Occupation of Independence

There are days when the goodies of life fall to you, like ripe fruit from trees. Yesterday was one of those days. Although the goodies were certainly noticed, something was holding me back from appreciating them to the fullest. But first, let's dwell on these goodies. Autumn brings cooler nights and good sleeping weather. There is nothing like twisting and turning in bed for a couple summer months to revive your appreciation of "Hypnos" or "Morpheus", the classical gods of sleep and dreams. On a mountain bike ride I enjoyed dirt on the trail, instead of the usual rubble. Enough rides in the Southwest or in Colorado will make it easy for a rider to see dirt as one of the best and  most under-rated things in nature. Mid-day is still too warm and sunny. My dog had no difficulty worshiping "Santa Sombra" after the ride. I like how the pavilion throws a shadow with a pointed church steeple on the right side of the photo. The immediate foreground of the rid

'Be careful what you wish for...' is a wonderful old saying. On the last post I was yearning for the end of summer. And I got what I deserved...good and hard! To make this even better, I am camped just a few feet from Lewis & Clark's old trail over the continental divide; then down they went to the Salmon River, and out to the Pacific Ocean. Even though they would consider a modern adventurer to be little better than an earthworm, I am enjoying the idea of going below freezing tonight, on Labor Day. It is the kind of camping experience that ennobles and purifies the soul.

Challis, ID. I drove across Idaho yesterday and saw liquid water flowing through the dry washes (arroyos) the entire way. What is an ex-Southwesterner to think! How can such a situation be "natural." I saw the Sawtooth Mountains for the first time. They were impressive but I know enough about the tourism industry to drive through as quickly as possible. To the north and east, while still following the mighty Salmon River, the land became harshly lunar (that is, like the Southwest.) But I was still over 5000 feet high, and it wasn't that hot. Does this area sit in a rain shadow of the Sawtooth Mountains? For the first time in a long time, I experienced "vibes" in a town. I am rendezvousing with a coastal critter who uses that term. Perhaps I need to consult the Urban Dictionary. But I have never gone into a Feed & Tack, True Value hardware, or grocery store and asked to buy 3 pounds of "vibes." I don't even know what aisle they are in.   Do you

My dog and I haven't done a hike in a long time, which is a real shame, considering all the advantages it has. What prompted me to take action this morning was the temperature: it was the first day of autumn chill. Hiking has always been more enjoyable to me in chilly weather. And it worked again. We started in the cool shade and suddenly emerged into warm sun. What a delicious contrast that is!  Soon we came out of the ponderosas and onto a grassy ridgeline, where we had a view of the entire valley around Council, ID.  Although I could have mountain biked this trail, it was actually more fun to walk it.  Getting too chilly for comfort is what I need to get out of the Drudgery Mode that seems to go along with hiking. Nobody forces you to be dreary -- but it seems to be an integral part of the image of hiking. When somebody says the word "hiking" I first think of a donkey, with its back bent into a concave U by a heavy load, plodding along a dusty trail in the hot sun, whi

Council, ID.  Now reading "Sharpe's Eagle," by Bernard Cornwell. Not so far away from my trailer, two black cows started up with some angry bellowing. Except they weren't vacas ; they were toros. Actually it has been many years since I have encountered real bulls, and not just the nambie-pambie specimens that you see nowadays.  My dog will sometimes chase cows when she is off-leash, but she made no move toward the bulls. The bulls were on opposite sides of a barbed wire fence. One would push his big head across the fence and push at the other bull. They would paw angrily at the ground and kick dirt on each other.  One of the bulls must have been young: he was more demonstrative, and would flop around in the dust.  The bellowing was quite noticeable. A little scary. I actually closed my door, although the bull on my side of the barbed wire fence had little interest in me. That little bit of caution reminded me of something: ahh yes, I was just an 8 year old boy, ridin