Occupation of Independence

  Recall that my Noble Quest for this summer was to learn to actually enjoy summer. It was bad luck that this summer turned out hot and smoky. Still, I did make quite a bit of progress, if not in actually liking summer, then at least in not hating it. It wasn't so much a matter of coming up with brilliant ideas as it was of developing improved habits. And now the calendar/seasons are going through "regime change." Thermal collapse. It was 90 F around here yesterday, and brutally sunny, but I just looked at the sky and said, "Is that the best you can do?"  It was good luck that I ran into my first fresh produce of the summer, yesterday, on the last day of real summer. Wyoming wasn't such a great place to buy fresh produce. Oh they do raise food in Wyoming -- beef. Every year I appreciate locally grown food more and more. Walking around the growers, you are lit up by a reflected glow from them. And why shouldn't they be proud and pleased with their work:

This part of Idaho was certainly making me regret not getting a cargo trailer with interior wheel wells. The gravel road through the canyon was about 1.5 lanes wide, and there were few wide-spots or turn-arounds. So how do you play a messy situation like this? I wanted to go along with it to a certain extent without getting reckless. But remember, you don't quite know you have pushed your luck too far until it is too late. So I started playing "leapfrog" with the canyon: stopping at the wide spots, and walking until I found the next wide spot. Doing all these round trips soon adds up to a lot of walking. But my dog, Coffee Girl, thought this was quite fun. It is funny how your confidence grows as you punch your way through a canyon. I found a small field where I could camp for the night. It was perfectly solitary and quiet. The lack of an internet signal probably helped as a mood-enhancer. A raptor of some kind flew along the wall of the V-shaped canyon. The canyon held

 I heard somebody whimpering while sitting inside my van while parked in a town on the old Oregon/California Trail. Then I heard it again. It seemed to be coming from a large pickup truck parked next to me. Inside, an eight-week-old puppy jumped around on the front seats. He saw me immediately and held my gaze, as if he needed something. He looked to be a cross between a blue heeler and an Australian shepherd. His pickup truck was labelled Something-Or-Other Cattle Ranch, somewhere in Idaho. Why did this affect me so much? It was more than cuteness -- many young animals are cute. Hell, even baby javelinas are a little bit cute. Perhaps I have run across a biography once or twice when the story starts off "in the crib" and contrasts the helplessness of the baby with the man's reputation and accomplishments or even crimes in mature life. Sheer contrast of that type can leave an impression that lasts. In a couple years this puppy will be a serious professional ranch dawg, ex

Humans do seem to have stubborn predispositions. Children would rather eat dessert before their vegetables. Adolescents have difficulty thinking that something is more important about a potential sweetheart than their physical appearance. And outdoorsmen have their stubborn inclinations. A beginner wants loop routes instead of out-and-backs. Sheer necessity made me adapt to an out-and-back mindset. After all, most spur roads deadend halfway up a mountain, while the loop routes are full of motor-crazed yahoos. I am still surprised (and happy) that I was able to make that transition. But one predisposition remained: beginning a trip by pedaling uphill, getting the required dosage, enjoying the view at the top, and then coasting back down. This pattern worked so well because the sweaty ascents were in the cool of the morning, and the descents were in warmer air. And there is something pleasing about looking forward to 'eating your dessert' after you have finished the hard work fir