A couple of days before, we drove down a tough ‘ol road out on a piece of butte, a peninsula, looking for a place to camp. With the focus on that and the usual insulation of traveling by car, we could tell that we were missing something beautiful and fascinating. One must get out and feel, touch, be touched, take it slower, and take the time to appreciate and discover the Earth’s treasures. Last night, we decided to do that, just that, get out there on foot and hike that peninsula.
We took four and a half hours strolling out and then one and a half to march back uphill for some exercise. That made for a very good day. Whatever and whoever goes down must come back up. Take it all in, slowly and thorough and then march back.
We’ve decided to just hang out, taking it easy today. We can get things in order, have a nice meal. It has been a lot of travel for several days. We’ve found a good place to just enjoy for a time. When it seems right, we have walks to look forward to, long and short.
We’re new in the neighborhood. A neighbor stops by, a curious ground squirrel visits in the fresh morning sunshine that beams in our camp’s clearing. He hasn’t gotten around to the huge red object beyond him with its the strange smell of rubber. He heads first to the strange dome shaped contraption caging us humans. This might be a first for the tiny young critter. It shows no fear, coming right up to the net tent’s side wall, close to my face.
I lie sideways, awake, newly opened eyes adjusting to the light. I’m a bit surprised by the local greeter. The eyes placed on each side of its head, tell the direction of its vision. It stands up on hind legs, as we exchange staring looks with each other. It seems that we are each wondering, “How far will the other go?” I wonder how close this encounter will be, once my resting body moves.
The diminutive student of the world retreats to a nearby log. I later find debris there. It shows that it has spent quite a bit of time there, chewing on pine-cones.
As the morning passes, I sit in my chair, read and put some time into looking out to the far distance and the foreground, listening, smelling, taking note of my circumstances and my relationship to it all.
A grosse slowly strolls through camp, not ten feet from my feet! I’m acknowledged, as it lumbers. This is a bird the size of a very large pigeon, a small chicken, enough for dinner! Yet, it acts like it has no concept of human behavior. I’m a stranger, just another animal, not a predator, as I sit and observe. I’m being treated to a sight not ruined by the treachery of man. I’m a part of a gift delightfully received. I’m free to experience the uninterrupted observations, a close up of nature, the feathered arrangements, the critters movement and actually my sense of comradery and trust between species.
After breakfast, we’re heading up the trail past the barriers into forest behind the ridge that we’re camped on. We’re just planning to see what we find and to move freely.
We take nothing, expecting to see no one. DF has a small towel to comfort her shoulder strap, maybe to sit down on at some point. We desert rats always have some water, not knowing how far our adventure may continue. Stripped down, there is an additional sense of freedom and sensuality.
NOTE: I have divided this story into three parts. It may feel a bit long, maybe not. I’m still in the middle of computer issues and change over. I was able to get this done without blowing up the old computer. Looks like I’m changing over to Mac soon and hopefully, I’ll learn that quickly. So, I apologize for any delays.
We’ve just left Kodachrome State Park in southern Utah. We wander down a two lane highway through little Mormon towns and settlements. This is beautiful country where green pastures and creeks pass through colorful hills, buttes and mountains.
Each farm has an old homestead house. These are the remnants of standardized homes provided for pioneers by the church community, when they would settle an area. These early shelters are still there for memory and identity.
This valley has the meandering Pariah River running through it. It is currently only a small creek maybe six or eight feet across. We’re heading to the mountains instead of more slot canyons. It is too hot for DF and maybe me, the diehard. A temperature of 83F was nice, but well into the 90F’s with little or no shade is uncomfortable. Perhaps another time, we did get a late start this year. There is another concern, fire. We smell the smoke which is emanating from the west in a towering cloud. There is a fire out west and we’ll head north-ish for cleaner air.
Off of a bend in the main highway that connects the local towns, we find the dirt road that leads up a canyon to higher elevations. Supposedly there are pine trees and cooler temperatures. I’m tired. There is a creek running along this route, which is encouraging. I find a small rough road, a two track jeep trail that is running through tall brush and trees to something, perhaps campsites.
Eventually, it leads to the base of a “North Creek Reservoir’s” dam.
Driving along the bottom of the dam it stops at a fine camping area. We are delighted by the good fortune. We park under the tree’s shade. Through a thicket, there is a creek. The only sound that we hear is its calming trickling waters.
After a sigh and a deep relaxing breath, we get out and walk around. Down a trail at the end of this kind of a road, there is running water out of a concrete shoot from the reservoir. The creek is the excess water from the small lake.
There is a second small dam here and this presents us with a small swimming hole. This coupled with the shallow mountain creek, may cause us to stay a couple of days. We take note of the colorful river rocks under the clear mountain water.
The trail coming in was rough, winding and tight. It would discourage most drivers. We would hear a slow lumbering visitor with plenty of notice. This spot is looking very good.
The Free Range Naturist 