Author Archives: Sagittarian Seeker

The Grand Tetons

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Posted by on in Hiking and Nature, Travel

I passed through gleaming, clean-as-a-whistle Jackson, stopping briefly at the Visitors Center, to inquire about WiFi, so that I could check for messages from a friend.  I was politely directed to the first Visitors Center in the Grand Teton region.

So, on I went, and learned later that I needed to hone both my intuition and my communications skills.  Nonetheless, the scenery en-route is both a tonic for the soul and a challenge- as if the mountains are saying ” Do you think you are a seasoned hiker?  Come play with us, big boy!”

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The Tetons are formidable, but are punctuated by the meandering Snake River.    SAM_5406      SAM_5408

Little old me continued on the path to insight and enlightenment, though the wind made my t-shirt balloon out a bit.

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Grand Teton, though, is not a long park, north to south.  I found myself in the behemoth that is Yellowstone National Park, in very short order.

My Yellowstone visit will be covered in three posts:  The bison herds to Shoshone Lake;

West Thumb and Yellowstone Lake; The Absaroka and Buffalo Bill State Park.

I left happy, but with a strange feeling that something was amiss.

The Bridger-Teton Express, Part 2: The Snake River Valley, from Alpine to Jackson

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Posted by on in Hiking and Nature, Travel

After leaving Afton, I pretty much stuck to the road- until I passed the tourist town of Alpine.   Then, I reached the Grand Canyon of the Snake River.  As with our Grand Canyon in AZ, Wyoming’s draws rafters by the busload.  No matter; although hordes of tourists are a concern for conservationists, long-term, the presence of lots of other people has never bothered me much.  I don’t go in for trinkets and mementos of a visit to a tourist mecca.  I would buy things for my son, or for a certain special friend, but neither of them are very big on junk, either.  So, I don’t stand in long lines much at all.

Jim Bridger, for whom the Bridger-Teton National Forest is partially named, along with the Teton Range of the Rocky Mountains, was a “mountain man” in these parts during the mid-19th Century.  Every school child in Wyoming and Montana is sure to learn a fair amount about Jim and his close ties to the indigenous people of the northern Rockies.

The Snake and Gros Ventre Ranges, and the river itself, captivated the hordes of rafters, and me.  The Gros Ventre show themselves on the south and east banks of the Snake River.

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As the river broke through the heavy forest growth, at the raft and kayak put-ins, I walked down for some views of the grandest river in the northwest Rockies, save the Missouri.

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A visitor from New Zealand called me over and pointed out some better views of the open flow.  He is a home builder, by profession, and does his own architecture and design.  The Renaissance Man lifestyle has not disappeared.  In my afternoon years, with my sun still bright, I am always glad to meet such people and explore their views, much as I explore landscapes and build new friendships.

As he left to rejoin his “mates”, I enjoyed the views to which he was referring.

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My mindset was healed somewhat by the magnificence.  I look back on the hour or so that was spent here, just taking in the ambiance of the river and its mountain backdrop.  The message is clear- “Gary, remember the song, ‘May It Be’, from The Lord of the Rings- ‘The promise is within you now’. “

There would be so much more- Promise, doubt, regrouping and fulfillment, as the quest continued.

Next:  Grand Teton National Park

The Bridger-Teton Express, Part 1: Cokeville to Afton

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Posted by on in Travel

Thursday, July 18, was a seminal day along my path of purification.  It’s never easy to cast out one’s own demons, so to speak. Yet, if I did not accomplish this, I would well be casting some very special relationships adrift.

I woke early enough in Cokeville’s Hideout Motel to grab some breakfast from my cooler and a cup of in-room coffee, before setting off  to check out some of the Bridger-Teton National Forest, en route to Afton, home of my friends, Derek and Sima Cockshut.  This route goes through a tiny sliver of Idaho, between two large swaths of Wyoming.  Here, we are back in the Rockies, in the far west of the Equality State.

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These scenes are near Salt River Pass, which keeps Afton a bit isolated from southwest Wyoming, in the severity of winter.

It wasn’t long, though, before I spotted the comfy Main Street of this mountain paradise, and smelled fresh chocolate, at my friends’ shop.

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The complex, on the west side of the main street in Afton, also features a Baha’i Faith Meeting Place, with a growing library, for independent study and reflection, a key tenet of our Faith

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My friends are busy throughout the day, producing the fine chocolate which has traveled as far afield as Afghanistan and Europe, during the shipping season, of October- May.  Calm, self-assured Derek, and effervescent, talkative Sima are a study in opposites, but they are opposites who have attracted for 45 years.  I am honoured to have known these fine folks, off and on, since 1985.  I also have an affinity for their several varieties of chocolate.

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Across the street from Star Valley Chocolates, there are a Baha’i-owned floral shop and several other laid-back establishments.  The Olympian, Rulon Gardner, and his family are Afton natives and have a signal presence here in the Star Valley.

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I spent about thirty minutes here, as the day was proceeding at a faster clip. and much remained.

Next:  The Bridger-Teton Express, Part 2- The Snake River Valley

Two Polished Stones

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Posted by on in Personal goals

On Wednesday night, I drove into the first Forest Service campground to which I came,after my friend in Del Norte said the rental cabin was being renovated, and was unavailable.  As it was a calm night, and free of moisture, I rolled out my ground tarp, bed pad, sleeping bag and pillow, and got ready for sleep.  I prefer that there is nothing between the stars and me, whenever possible.

Just before greeting the dream world, I placed my watch and camera on the picnic table. There was nothing else on the table, at that point. I would occasionally wake, regard the starry sky with awe, and contemplate all that I had seen and heard on this trip, both good and bad.  Generally, though, the sleep was restful.

In the morning, I awoke, took my change of clothes into the latrine, got dressed and shaved.  I went over to the picnic table and retrieved my watch and camera.  There, right next to them, were two polished silica rocks.  These did not remotely resemble anything that was on the ground.  I will probably never know, in this life, how they got there, or who left them.

It did get me to thinking.  Rocks get a silicone quality through fire, rough treatment by wind and water and more heat.  I thought of my wife, who suffered mightily, her last eight years, yet maintained a cheerful disposition until nearly the end of her days.  I also thought of friends, one in particular, who are undergoing extreme pain and stress, at the hands of people whom they trusted.  I then thought:  “Gary, are YOU being trustworthy?  Are you making situations better, or worse,by your own behaviour?”

The pain and suffering in this world are seldom about me.  I am almost a poster child for Bob Dylan’s “Positively Fourth Street”, or Keith Emerson’s “Lucky Man”, yet I do have more to me than a goofy, smiling face.  My friends’ hardships are my hardships, by choice, and I will not rest easily while any of them are in pain.

They in my social circle, though, tend to be fiercely independent and want to do it all themselves.  I know the feeling.  I didn’t want or expect much help, when caring for Penny.  Our son was there, doing things a teenager should never have to do.  Otherwise, it was my wife, polishing her stone, and me, moving forward, one step at a time, and not knowing what was ahead for me, once she was gone.

I have purchased a book, about a friend’s late child, and her struggle with cancer.  I will read this with close attention, because it defines the attitude we each must have in facing horrific pain, every bit as much as did my wife’s struggle with neurological disease, and those of countless other friends, and friends’ relatives, who have struggled with, and sometimes succumbed to, relentless disease.

To whom much is given, much is expected.  I am sorry to those whose needs I could meet, but haven’t always.  At the same time, know that every waking moment, you are in my heart, and need only say- “Hey, FRIEND, what about me?”  None of us need burnish our stones in isolation.

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( I will share this on Facebook, though it is somewhat personal, just because there are people on FB who need to be re-assured that they are deeply loved.)

July 17, 2013: Meeker to Cokeville

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Posted by on in Travel

I left the Rifle area and soon found myself in the delightful town of Meeker, which seems like a mix of counterculture and cowboy culture.  Here I was able to catch up with the news of the road, at a small coffee shop.

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The area between Meeker and Hamilton is prime ranch country.  There are a few reservoirs, here and there.

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Around noon, I came into Craig, northwest Colorado’s social and economic hub.  Craig is more workaday than its more famous neighbour, Steamboat Springs, but has its share of culture.  The regional museum is here.

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In Carelli’s, a local pizza parlour, student art is proudly put on display.

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The last major geological feature in northwest Colorado is collectively called  Fortification Rocks.  This is a memorial to both sides in the Moffat County Indian Wars.

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A short ways up the road, I was pleased to be greeted by two hawks.

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Colorado ran out of road, about 40 miles north of Craig, and I was fully in the Great Basin of Wyoming.  It was while driving through here that a funk took over, I lost my grip on my emotions, I misstated my feelings towards one of the most beautiful women I have ever known, and I was into the first spiritual lesson of my trip, which has already been discussed ad nauseam, elsewhere.  This is not Wyoming’s fault, or hers.

Baggs, the first town I entered in Wyoming, has a small museum, dedicated to the range land of the upper Great Basin.

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After blazing through the cloudy, bleakness of  the Red Desert, I reached Rock Springs, walked around the historic section of the old rail town and learned the consequences of my emotional outburst earlier in the day.

The scenes of Rock Springs are typical of rail hubs in the Mountain West.  It is also a major player in both the coal  and shale oil industries.

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I could have easily stayed the night in Rock Springs, but the agenda for the following day included both Grand Teton and Yellowstone National Parks, and I needed to move on.

Passing Fossil Butte National Monument, I stopped to get a couple of views.

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The night’s stop was in Cokeville, with supper at Blondie’s Diner, just before closing time.  My tired countenance made me sport for a rather raucous individual, who seemed to be the town bully.  I ignored his leers and jibes, and he left, with the teen boy who was his only audience, after about fifteen minutes.  The meal itself was good enough.

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Hideout Motel was needed that night, and was more than up to the task.

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It occurred to me that my friend is far more of a woman, than I am a man.  Yet there was a tomorrow and I would press on.  This is a spiritual journey, and as in Star Wars, the only way is through.

Next:  The Bridger-Teton, Cokeville to Afton.

Aloneness and Isolation

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Posted by on in Personal goals, Social

It’s been a lot of sojourning, both physical and spiritual, these past two weeks.  I have been to only good places, in terms of physical travel.  Nowhere have I been let down, much, by the people around me, or the people I have seen.

Spiritually, I have been blessed with feeling connected to the ancients and the departed souls, in places like the Grand Tetons, Medicine Wheel, Devils Tower, Harney Peak, the Baha’i House of Worship in Wilmette, IL,  Cahokia Mounds, and today, atop El Dorado Canyon.

Emotions have always been my Achilles heal.  As I said in a previous post, I am an acquired taste.  Too intense by half, I have seen plenty of struggle, these many years.  I’ve fallen in lust several times, from teenage crushes and indiscriminate kissing, in my teens and twenties, to fanciful attachments to women, over the past 18 months, which have not gone anywhere.  In fairness, neither have the fanciful attachments that random women have had on me.  It has to be a two-way street, and we all get hurt by one person or another, every so often.

I’ve had two  women in my life whom I love (present tense intentional) strongly and deeply.  One became my wife, my soul mate,and remained by my side until her passing, two years ago.  As I write this, she is nearby, I feel.

The other is one I regard as my best friend, but is one who has a strong, independent life of her own, living far from me.  She impacts my life by her day to day acceptance of challenges, which have been considerable for her, of late.  She has awesome goals for the immediate future, and I support her 100 %.   She is my best friend because she inspires me.

I live alone, for the time being, by choice, because I have needed the past two years to regroup and recuperate from the severe blow of March, 2011.  I have refused to stay isolated, however, and therein lies my survival and recovery.  Full involvement with life in my adopted community of Prescott has helped me accelerate that process.

I have traveled extensively in the United States, over the past 18 months, not as a flight mechanism, but as a means of discovery, both of who I am and what makes our nation tick.  The saying goes, “Wherever you go, there you are”, so running away is a chimera.

The human spirit is, like Abraham Lincoln described his office of the Presidency, of enormous power.  We are made with all the virtues of the higher power.  I have seen people, who have let themselves be consumed by depression, guilt and stress- none of which are intended for us by the Creator, become inspired, recover from their funk at an astonishing pace, and soar in achievement and discovery.  We limit ourselves only by our attachments.

I am not a man of great achievement.  I have helped several hundred, maybe a few thousand, people in my life, both professionally and personally, to get over their hang-ups and sense of limitations, their scarcity mentality.  I was a good caretaker to my wife, in her last years.  With her, I raised a fine, industrious young man.  I cannot walk with a high level of pride, though, because occasionally, people have been hurt by me.  I have, whenever possible, “manned-up” and made it right for them again, but the recovery rate is not 100%.

I   have, over the past two weeks, visited with a variety of people.  I am struck by those who insist they must be isolated because “no one wants me”.  The only answer to curbing isolation is to get out there and live.  God did not put us on this earth to be estranged from our fellows.  He put us here to do great things, as a group, and individually.

I can continue to be of service, whether in Prescott for the time being or elsewhere, possibly as early as next year.  My son is an asset to the United States Navy, now and for at least the next two years.  My brothers are important to the companies for whom they work.  My best friend is in the process of changing careers and resuming activity in a field of endeavor in which she has been passionate in the past.  Each of you, my reader-friends, has a passion, and a skill set, that are needed by somebody. The late Joseph Campbell said “Follow your bliss”.  This was not a pitch to idleness and sloth.  Lao-tse wrote, thousands of years ago, “Do what you love, and you will never work another day in your life”.

Aloneness, with a modicum of privacy, lets us make key personal decisions in a place of  serenity, away from the  welter of public opinion, whether electronic or physical.  Isolation, on the other hand, stunts our growth as human beings.  No one, save the most heinous of felons, is so wretched that he or she must hide from all humanity in perpetuity.  We belong largely together, balancing the dignity of privacy with the need to sound people out, on matters large and small.

These are things that have come into my mind and heart, while figuring out what my place is in the scheme of things and in the life spaces of those closest to my heart.  I only look forward to what lies ahead.  Like my friend, I will embrace life with the passion it deserves.  See you all out there, following your bliss.

( I am not putting this on Facebook.  I would rather have people come here, from now on, for my more personal posts.)

 

July 17, 2013: Rifle Falls and Caves

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Posted by on in Hiking and Nature

The northwest of Colorado is somewhat drier than the Rocky Mountain core.  Even so, the rivers run at a credible clip, and the occasional waterfalls are well worth an hour or two.  Rifle Falls has three such waterfalls and a series of limestone caves occupies the area underneath the falls.  I spent ninety minutes on the morning of July 17, casually walking the trail to the top of Rifle Falls and exploring the caves along the bottom of the trail.

I begin with scenes of the plateau leading into the Rifle Gap.

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The falls and caves lie just east of Rifle Gap State Park.

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Here are more scenes of the caves, which are quite delicate, and would not make safe hiding places- though that would be tempting, in a pinch.

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I climbed up to the top of the falls, along Coyote Trail, and learned that a private entrepreneur had built a hydropower plant, of sorts, and a tourist attraction, in the 1890’s.

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Above is a remnant of the hydropower facility.

Rifle Falls set the tone for a rather happy day, that Wednesday.

Next:  The Road to Cokeville

July 16, 2013: Fairburn to Rifle

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Posted by on in Travel

The road from Nederland to Central City/Blackhawk leads up and over peaks that have some snow pack all year long.

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They are the gateway to what is billed as “the richest square mile on Earth:  Central City/Blackhawk.  These towns are gambling meccas, so being an unventuresome sort, in that regard, I spent only about twenty minutes looking over the area’s historical treasures.  Mountain City is a collection of preserved late 19th Century mining town structures.

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Here is a view of Black Hawk’s main north-south street.

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Although this area is billed as a tourist site, I did not get good vibes from the few locals I encountered, and so moved on to Glenwood Springs.  My friend works for a school system in the Glenwood area.  He introduced me to Yampah Vapor Caves, which gave me twenty minutes of deep breathing and cleansing.  We then went over to  his home in Rifle, some twenty miles west north west of Glenwood Springs.

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Next:  July 17, 2013, Rifle Falls

July 16, 2013- Boulder Canyon

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Posted by on in Travel

Now it’s time to focus on all I have seen, since I left the blessed Front Range two weeks ago.  I headed for Glenwood Springs, where my friend Mitchell Silas works during the week.  After driving through Boulder Canyon, from Longmont, where I had spent the night after visiting my uncle and a friend, I stopped for lunch at Nederland, enjoying the fine buffet at Kathmandu Restaurant.  Here are some scenes of Boulder Canyon, below the Falls.

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Atop the canyon lies Nederland, a delightful town with several shops and restaurants, and Barker Meadow Reservoir.

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Once well-fed at Kathmandu, with plentiful North Indian and Nepalese cuisine, I headed towards Central City, Black Hawk and Glenwood Springs.

Deluge in A Paper Cup

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Posted by on in Personal goals, Social

(This is the third of nine reflections on a spiritual journey I have been taking, and some of the  human struggles that have been concurrent to the journey.)

Neil Finn wrote this phrase, relative to a long-forgotten personal struggle of his own.  I tend to do this all the time, working hard to solve my friends’ problems, while using inadequate resources. Today, I tried to get up to Colorado Springs, from western Oklahoma, in time for a mid-afternoon discourse with another Word Press friend. Leaving Enid at 8 AM, and having a sit-down breakfast in Laverne, OK, at 10, probably didn’t hurt my efforts too much, but somehow I ended up unequal to the task, and have to try and reschedule, before leaving the Front Range on Wednesday morning.

The key here seems to be getting over the adage, “Too many cooks spoil the broth.”  I have had several different viewpoints expressed to me, regarding my own foibles that have surfaced on this trip and other events associated with my posts.  Some of the viewpoints address people’s personal issues, and I have had to tell more than one individual to respect the privacy of others.  Nonetheless, for the most part, every living soul has a role to play in the unfoldment of human civilization.  Some destroy aspects of the community, which were probably untenable anyway.  Others build up new and stronger communal features.

I have good friends who set me straight on my own shortcomings, and I reserve the right to point things out to others, albeit in as nice a way as possible.  So, I do think the above-mentioned adage is often a false assumption.

There are, however, times when a person who has not been allowed to do things on his/her own, needs to be given the chance to try- perhaps to fail- at handling a personal issue, without the gang being all here.  The key is dignity, always self-worth.  I failed today, but I learned valuable lessons.  Other friends have tried, mightily, to resolve personal issues, and sometimes have not been successful.  To me, the fact that they each gave their struggles 100% of what is in them is what is most important.

The Higher Power will protect and rejuvenate the person who is in an honest struggle.  I am so proud of each and every one of my friends and family, who struggle on their own.  My son, my youngest living brother, my best friend among the living, and several of my better friends in Arizona, Illinois, Oklahoma, California and elsewhere have fought personal battles both on their own and in concert with others, and are doing their level best.  That’s all that matters, really.  God either gives us another chance to right our mistakes or brings people into our lives who can better help rectify things.

So, making the effort, even with inadequate resources, releases energy that will both bring the nettlesome problem into wider perspective and attach the issue to other, related matters, thus “killing several flies with one swat”, so to speak.  We owe it to one another to discern the difference between a matter which is best left to an individual to resolve and a highly intractable matter, requiring several points of view for resolution.