The tribute to Nevada miners on the Capitol Quad is one of the very cool statues there.
While I’m staying in Carson City, I walk the loop around the Nevada Capitol nearly every day. Part of the reason is to give both the Girl and me some exercise. Part of the reason is to collect some items for Pokémon Go.
When we walk through the quadrangle, I’m impressed by the serenity there. Even during the big initial rush of Pokémon Go players, the place has a sense of reverence. There are a number of statues there that I think would be excellent subjects for some evening photography and lightpainting. I might just have to do some of that.
This morning we passed by the Capitol Quad again on our morning walk. The morning was gorgeous, cool, calm, peaceful, and quiet. The construction on Carson Street continues, but the noise seemed abated this morning.
The Girl was engaged and calm.
We paused for a few minutes at the Nevada Miner Memorial, reflecting on the importance of mining to this state. I made a few captures in the morning mixed light. And then we moved on.
Walking along Carson River is such a blessing early in the morning. I’m blessed to see such sights and appreciate the time with the Girl.
When we’re walking early by the Carson River, I’m sometimes startled by the light on the Prison Hill ridge. On this morning, the puffy white clouds provided a counterpoint to the warm sunlight on the mountains. It was enough to capture my eyes and my heart.
I’m truly thankful for such sights as these. I’ll never tire of seeing the sunrise on the mountains.
The Girl and I were out early one morning for walkies. We were greeted by a beautiful sunrise over the Carson River.
The Girl and I are out and about almost every morning. At this time of the year, the best time to walk is very early. When we get out at dawn, the temperature is in the mid- to upper-50s. It’s chilly to start the walk in shorts and a t-shirt, but I do. Of course, the Girl is practically naked (Naked Girl!!!), but she’s always on the move and doesn’t seem to mind her nakedness.
I’m blessed by the cool morning air, the exercise, and the opportunity to see the sunrise. On those mornings when there are a few clouds, the sight can be breathtaking. The morning I made this capture is one such morning. I was listening to my morning meditation while walking along with the Girl. My steps provided a cadence for focus. My eyes were up and looking around at God’s creation, thankful for witnessing the waking of the world.
Some days a melancholy washes over me. Often it’s because something makes me think of Wife, the life we shared, life before she died.
I have a bit of music in my collection. There are a lot of favorite songs in that collection, many of them from years ago. Back then I couldn’t afford to buy music and would wish that I had a copy of the recording. Over the last decade or two, there was more money to buy music and I got over the reluctance to spend on something frivolous but meaningful.
The recording by Bruce Hornsby and the Range, Mandolin Rain, causes me to respond. For some reason, this song came up in my playlist today. I was taken back 20, 30 years ago and remembered hearing this song the first time. It caused an emotional response in me then and still does.
Listen to the mandolin rain
Listen to the music on the lake
Listen to my heart break every time she runs away
Listen to the banjo wind
A sad song drifting low
Listen to the tears roll
Down my face as she turns to go
She didn’t have a choice about leaving. She had to go. And there are times when the tears still flow.
Last Saturday the Girl and I rose quite early to get out and hike (and geocache) before the heat rose. The story is already told, but a further rumination rose a few minutes ago. I suppose when the Muse calls me, I better answer.
I was scrolling through recent images collected and stored on my computer and came across this capture. It was made after our climb-out and while we were hiking along the ridge of the Prison Hill Range. This is a view of the Girl I see often when we’re out in the sageland. She runs back and forth, doing her favorite thing — hunting. She’s a high-drive dog and will chase rabbits, squirrels, and lizards. I know her well and have learned to manage her drive for the most part. I am still sometimes surprised, but far less often than I was a few years ago.
This is something that is just part of her. I accept that and watch for those times when it might be a problem. I’m OK with that as well.
So we hike and hunt. It fills a need that she has and a need that I have. We both gain a lot from our time on the trail. In fact, there’s no other place I’d rather be (at this time) than out on the trail with my Girl. I have to watch the heat because she overheats easily. But if the weather is moderate, then we can go for hours.
Our normal morning walk is now five miles. If I push it and keep my pace at about 18 minutes/mile, I keep my metabolic rate up and it pushes her as well. We’re both tired (but maybe not done) when we get back to the rig.
On Saturday, we did a bit more than five miles with terrain. The climb-out challenged my legs and glutes and it was good. The descent challenged my quads and put some pressure on the patellar tendon, which was also good. We were both tired when we got back to the rig, went to breakfast, and returned to our room. That was good. Saturday was a really good day!
This morning we were out early again. It was cold down by the Carson River in Riverview Park. It was cold enough that my legs and hands were cold until the sun rose sufficiently to shine on me. With the cool air, I pushed pretty hard. The Girl had to run a few times to catch up. She’d be distracted by a scent, pause to sniff, and then notice I was 50 yards down the trail, calling and whistling to her to catch up.
And then catch up she would, blasting by me to pick up the next trail or chase a rabbit. We hiked out to the Morgan Mill Road river access. We took a five-minute break there so I could eat a snack and pee. She continued snuffling in the willow brush, then came over to beg some of my snack (no chocolate for her!). I offered a bite of apple, but she declined (with a snort).
After the short break, I donned my pack again and off we went, me jogging part of the way. I carried my walking stick at port-of-arms to practice. No, the stick isn’t a six-pound rifle, but it will do for practice.
We hit the rig before 0800 with just over five miles on the clock. It was time to get back to the room, feed her, and get a shower so I could get to my dentist for a procedure.
She was curled up in the back of the rig when I came out from the dentist’s office. I left with much to think about. The tooth I thought would be crowned will be extracted tomorrow. It’s cracked and cannot be salvaged. The price of the work just went up. I needed to think on this a bit more, consider the options, and make a decision about how to proceed.
We stopped at Wally-World to fill my prescription. I pondered on my decision while we wandered through the store waiting for my prescription to be filled. I bought a strawberry shake (or what passes for a shake) and a cup of coffee from McDs in the Walmart and sat down to enjoy the coffee. I bought a deck of regular playing cards to keep in my kit. I think that sometimes just sitting playing solitaire will be good for me. I like real cards.
After retrieving my meds, we headed for the room. It was good to feel the sun on my body and good to have the Girl curled up in the adjacent seatpan. I fiddled with her ears and stroked her side as we drove.
Yeah, I’d rather be out in the sagelands with my Girl than nearly anywhere else these days. Wife is gone, the kids are grown and independent, I work for myself. The capture of us on the trail together is idyllic, at least to me. Yeah, I challenge my body when we do those hikes. Yeah, I get tired, hot, sweaty. Yeah, I feel the mental game to push the body when it rebels. It’s a different form of training, not as intense as strength training but just as big of a mental game. Yeah, I’m going to get the dental work done (yet another mental game), then recover from it, both physically and mentally.
Then what? I’m not sure right now. I think there is work for me to do. I need to do some of it and replenish my savings account. I’m good with that… and with spending as much time as I can on the trail… with the Girl.
Yesterday morning, the Girl and I rose very early to get out for morning walkies before the summer heat. It’s been warming quite early the last few days and the heat is really hard on the Girl. So, I set an alarm, rolled out, roller her out, and off we went.
I could tell the sunrise was going to be gorgeous. As we started our walk, we passed the wetland area in Riverview Park on the Carson River. The blackbirds were jabbering quite a lot. I was so struck with the sight and sound, that I paused to make a short video of the event.
I was quite thankful for the show and expressed those thanks to God, the giver of good gifts.
After finding our first geocache Sunday morning, we continued hiking up the trail along Rifle Creek. This tributary had to be crossed. Someone conveniently placed stepping stones across the water for those of us who don’t like wet feet.
Yesterday’s outing to Rifle Creek and the Three Forks trail was very good for me. I decided to go find a geocache located a quarter-mile from the trailhead, loaded that location (and a few others) into my GPSr, and we headed out. The drive out was healing, moving at a modest velocity so the windows could be down and we could take in the glorious morning air.
We drove up to the trailhead, past many rock climbers. There were so many rock climbers out there that there was no parking. I would have stopped to make some images of them working (and find a geocache) had I found a place to park.
We got out of the rig and the Girl started sniffing about, as usual. I met another old guy who was perched on top of his RV. We chatted a few minutes and I gather that he works on telecommunications. My gut feeling is that he’s a network engineer of some kind, but I never got clarity on that.
Saying goodbye, the Girl and I headed upstream. The water in Rifle Creek burbles along its path here. The water sound was musical and refreshing. The sound of the wind in the fir and spruce trees sussurated comfortingly. I listened for critters as we walked. The Girl stayed fairly close after so many days on lead.
I found the geocache without too much trouble, pawed through the contents in case there was a travel bug or other trackable (no joy), signed the log, and buttoned up the container. Instead of turning around, we continued our path upstream. It was simply too beautiful to return to the motel room without more time in the field.
So we hiked another half-hour, me mistakenly thinking I needed to be out of the park by noon. (I had a day pass from the State Park that expired at noon. We were on Forest Service land; not State.) On the back, I picked a nice shady spot to rest and did my meditation regimen. The Girl stayed pretty close, there being many things to sniff. Being outdoors for a meditation was very nice and is something I should do more often.
We turned around and headed back downstream toward the rig. The sky had a few puffy clouds and we had intermittent periods of sun and shade. It was warm, but not hot. It was nearly a perfect day.
I paused at the stepping stones on the way back. The life metaphor of the stones in the clear, talkative water struck me as I stood there, listening to the water, listening to the Girl being a dog, and listening to the winds speak in the evergreens.
I appreciate those stones, literally and metaphorically, even if I sometimes slip and get my feet wet anyway. (I did.) Although we humans like to think we know where we are going in this thread of time called life, we don’t really know. Life changes, sometimes drastically over a short period of time. The plans we make often do not work out, sometimes because the plans were faulty (unforeseens) and sometimes because we change and the plans are no longer appropriate. It doesn’t really matter, I think.
Don’t get me wrong; plans are important. It’s good to have goals and measure progress toward those goals. However, life is more than plans and goals. It’s a journey I’m on and a part of that journey is to touch the lives of those people I encounter as well as have my own life touched by others I encounter along the way. There is learning and ministry that is part of this process. That’s important.
So, with that reflection, I’m going to ready myself for some travel today. The Girl and I are going to make an easy day of it, geocaching and playing outdoors along the way to Green River, Utah. We’ll spend a night there, or maybe two if there are interesting things to see there. Then we’ll move on towards western Nevada.
This time I’m going to stop at the Great Basin National Park. I’ve meant to stop there a number of times and never have. This time I’m going to.
On our way out of town, the Girl and I stopped to visit the place where we dispersed Wife’s ashes. Her family keeps a cross and flowers posted here to remember her. It’s a beautiful field and I love to stop here and remember her at her best, not at the end.
I love to visit this place, where we dispersed Wife’s ashes. It is across the county road from my old place, where I moved when I was 15-years old, finished high school, helped dad with the farm, and where Wife, I, and our two older children lived while I was working on my master’s degree.
I still believe this is a happy place for Wife’s ashes. It is a place that is meaningful to her, her family, and to me. That makes it right, at least to my mind.
The second day of my trip to Bolivia I discovered Mate de Coca, a light tea made from coca leaves. Yes, it has coca alkaloids in it. Yes, it is contraband in the States. Yes, it is a very good tea.
After Easter Almuerza, it was time to get to work. We had our first big set of presentations Monday morning and needed to edit our slides and practice our talks. Papá set us up in one of the work rooms at Los Tajibos and we got to work. After some futzing about with the equipment, we were able to use the flat panel display as a monitor and got after it.
While waiting for my turn, I decided to have a cup of tea. (The coffee is generally instant coffee and not up to my standards.) I found this bag of green tea, made from the leaves of the coca plant. So, I made a cup of Mate de Coca.
It is a very nice light tea. It has a slightly sweet flavor, even without sweetener. I did a little research on Wikipedia and learned that Mate de Coca contains coca alkaloids with a concentration of about 4 mg per cup of tea. A line of cocaine has an alkaloid concentration between 20–30 mg. My expectation is that ingestion by swallowing is very different than inhalation (or injection) and the impact of the drug is much changed in the tea form. However, on my return from Bolivia I would have tested positive for cocaine use because I drank the tea at every opportunity.
Its use is being discouraged. It is contraband in the States. I really don’t see why, unless it were to be used to refine cocaine from the leaves. The tea is a mild stimulant and I don’t think one could easily drink enough of it to get high.
This is another example of our world gone wrong where a naturally occurring substance in its organic form is banned because it is abused in its refined form. Meh…
The tea is quite good. When I get back to Bolivia, it will be one of my staple drinks. I like coffee in the morning and tea in the afternoon. I see no reason to change that habit and green teas are a nice change from black teas.
Many years ago, I read a book — A Wizard of Earthsea, by Ursula K. LeGuin. It was partly for fun, for I enjoyed the best works of fantasy and science fiction, and partly a class assignment. For my university literature elective I sat the Science Fiction and Fantasy as Literature class under Eugene Warren. Although the class was for credit, it was for fun that I sat it. In the process, Mr. Warren taught me a few things about literature.
I met Eugene Warren and his wife, Rose, sometime in the early 1970s. I think they were involved with the Intervarsity Fellowship group on the University of Missouri — Rolla (now Missouri University of Science and Technology) campus. But, I cannot recall.
What I do recall is that they were different than anyone else in my experience. On looking back, I think they might have been part of the Hippie Movement from the 1960s. That is what I think, but I am not sure. That they were very different than me was clear. But, they believed God and trusted Jesus and that was all I needed to know.
My interaction with them was episodic, but always pleasant. When I learned that Warren would teach the literature class, I was intrigued. I am so glad that I sat that class. I was introduced to LeGuin and other great authors and still appreciate it.
So, it was a little surprising to me that I noticed an old copy of A Wizard of Earthsea on Daughter’s bookshelf. I had been thinking about the book because Older Son and I watched a Hayao Miyazaki rendition of Tales of Earthsea while I was in Denver a few weeks ago. I pulled the old paperback from the shelf and opened it.
My name was lettered inside the front cover. I had forgotten that these were my books, given to Daughter during one of my recent purges of things. I set the book aside to read it.
Yesterday afternoon I spent some time with Older Grandson. I asked if he had read the book.
“No,” he responded.
“You should.”
“What’s it about?”
“It is the tale of a young wizard learning to be a man. It is a good story and you will like it.”
I began rereading the book, now after nearly 40 years, last night. I woke early this morning, agitated and restless from my dreams and picked it up again. I didn’t want to turn on a light, so I bought a copy for my Kindle. I listened to music and read for a bit.
Then I set it aside and rolled over to return to sleep for a few hours. I remembered Warren and the class I sat so long ago. I decided that the story was worth telling — and the book well worth rereading.
