Enchantment

We woke well before dawn so that we had time to ease our way through an expresso and slip into our day packs and headlamps, wanting to get onto the trail down to San Francisco Hot Springs at the first glimmer of light in order to ensure that we had the springs to ourselves for a while. 

We had arrived the afternoon before and walked a bit of the 1 1/2 mile route to get an idea of the terrain,  being reasonably certain that we could walk it safely as the sun rose. There were only 2 other rigs anywhere near the trailhead,  and both belonged to mountain bikers,  so we were already feeling comfortable in our surroundings. 

Coming to the final descent,  we were happily presented with the view of canyon cliffs, tall cottonwoods and sycamores,  and a clear flowing river with steam rising above sandy beaches. Heaven awaited down below. We found a low, swift ford to cross over to the pools, stripped down, and oozed into the clear, non-sulphurous pool, laughing at our.good fortune. 

We had the pool to ourselves for at least an hour before a young couple from Durango arrived and patiently awaited their turn. 

It worked so well this morning that we plan to repeat the same process tomorrow. Amazingly,  though,  we have this entire patch of desert to ourselves tonight, as we have had for most of the day, except for the myriad stars, the bluebirds, and the javelina tracks.  Social distancing is easy out here in this enchanted land. 

Words

   Often on our journeys, Sandy and I play a road game called Words, an alternating, letter-choosing game where having a broad vocabulary is a boon, but so is the readiness of having the words spring to mind. 

  The word that popped to the forefront for yesterday's adventure was 'hubris'.  

   Our plan was to travel 21 miles of bad road to get to both a hiking area (Fossil Creek) and a hot spring (Verde Hot Springs). Prudently,  we called the local ranger station to check on both road conditions and river levels since we would have to ford the Verde River to get to the springs.  Imprudently,  we ignored the ranger's advice not to travel the road in a low-clearance vehicle,  thinking that if we encountered something we deemed impassable,  we would simply turn around. And her ominous warning that we needed to know how to change a tire didn't apply to us since we would be traveling at banana slug speed. 

  Hubris - in Greek tragedy- excessive pride leading to defiance of the gods, usually (as happened yesterday) leading to the gods handing the heroes their heads on a platter with a side dish of fries and a shaker of salt to rub into any open wounds. 

   After 45 minutes of driving,  we had managed to put 12 miles of bad road behind us and were feeling a bit cocky until an odd sound, a flapping or thwapping, issued from the right front of the rig. Of course!  The ranger's curse!  A flat tire!

  We had the tires checked and inflated before leaving Medford,  but had failed to ask them to check the spare hanging beneath the rig. I had visually and tactilely inspected it when we bought Cora last month,  but hadn't taken it down and off until yesterday,  12 miles up a bad road. Hubris. 

   The spare looked like it wouldn't last a mile. No cell service. The proposition of leaving Cora behind while we masked up and tried to hitch a ride  both directions with a large tire was both daunting and undesirable. 

   So much for the gods. This is the time of the goddess. Sandy to the rescue. She suggested that

we take one of the good tires from the dually rear axle, put it on the front and run the spare on the rear in its place, thereby taking weight off of the spare. 

  And that's exactly what we did, and how we survived the challenge, although on the way back down, we discovered that none of the 6 or 8 tire shops in the valley had the correct tire in stock, and we would have to wait until today to have a couple of them shipped up from Phoenix. 

   The fries are tasty, though a bit salty for my taste. 

  

Safe Travels

Ok kids, today's talk is about traveling safely during these potentially perilous times. With any adventure there comes an element of risk, so risk mitigation is factored into this journey.  So far the biggest risk seemed to be in Oregon, specifically in Klamath Falls, when I entered a gas station store and encountered a sign at the counter stating, 'Due to health reasons,  employees are not required to wear masks.' 

  Because Sandy stocked us so well with groceries and baked goods and prepared dishes, we only stop for gas and propane. (A big shout-out at this point to Robbin and Angeline for a boxful of golden delicious apples hand-picked from their tree, perhaps the last such harvest due to bear damage. Enough apples to last the entire 4 week journey.)

  We are so self-contained that we have only boondock-camped, thus avoiding human contact. Each afternoon we find an isolated spot, preferably one with great views, a relatively easy endeavor in the desert. The weather has been mild enough to sit outside sometimes,  or windchilly enough to drive us into the warmth of Cora's cabin to sit either place and enjoy the expansive vistas and full-spectral sunsets. 

   Mornings find us drinking coffee prepared on the galley stove (usually while Sandy stays huddled in the warmth of the down covers.) The daily weather and map consult follows, along with a leisurely leave- taking. 

  Sound safe?  We think so. Flexible also. We planned before this Monday morning entry to go for a hike in Sycamore Canyon,  at the upper end of the Verde Valley here in Central Arizona. However,  clouds have moved in and covered the sun, so we may move an hour or two down the road to Verde Hot Springs. Such is the unhurried pace we have adopted on this road, in this time. 

With love, David and Sandy 

https://purarica.blogspot.com/2020/12/pandemic-springs.html 

Pandemic Springs

 3rd dawn of the trip, somewhere near Death Valley in Southern Nevada -

After a staccato beginning,  we spent the first night of the journey in Cora up outside of our friends' cabin at Lake of the Woods. We drove out to the highway through packed snow and have enjoyed dry, sunny roads ever since.   We found two springs that day, the first only a 3 1/2 hour drive from Ashland,  Eagleville Hot Springs. A solo Portlander shared the hotter of the two pools with us, but there was plenty of room for social distancing,  and the lower pool was sufficiently warm if we had chosen solitude.

 Another 2 1/2 hr drive found us at one of the more unusual springs I've ever been in: Trego Hot Springs,  on the edge of the Black Rock playa. It was a warm creek, 2-4' deep, several feet wide, with steep banks and a silty bottom that I sank as much as a foot down into. The temperatures alternated between scalding and slightly chilly,  so an arm egg-beater motion helped make it bearable...mostly. After sleeping out under a meteor-filled sky, we drove a few hours down to Spencer,  one of my favorites. 3 pools, each with handmade benches and hot enough to enjoy. Of course,  though,  several others wanted to as well, so after a 30 min soak, we headed south in front of a snowstorm and spent the night on a side road south of Goldfield, Nevada. 

Morning dawned cloudy and ominous,  so we continued skedaddling south through Lost Wages and into Arizona, where we now sit after a rousing game of margarita bocce and an outdoor shower in the desert sunshine. 

Cora has been cruising at 14+ mpg, and we are all beginning to understand each other in this warm, comfortable,  confined space. 

So much for logic and information. Poetry and insight to follow in the upcoming days of our journey. Be well and happy, my fellow travelers, both real and vicarious.  

Love and Gratitude

Barring the most heroic of journeys, Mt.Everset and Kiliminjaro included, and more inclined toward the trials endured by your average intrepid voyager, airports and the myriad ways of discomfort and delay they are adept at administering by the resulting  demand to our practice of patience and fortitude, surpass the most challenging of situations.

We have arrived safely, contentedly, and nourished in ways we are still yet to know, back to Ashland. Spring arrived during our departure, and we are welcomed back by blooming daffodils, quince, flowering almond, camellia, and in my opinion, the queen of this time of year’s heavenly scents, daphne odora. Our hearts rejoiced in grateful union to the snow pack and swollen rivers we viewed from the metal bird that carried us.

It will be a long while before the taste of agua pipa ( fresh cold coconut water) leaves our memory. However, regardless of what earthly pleasure we might be embracing at any given moment, our shared quiet and often laughter-filled delicious harmony is what has penetrated most deeply into my heart.

Sophia, David, and I created a place of mutual consideration and beauty only to match that which resided around us in both the natural and social environment. We found that Pachamama responded to our peaceful heart song by sharing openly her countless ways of exquisite expression at the places we visited. The people that we encountered responded to our joint mirth with ease and acceptance.  We treated each other with baskets and urns and botellas full of the same, of course, and slipped easily into a soft, malleable configuration of ways to travel and stay and play and dance and cook and eat and sing and breathe together.

Sophia ventured forward to continue her quest with another member of our ever growing family, Ari. After traveling  all together to the border crossing at Los Chiles C.R., we bid them farewell to enjoy the boat ride along a small river gliding through the jungle that would eventually take them to the town where David and I ventured together last year, San Carlos, Nicaragua.

That David and my intended plans for Bali and Australia ended in Costa Rica with Sophia and me doing ceremony together and deepening our ever-growing adoration of each other, and then the three of us  traveling together culminating with the additional light that is Ari, speaks to the path of the heart that is always choosing the correct course, the course of highest intention, regardless of what we think we are doing or where we believe we are going.

This pathway of highest intention, of course, is borne of, resides within, and expresses outwardly through gratitude and love, love and gratitude.  We watched a beautiful video while we were gone called “Water”, which showed among other many beautiful aspects of water its capability for response to even written words of positivity or negativity.  The clarity of both color and crystalline structure bespeaks the way that we humans also respond.  The conclusion of the film spoke of all of the gifts that water bestows upon us and  that all it asks in return is “love and gratitude”.  How perfectly clear and simple!  Water is such a great teacher for pathways and flow.  Be like water, she says.  We respond with love and gratitude.

H-Om

Wherever I travel my destination is always the same. Home.

I look for it during my daily forays into my repeated attempts to simply listen without my  mental chatter interrupting the divine choir around me. I yearn to be 100% present to the howler monkeys' call. To receive with full awareness even the most subtle songs. The wind gently kissing the leaves.. Yes, kissing. You must know that nature is one enormous ode to love.

I search in my wanderings for an exquisitely simple place.  Each dip and dive into the Pacific, a river, or a lake that has caressed my being aids in the purification toward ridding myself of anything that is not of my uncompromised essence. Walking through the jungle and seeing an unknown flower for the first time allows me to experience that moment as completely new and helps me to remember that truth, lest I ever become complacent in my awareness of the gratitude I owe to life for my life. It is through my aliveness that I am able to feel awe and wonder at creation.

What I seek is simply to see vividly with eyes unhindered by automatic labeling which degrades the magnificent splendor of butterflies, hummingbirds, toucans, red macaws, rosette spoonbill and the roosting tree where hundred of egrets go to their communal dreams.

I love the way traveling, in the way we do, allows me to adopt the rhythms of the land and its people. It teaches me another way of being that encourages spaciousness. I could be wrong but I’m pretty sure I’m not because smiles are a universal sign of happiness that the people here are way more laid back with less stress in their lives. It’s a relief and pleasure to be surrounded by a culture that has “pura vida” (pure life) as its greeting. I learn how to take my time in making decisions. I practice feeling what is around me to guide my decision making. I practice spaciousness so that I have room to breathe deeply which helps me expand my awareness.

Similar to the vision quest where one journeys not to have holy communion, which one certainly does, but to take the gifts received and bring them back to your people, I travel to rejuvenate, learn, and grow so that I can be and do my best.

I travel so that I can return to my home which has never been anywhere else than my own heart.

Okay, you caught me. If you know me, you know that the true reason I do anything is to fulfill my pursuit of joy. Maybe as I get older the inner callings will turn my attention more inward but for now I am admittedly a hedonist for sensory pleasure. Bring it on: sights, aromas, tastes, sounds, a million feeling sensations, the wind kissing my cheek.

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Lake Arenal

Two days before flying out of Juan Santamaria Airport, we see our first howlers of this journey when we stop at a group of cabinas owned  by a Swiss woman named Erica at a fresh, breezy, garden-enclosed knoll above Lake Arenal.  The following morning the howlers joined David in his orgasmic yawp, though we didn’t see them again until a couple  of hours later when Sandy stood up and wordlessly disappeared.  I’ve taken that to mean that she has been called out by nature.  She explained later that there was the cuuuuutest little howler infant being cuffed around by its mom, but I’m sure that the original reason was that she was simply drawn outside to feel the presence of the trees.

 In honor of my buddy Robbin and his eternal quest for finding the best breweries that combine great beer with outdoor sports, we’ve booked a lakeview room for the night at a local microbrewery that bills itself as “The best (and only) microbrewery hotel in Costa Rica”.  We’ve already sampled their excellent breakfast coffee and look forward to trying their prize-winning pale ale. 

This blog is currently coming to you from a tree-shaded hammock beside Lake Arenal, where we finished off last night’s delectable pizza from Gutierrez Family Pizzeria in Tronodora.  We are enjoying the chortle of oropendulae in the orange-blossomed poro tree across this small inlet whose view reminds us of Emigrant Lake until the howlers start branch-waving and ooh-oohing across the way. The frogs chorus in with the cicadas and cricket blending as well.  All on a field of blues and greens.  Meanwhile a great egret gracefully, but ever so slowly lifts a foot and extends it smoothly with barely a ripple, hunting along the edges for quick-darting morsels. 

We go for a leisurely swim in the refreshingly cool waters, forgetting that Lake Arenal’s altitude combines with the brilliant reflection off of the water to create a bit of a sunburn.  So I go to dinner later that evening with a face glowing from the sun and the beauty of my surroundings, a face glowing with love.