Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Every Mile In Winter - Part 1

Yesterday my Mountain Boy, my pup and I drove out towards Yellowstone National Park and to the Shoshone National Forest.
The day was very cold and very windy, but the sky was mostly blue and it was a beautiful winter day in the west.
By the time we had traveled only ten miles from Cody and were standing at a pull-off looking out over Buffalo Bill Reservoir I realized that I was not wearing enough clothes to deal with the weather. 
I should have known better. 
My experience this winter is that it is always freezing around the reservoir and the wind always always blows strongly and coldly at this time of year.
And so I stood at the pull-off, looking out over the choppy water of the reservoir and the partially snow covered Carter Mountain that was located at the end of the Southfork (but which looked as though it were only a few miles away) and I was cold.
I was freezing cold and stood battling against the wind, looking out over a world that was very beautiful and was acutely aware of the fact that I was in no hurry to turn back towards the truck where my guy and my dog were patiently waiting for me..........
I had seen it as we were driving along the empty highway, and then stood in the wind watching this scene in amazement after LC had pulled the truck to a stop.
The reservoir in the summer is filled with clear blue water and in the past I have stood in this same place watching the fishing boats that dot the surface.
In the winter the reservoir is an interesting mix of surfaces.
Close to the dam and the Visitors Center the water is completely frozen.
The main portion of the reservoir is a choppy mixture of blue water and white waves.
At the far end of the reservoir and into the narrow channel that turns into the Shoshone River there is only dust and dried mud.
It was this dust and dried mud that I was now looking at because the wind was so relentless and so strong that it had created an isolated sand storm.
God it was cold..............
As we continued further down the highway I continued to watch the sandstorm, and on the spur of the moment asked LC to pull off one more time so that I could take pictures of the back side of the storm.
Turning left off the two lane highway he pulled into a large gravel parking area.
By this time Jamie - my spoiled rotten dog - was whining uncontrollably and desperately trying to communicate with her people that she wanted OUT and she wanted out RIGHT NOW.
Holding onto the door of the truck so that it wouldn't blow open I battled the wind one more time, struggling to hang onto the door and onto my insistent dog at the same time.
LC could barely hear me over the wind (that was not just strong but was actually becoming violently strong), as I handed our dog off to him so that I could concentrate of photo taking.
Man and pup wandered away from me and I reached into the side pocket of my pack for my little digital camera, which has steadfastly earned its keep over the past couple of years.................
I watched as LC reluctantly battled the wind and dust and as Jamie happily danced her way towards puppy-freedom..............
We were parked to the far left of the reservoir.............
When I first climbed out of the truck I had planned on taking pictures around me and then crossing over to the opposite side of the road so that I could photograph the now-empty campground and then the partially snow covered mountains that surrounded us.
After only a couple of minutes I abandoned that plan and yelled and then waved at LC, imploring him to come back.
The wind was ridiculously strong, outrageously cold, and this was a place to neither dilly nor dally.
It was freezing cold, and I hoped that as we continued further into the forest, the mountains on both sides of us would protect us from the wind.
If I was wrong we would be cutting our trip short.................
Instead of heading back towards the highway we continued driving on a secondary road that we both knew would circle back to the highway in a few miles.
As we crossed over the bridge near the parking lot I snapped this picture of the very low and partially frozen Shoshone River.
On the other side of the bridge was only the mud and dust that was feeding our wind-fed storm.............
Cody and the world leading up to the national forest is a world of beige almost all year round but especially in the winter.
On sunny days in the winter the world sometimes looks monochromatic, and sometimes it looks like a watery, diluted mix of muted colors.
My frame of reference (that has been built over a lifetime) tells me that this is not a beautiful place.
It is like nothing I have ever experienced before.
But I have found rugged beauty in this world though, and I find it pleasing.
Still, as we continued to drive this side road as it slowly circled back towards the highway, I was eager to get into the Shoshone National Forest.
Rugged, high plains desert has its own unique beauty but it does not - cannot ever - compare to the rivers, pine trees and snow covered peaks of the forest.....................
A small building located at the intersection of Stagecoach Trail (the side road we had been following) and the two lane highway that led to the forest and Yellowstone.
I quickly snapped a picture of the building and then walked to the corner so that I could snap pictures of the closed-for-the-season lodge and other small buildings that were located across the road....................
Once back on the highway we drove only a couple more miles before LC unexpectedly pulled off the highway again.
As usual, we were making slow progress during our drive.
But that didn't matter. 
None of the lodges or outfitters along the route were open at this time of year, half of the campgrounds and picnic areas were closed for the season, the East Gate of the park was closed, and there was really only one reason to be on this highway.
That reason was to see and experience - the mountains, the river, whatever animals we were lucky enough to run into.
At this time of year the locals have the luxury of not being goal oriented and the highway belongs to them. 
On this day the highway belonged to us.
Beyond the reservoir we did not pass one vehicle the entire time we were out yesterday, and so we pulled off the highway constantly, u-turned constantly, pulled onto the wrong side of the highway constantly, in our pursuit of animals and mountains and rivers.
And we liked that freedom very much..............
As all three of us travelers wandered close to the river I looked around me again.
The world was silent.  No more wind.  No traffic or air planes.
Only a few miles back there had been no snow, and SNAP - just like that - we were in the mountains and in the snow.
The snow was old.  It was obvious that there had been no new snow in weeks.
We had taken our sweet time but we had made it to the forest..............
Every mile is two in winter.............George Herbert

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Little Stars


I downloaded these pictures a few days ago and have been staring at the pictures and the white page surrounding them ever since, trying to think of something interesting, articulate, insightful, compelling to write about them.
Finally I am admitting defeat and simply posting the pictures.
The writers block appears to be total and complete.
Jamie in her favorite place and doing her favorite thing on the couch.
The other pictures are of Clark Wyoming..............
When he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun............William Shakespeare

Friday, February 1, 2013

Shadows Of Our Feelings

On a very cold and mostly sunny winter day, LC and I went for a drive to the small neighboring town of Lovell.
When I used the term "neighboring town" in Tennessee, that typically meant a town 15 or 20 minutes drive from where we lived.
And in the highly populated but small state of Tennessee our town was completely encircled by neighboring towns only a short distance away from each other in every direction.
Lovell is an hour away from Cody - through the small farming town of Powell and then through miles of empty BLM land and then through the tiny-tune-town of Cowley and then through more miles of BLM land before finally reaching Lovell.
My Mountain Boy and I have been half-heartedly exploring other housing options, including the possibility of buying a home here.
Not Cody.  It is too expensive in Cody.  Other neighboring towns don't value their houses or their land quite so highly.  
But only half-heartedly looking and in truth buying a house will likely not happen anytime soon.
We are still too lost.  The economy is still too bad.  The world still doesn't make any sense to us.  We still don't know where we are supposed to be.  We still have a house in Tennessee.
Lovell is a nice enough town, though blue collar and fairly nondescript.  It is Wyoming-close to Yellowstone but also to the Big Horn Mountains, and there-in lies the draw.
While there LC stopped briefly so that I could take pictures of this wall.
Filled with military symbolism from all decades, this colorful and wonderful mural fills the entire length of the outside of a commercial downtown building.
There is more snow in Lovell than in Cody, and while LC and James kept the truck running and warm, I slowly wandered the length of the painting and then the rest of the small park.
Small town Wyoming has respect for military service, and that is a common bond with small town Tennessee..............
My youngest son Chris (who is living in Calgary Alberta right now) has talked to me often over the past year about working in the oil fields up there.
Lots of money.  The oil workers make lots of money, he told me.  And he wanted a piece of that.
When I talked about the rigs in North Dakota he already knew what I knew - no places to stay, small towns that have swelled overnight into large towns, the inability of these towns to cope with the increasing traffic, violence, noise, prices.
Wyoming rigs where jobs are competitive and hard to get.
Canada had been doing this years he told me.  They paid for your transportation to and from.  Provided housing.  Drug screened.  
Finally Chris called me about a month ago and excitedly told me that he was headed to a rig in Northern British Columbia. 
I asked him to call me if he was able, knowing that cell phone reception in BFE British Columbia was largely non-existent.  
When you file paperwork please put me down as your emergency contact.
And no matter where you are in the country - no matter where - if you need me I will be there.
The next day Chris called me to say that they had rescinded their job offer.
He sounded heartbroken.  
He was unusually abrupt with me and then he said something I had never ever heard my easy going son say in his entire life.  
"I'm just stressed out mom - I gotta go find a job".
A week later Chris told me that he had received an offer from another oil company 4 hours from Calgary.  He was going to drive there.
Two days later he called me to say that the drive had turned out to be 8 hours long, that he had started work that same day and that it had been rough.  He didn't want to talk about it.
Two days after that he called me to apologize for being abrupt with me, and that work was better.
A week later my son was back in Calgary with a week off, and was scheduled to return to work for another two weeks in a few days.
He didn't want to go back.
The job was dangerous.  Many workers were stoned.  Everybody was unhappy and depressed and stressed out.
Some hadn't seen women in months.
Nobody liked their job.
Nobody seemed to like their life.
He didn't want to go back.  Didn't want to live like that, and decided that the money wasn't worth it.
I told him - don't go back.
They may not all be as bad as this one Chris.  But don't go back there.
The last time I spoke with him he had two interviews lined up back in Calgary............

Thoughts are the shadows of our feelings - always darker, emptier and simpler.........Friedrich Nietzsche