When HC thinks about how long it takes for a Joshua Tree to reach its maximum growth potential.
How long everything in the high desert waits patiently for rain.
Watching the stars glide across a night sky as the earth makes another rotation around the sun.
As he sits and just watches the light start in the East and end in the West, shadows slowly dancing across the sand.
A lizard watches him with such animal curiosity. A bird sings above to no one, or maybe just to me.
HC looks at a decorative vase filled with dead branches, and makes out images in the spaces inbetween.
Light that soothes the pain within as it glimmers off a reflective window.
Walking in the sand, letting the cool desert air numb his toes.
Time to think about his own mortality, and how it wouldn’t be so bad to have it end out here, where he can become one with the desert that he has come to love.
Step one : Find a place that stirs your soul. The quirky thoughts you have, your demons and innermost desires, all waiting to be released.
Step Two : Let go of everything that capitalism tricks into you into thinking is important. High Desert Living only happens when you recognize that true peace of mind comes from being satisfied with a sunrise, a rabbit under a bush watching you closely, birds circling overhead.
Step Three : Marvel in the passing of time. How the world changes as a sun sets. When a blue mid-day cloudless sky slowly bakes your skin, letting you absorb the goodness that comes from the warmth of the sun.
The last weekend of October was here, and so in ritualistic fashion, HC heads out to Joshua Tree again for his annual sabbatical.
This time he stays at The Shadow House, surrounded by Joshua Trees and silence on all sides. The Zen, minimal flow of the place had him enjoying the sun deck, taking the occasional dip in the hot tub and cowboy bath, and just walking the dirt roads in the area.
Watching Stranger Things again to get ready for the new season starting soon, catching college football and the World Series on the radio. A pack of hungry coyotes passes by his large window. He smiles as thoughts of his sister roll around his mind. Tears wells up then release down his face. It’s helpful to his current emotional state.
The Shadow House is a perfect place to simultaneously remember and forget. To let go as well as hold on to memories.
Back in the Spring, I see Clydesdale’s lined up outside the training facility in Peoria, marking my first spring training game.
It’s a time of hope and possibilities. A dream that perhaps we can get back to the playoffs like in 2023, and not burn out and lose all hope in the last baseball series of the season.
But alas, it was a season full of injuries and some sad disappoints, even though there were a few bright spots along the way, like Star Wars night and some great final inning wins.
Sadly though, we ended up coming just short of making the playoffs for the second year in a row.
Final day in Yosemite, and HC wants to try a hike into the backcountry. Early morning driving to a remote section, he finds the start of a trail which he thinks is called Table Top. The open meadow before him shines in morning light.
Heightened awareness fills his headspace as he gets going along the trail. The repeated warning signs of bear activity will do that to a person. He first comes to the smooth limestone of Table Top, thinks about climbing the rock initially, but changes his mind and decides to stick to the official trail and hike along the mighty rock’s circumference.
Paranoia starts to creep in after a couple of miles, the silence and lack of other people start to mess with HC’s mind. Luckily though the trail opens up to a flowing river and a handful of other hikers enjoying the cool waterfall.
Following the downward trajectory of the water, HC makes his way from the group of hikers to a more solitary spot. The powerful energy emanating here is healing. He stays here for a lengthy spell, taking it all in.
HC decides to explore the waterfall, as the group of hikers have left their spot. He finds a trail unexpectedly, one that seems to be different from the trail he entered this area……
Past the waterfall, he stumbles across of young Buck resting in the shade on the trail. The two stare each other down, not with animosity but more so curiosity. HC walks slowly toward the deer, the buck’s eyes stay on HC as it backs up into the forest. The encounter with nature is thrilling.
So no bear encounters happened on this short hike into Yosemite’s backcountry, and the trail ends up connecting back to the main trail that started this adventure. HC gets back to his vehicle, opens his cooler and makes another picnic lunch under the mountains of this special National Park. This trip has been just as much about simple sandwiches as it has been majestic views and peaceful scenery.
In his life thus far, HC has found that almost every time he travels, there is always one day in particular that stands out from the rest. It’s a day of magic and wonder. During his time in Yosemite, this day was when he went to Glacier Point.
His philosophy of our world having special vortexes of energy was once again validated. A place where his body feels renewed as the power of nature flows into his cells, healing the damage within.
Walking along the edge of the park from up on high, he thinks about the passage of time it took to carve such glacial mountains. The water constantly running, flowing, etching every so slowly a new forming path. It really puts into perspective how small we humans really are, how meaningless we are in the grand scheme of creation throughout the Universe.
HC finishes his second cup of coffee just as the sun starts to rise over the Yosemite Valley. He sees the infamous church, the spire piercing the sun. Not being a fan of religion, he still finds the church a powerful metaphor in the presence of such a natural wonder.
Their are miles of trails along the Yosemite Valley floor. The green meadows fill his senses with memories. With no set plan or destination, he just lets his feet do the walking, and we’ll see what can be discovered.
Coming up to a waterfall cascading down from up high, finding a lone deer foraging for breakfast in the shadows of a grove of trees, squirrels working hard for a morning snack. HC keeps clocking in the miles walking along the Yosemite Valley trail system.
As the morning starts to disappear and noon approaches his stomach starts to rumble. He finds a place to make a sandwich from the contents of his cooler. Such a simple meal brings profound enjoyment. He savours each bite under the glacially carved rocks all around him.
One could say that Nature is his religion, if one must characterize a belief system.
Although HC tried to research the best that he could (which sometimes is not all that good) the hope was that Foresta was actually as close to Yosemite as the listing stated it was…..
Back in January he selected this homestead as his base camp for exploring Yosemite. Now at the beginning of the Labor Day weekend, he finds himself driving through Yosemite National Park, looking for signage to Foresta. No cell service for maps to help him.
An old barn in an open field, devoid of any water for ages showcases a dry landscape ready to go up in flames at any moment. The ongoing drought out here in California is real. HC continues down the dirt road, eventually finding his homestead cabin in the unincorporated community. No stores of any kind, just a smattering of homes built on the mountain.
Views of El Capitan can been seen from a hill a short distance for his temporary home. Deer grace the dry fields in the early mornings, lizards lie the porch soaking in the warm afternoon sun as HC sips on cocktails until the sun goes down. It is the perfect spot to explore the park by day, and watch the stars at night. The Milky Way is as clear out here as he remembers it being when he was a child.
A rolling blackout causes the power to go out on day two, making it warmer inside that outside. Just like the cowboys and pioneers of yesteryear. HC wasn’t planning on showering anyway. The quiet becomes even more so, as everything sits unders the trees in silence.
HC can only imagine that the only people that enter Yosemite from the Eastern entrance are the few that would be RV’ing across the USA from Reno, Nevada. Add a lone solo traveler road tripping from Phoenix up along the 395 highway. The quiet, majestic and rugged beauty from this end of the park was exactly how he hoped to start his few days here.
The haze in the sky that had been following him the last few hours broke free, opening up blue skies as he climbed in elevation. HC pulls off to the side of the road to hike along the Merced river’s humble beginnings, find deer enjoying the summer day under the shade of some pines.
He opens his cooler, makes a sandwich and has a little picnic, something he hasn’t done for decades. It feels good to just get back to simple things.
The urge to takes photos in Black and White is strong. Channeling his inner Ansel Adams, just like HC did nineteen years ago when he was first here. The circle of life, he supposes…..
Twelve hours alone in your car gives one plenty of time to reflect. HC takes his first extended holiday in 2025 with a road trip from the sonoran desert to the mojave desert along the scenic route 395.
Going along at a leisurely pace, HC day dreams of the future when his whole life will be filled with lazy days on the road during retirement. But that time is still seven plus years away.
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As he comes to the Eastern Sierra nevada mountain range, he dreams of climbing Mount Whitney. HC remembers 2015 and his first time being out here, but that seems like a lifetime ago. Even further back, in 2006 was his first time coming to Yosemite on a solo road trip from Utah, back when his sister would answer the phone to delight him with her cheerful nature.
His eyes become misty as he reaches Lee Vining and the eastern entrance to Yosemite…..
