Boondocking is an interesting exercise for someone fresh out of the corporate structure. I have never been much of a “color outside the lines” person. Much to my chagrin, I have been a rule-follower all my life, which made me a good data analyst. Left brain stuff, I am really good at….Right brain? Not so much.
Sunrise reflecting in the Winnie window
Driving Hwy 24 through Capitol Reef National Park
Overlooking the Fruita campground at Capitol Reef
So to pull into the wide open spaces for free-form parking with no white lines on the asphalt takes me about 5 times longer. Which direction should I point? Am I going to be able to get level with only 8 lego blocks? What if I am too close to my friends and invading their privacy? What if I am blocking their view? A ruled parking lot is sooooo much easier! Then, if I am blocking their view or invading their personal space, it is the park’s fault, not mine!
Winnie View at sunrise
“Goldie” in the golden dawn
Red rock in our boondock camp set ablaze by the fire sky at sunrise
So imagine the pressure….driving up the lone, dusty road toward a parking lot full of people; some friends you haven’t seen in a month like Jim, Gayle, and Debbie, some you have never met like Allison and Jim, and then there are those you have “known” for two years, but never met face to face, like Mark and Bobbie. Figures they would all be outside when I arrive….all lined up to watch like a line-up of tough Russian judges as I round the corner and climb the bluff, trying to act like driving on a deserted dirt road is something I do all the time! When in fact, this is only my second boondock ever! (My first, Government Wash, I was all alone, which presented a whole different set of challenges!)
The old settler town of Fruita is full of orchards. It’s U-Pick apple time!
Or if you prefer, you can just “U-Pick” a freshly made pie from the historic Gifford House.
The first night after my arrival, I awake at 3:00am thinking “What now?” I have been on what feels like “The Amazing Race” since I left Texas last March. First deadline was the Skinnie Winnie rally in Canyonville, Oregon in May. Then it was a race around the Olympic Peninsula to make Glacier Park by September before winter forced a closure of the Going to the Sun Road. And finally, just about the time I start to relax and meander back south for the winter, the Tracker engine goes belly-up, and it is off to the races again to Texas and back.
So really, this first night in the Capitol Reef boondock is the first time I find myself with no future plans. No reports due. No conference calls scheduled. No future destinations to research. Much scarier than the dark and deafening silence out my window!
I feel like the dog that chased the car and finally caught it. What now?? All kinds of crazy thoughts are running through my mind, like leaving at first light. I will tell them…(what will I tell them?) More importantly, where would I go? As the old saying goes, “No matter where you go, you take yourself with you,” so I try to relax by bringing myself back to the “present moment”…3:00am, when the present moment dictates that I should be sleeping! But I can’t sleep!
There is “big hike” planned tomorrow. Well, big in my book, small in theirs. I lie awake worrying about embarrassing myself by not being able to keep up. Not only am I a slow, out of shape hiker who has spent 5 out of 7 days at the desk for the past 24 years, but I have also come from an elevation of <500 ft in Dallas to 6,800 feet in just a few days. What little fitness level I have acquired is gone, having spent the past two weeks in a lawn chair, handing Don sockets and wrenches. How is it that I find myself in the midst of experienced boondockers and cyborg hikers feeling so out of my element?
This is the sunrise view from Jim, Gayle, and Debbie’s overlook
The view from my window shows…A man walking a cat??
A closer look reveals Sophie taking Jim for a walk…
I see a glow reflecting off my bedroom wall, so I look out the window at oncoming lights reflecting off the side of “Goldie,” Mark and Bobbie’s rig. I am worried that it is uninvited guests coming up the hill. But then I realize no, it is just the golden half-moon rising up over the canyon. It occurs to me that I am in a place where I can see sunrise, sunset, and moonrise, all from the same spot. I look up through my bedroom window and see the brilliant Seven Sisters star cluster straight overhead amidst an uncountable number of stars, and all at once, all is right with the world…
Ah, the exhale at last! What a great spot to get acclimated! And, by the way, I think your right brain works perfectly fine– imagine how much more it will now flourish without all that mindless data to deal with on a daily basis!
I’m just down the road in Escalante. Coming this way?
Tears welled up in my eyes, whilst reading this account of your feelings. I have had them so many times myself. Not precisely the same, but the overwhelming feeling of the wondrousness of it all just pours out of me when I think about it. The morning light . . . well, what can I say that you didn’t already experience? It is a fleeting moment, but touches my soul every time I see it! I am so very jealous! ;->
Virtual hugs,
Judie
Wow. Compelling stuff all around. And great accompanying photos. Love the one of Sophie and Jim – both looking so very noble.
You may be a data analyst, but you sure do have a way with words. Yet another great post. Please keep sharing!
But you looked so GOOD coming down the dirt road; cool, collected, totally in command of the vehicles. We were very impressed with your handling of the brake buddy and the tow bar.
I too lived so much of my life with responsibilities, commitments and obligations that dictated my daily activities. My ‘plans’ were often laid out for me before consulting the desires of my heart ever came into play. It took some time before I could get up in the day and come up with an answer to my question……What do I want to do today? Take all the time you need to be sure the answer is to your question…… It becomes too easy to fall into others plans and follow along. I know you will find your way and discover exactly what YOU want to do. After all there are more tomorrows.
Fabulous pictures to go with a wonderful sincere post about what it’s like to be starting a brand new life with nothing you HAVE to do. How great for you! This was a wonderful read Suzanne. Wish I knew how to do a break buddy and tow bar.
Wow! What colors and amazing rock formations you captured in your photos. Love the one with the barn against the rocks and the trees in the foreground. I have always “colored outside of the lines” thinking that everyone did. It is good to hear your thoughts about stepping out. Well done! You picked a spectacular place to boondock and just let your surroundings guide you from one thought to the next. Rest and listen. You deserve it after your last challenge!
Talk about go, go, go…then abrupt stop! My goodness that would be something of a shock to the system. Just breathe…
Totally awesome sunrise!! The photos are gorgeous:)
Great photos. As you say 24 years at a desk hasnt helped but now with retirement there’s an opportunity to get fit.
Intrepid Suzanne,
What an example for other wanna-bee women you are… facing your worst social and mechanical fears, looking them dead in the eye. You brush them aside as you walk through doors whose thresholds are foreign, not knowing what lies beyond. You take on hikes that are physically over your head, but find a way to finish. This is the “stuff” of rebirth… where your left brain assumes control and you just relax, enjoy the ride, and trust it knows what’s best. You may feel alone on this quest, but a hundred people would come to your aid at the drop of a “help.” That’s the cool Sisterhood and Brotherhood of the Ya Ya RV World 🙂
Like I said, “Intrepid.”
Box Canyon Mark
P.S. You are blocking my view!!! 🙂
What you are experiencing is a lot like landing an aircraft on a navy carrier. One second you are going a couple of hundred miles an hour then you are stopped. Welcome to retirement!?
The guilt you feel for having nothing to do is self generated and will subside and then you will enjoy the new status and being not only being able to think outside the box, but living outside the box.
Relaxation is its own reward.
Once again, thanks for the pictures, beautiful as well as the thoughts.
peace,
Allen and Deede
So jealous and I hope someday you trek back up to MT (past all the horrible memories) and stop and see us! 🙂 You are SO going to enjoy being out of the rat race!
Lynne — It is such a great spot to get acclimated, I am having a tough time leaving. 😉
Susan — See you soon!
Judie — What a kind thing to say. Wish you could see it in person, but it makes me happy to know that the photos stir a little reminiscence.
Kim — That Sophie is quite a poser, huh? Hope you are well…
Tom W — Thanks so much for the nice compliment!
Allison — Hitching and unhitching, I got! Parking in the dirt? I need a bit more practice. LOL! Great to meet you and Jim!
Karen — Thanks for the nice comment. The problem is, I want to do it all! Hard to choose sometimes with such beautiful places all around!
Sherry — I’ll bet after Winnona and Ruby, the Tracker would be like hooking up a bicycle!
Charlotte — Thanks for the comment. I had a very stern mother who liked her kids coloring within the lines. LOL! (Hi, Mom!)
Lisa — Thanks…I am settling in a bit finally. Now when I wake up at 3am, it is to look at the stars, not freak out. 😉
Pam — Thanks for the nice compliment. So sorry we won’t see you here at Camp Red Rocks, but I think our paths will surely cross soon!
Dave — Thanks. Yes, I have no excuse now that I am not tied to the desk!
BC Mark — Nicest comment ever….thanks, my friend!
Allen — YES! That is exactly how it feels. You described that well. Thanks to you and Deede for sticking with me..
Absolutely on my knees beauty, Suzanne… the colors! your interpretation of your surroundings and what you’re going through ~ the gamut of emotions.
Again … you are an inspiration ~ just freakin awesome! 😉