listening after dark

Recap: First summer camping trip

Last weekend, despite the promise of rain, we took off north, for Buffalo or Story or somewhere thereabouts. As is usually the case when car camping, we had enough supplies for a week. Yet we forgot the dutch oven and charcoal (rather, I forgot to ask Wes to bring his), so we had to turn around a few miles north of Casper to get them. It always takes a long time to get out of town: getting gas and donuts, me buying a fishing license, Wes buying a map. Etc.

During the drive, Wes observed the progress of his weed killing endeavors along I-25, while I...what did I do? Oh yeah, took pictures of stuff. The green green lands. Wes's pygmy tongue. My feet.

Driving toward Story, we passed this fire and of course had to turn into a side road to get a closer look. Alas, there were many trees in the way, but it didn't look like an intentional fire. Fun! I mean, bad. Nearby, we stopped to learn about the Wagon Box Fight. Wes was excited!

A short while later, we intended to fish a certain stream, but the water was so high that it covered part of the trail. So we thought this path might take us up and over. It did not. It also ceased to be a trail, provided much poison ivy to navigate around and continued upward at an extreme angle. Then we came back down. (Please note, Wes is not wearing a fanny pack. It's a fishing waist pack. Very different.)

Now this is camping.

Big bag of dry wood, courtesy of my neighbor. Hatchet, of course. Wine and backgammon. See the fancy dutch oven with hot coals on top? That was my contribution: dinner, in the form of Mexican cornbread casserole with lots of cheese on top. I've made it many times at home, with great results. Somehow the dutch oven was hotter than my home oven, and so I burned it. The cheese-crusted cornbread was great, especially with the honey Wes had luckily brought, but the meat, onions, olives, corn, tomatoes...incinerated. Evaporated. Not stuck to the pan, just gone.

Wes said, "We're too ugly for photos." Really, we (I) just don't do the camera-held-at-the-end-of-the-arm thing very well. But these are nice shots of Wes's (big, and Portuguese) nose.

He smiled! Almost.

Later in the evening, with darkness settling, our stomachs full of cornbread and honey, our palates tempered by wine and beer, we turned to other entertainment: firewood as drumsticks and chew toys.

I leave you with images of some common Wyoming wildlife: White-Tailed Deer, Lazily Grazing Horse and, my personal favorite, Scruffy Wild Man With Truck. Take care, these creatures are not as docile as they may seem.

Wild, wet, wooly

Wild: The weekend with Leah was a fun and eventful one. In brief, we scaled rocky precipices, observed an antique car parade, contemplated attending the sock hop (but $15 was too steep to dance on concrete—no thanks), forded rivers (with some complications), ate a good deal of raw fish, enjoyed ice cream and pizza, took scads of photos (some of which we will share) and played disc golf in the wind and rain.

Wet: Yes, rain. It's been a very Washington weekend, and I blame Leah. It's been wetter, calmer and more humid than it usually is, so she is now under the impression that Casper's climate has something in common with Seattle's. Interestingly, when my brother visited Casper from Seattle/Montreal two summers ago, it was also very rainy. But green follows rain, therefore I suppose it's OK with me. Plus I don't have to water my flowerbed tonight. And I may even see some seedlings emerge soon.

Wooly: After spending about an hour sorting through my digital music and deleting a good deal of songs (at least 2 gigs, I think), I updated my iPod and pressed play. There followed: "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida," "Comptine D'Un Autre: L'Apres Midi" and "Wooly Bully." Unique memories are associated with each of those songs. The first I listened to on a hot summer day, probably in 2004, while driving from Walla Walla to the Snake River and Palouse Falls. The second is from Amélie, but it also reminds me of a hostel in Montreal, where someone was playing the soundtrack in the common kitchen/dining area, when I was there during a very rainy week in October 2005. The third song was played an interminable number of times by my dance teacher at Whitworth, January 2003, when I took ballroom dancing. We learned the triple-step swing to that song. Over and over and over.

A sample of Wyoming's greening (compared to the same view in March):

Black Hills retrospective

April 10: Concluding a week of freedom between jobs, on my way to a cave tour, then a night at a spa with an hourlong massage. Listening to Kurt Vonnegut short stories, of course. An idyllic scene deserves bizarre fiction.

Not to count my chickens, but...

...the eggs are looking pretty good.

Had a great road trip last week across eastern Wyoming and western South Dakota. Some snow, clouds, wind, but also lovely hills, rocks and caves, as well as a myriad of hot tubs and other relaxing apparatuses. Mostly it was nice just to be on the road, listening to music and audiobooks, mapping my path hour by hour, eating whenever I wanted, watching TV in the hotel room after a dip in the heated pool and hot tub. I have rarely taken such a luxurious, slow vacation.

My new job, three days in, is looking pretty great. I am amazed how enjoyable it is to check books in and out, help people find what they're looking for, and chat with co-workers about books, movies and music. I guess I've found my geeky family.

I finalized my plane tickets for July. Four days in Seattle with family, then five days in Hawaii for my fabulous friend Kai's wedding. I already have a great Honolulu restaurant list from a generous friend, and I plan to spend a lot of time in the sun and sand. Of course, pulled pork and macaroni salad will be an essential part of my time there.

My great blog friend Leah is coming to visit over Memorial Day weekend. We're thinking big: hiking, disc golfing, sushi eating, pie making. It will be a delicious weekend, I'm sure.

Plus, Monday night was a great dance class, and tonight I had fun with the youth group at church. The kids were extra silly and rambunctious, but for once the adults were a little sillier. It was good.

Two grad school applications are in. One may not be complete, but I'm trying to sort that out. The other is in a couple of weeks before the deadline, so it should be fine. So now comes the waiting, while I continue learning at work and waiting for spring. This week I saw the first flowers: daffodils, grape hyacinth, dwarf iris. Buds are starting to appear on the shrubbery. Yesterday I even smelled mown grass. After our snowstorm tomorrow, we may actually settle into some kind of spring.

Travels in South Dakota

Monday: Devils Tower. Tuesday: Black Hills, Mount Rushmore drive-by.

Wednesday: Wall Drug, Badlands National Park. (Found a new boyfriend.)

Snippets

• Five days in Washington reminded me how much I enjoy fog and dislike wind. Lots of family time, pie, games, later nights than usual, time with old friends (and a new baby!). Good flights, The Office, even some knitting.

• Now it's 18 degrees and we've had rain, thunder, hail and snow since yesterday afternoon. I wore my happy silk long underwear for the first time this winter.

• I'm really thinking I might do this library science master's thing. So far the Kansas-based Emporia program in Salt Lake is looking most promising. I had a good conversation with one of the public reference librarians, who actually went to Emporia in Kansas. Her job sounds pretty cool: helping people, ordering books, planning events. So now the GREs. I always did enjoy tests requiring the precise shading of tiny boxes.

• I spent the evening with the youth at church, so I'm kind of hyper and tired at once. It's my usual Wednesday sensation.

• I'm reading and/or listening to three books right now, all having to do partly or mostly with the West from various angles.
  - Three Cups of Tea
  - Little House on the Prairie
  - Where the Bluebird Sings to the Lemonade Springs
It's a huge place, this West. And not very populated. And difficult to categorize. With which states, for example, do you lump Wyoming or Utah? "Mountain West" seems most appropriate. But New Mexico? Idaho? South Dakota? How about "Those Big Square States in the Middle"?

Call for road trip ideas

Next month my brother and his girlfriend are moving from Montreal to Seattle, and they'll by road-tripping to get there. I'm planning out most of their route—because Matt is happy to relinquish the chore and I've been to several of the places along the way. Luckily Michele will be with him to navigate, because if he was trying to do that he'd probably end up in Texas or something. (He's finally admitted that he has no sense of direction.)

Anyway, the route will take them through Ontario, upper Michigan, northern Wisconsin and Minnesota, North Dakota, South Dakota, Wyoming, Utah and Idaho. I have a pretty good idea of some of the things they can see along the way, but I would love more ideas, as well as options for places to stay (do you live in those areas? know someone there? remember a great hotel, campground, etc.?), places to eat and anything else you want to add.

Urge for going*

After a weeklong vacation in New Mexico, it was a shock to return home to autumn. It was 90 degrees when we left on August 30, and today it barely crested 60. It's nice, though, and gave me a good reason to make a big lasagna yesterday. But summer seemed awfully fast, and shorter than usual. Maybe that's what happens when you get old. By the time I'm 50 a year will seem like two weeks. How strange.

(See, I tricked you with my previously scheduled posts. You didn't even know I was gone. In fact, you were probably surprised I had so much to say.)

I don't think I've mentioned it here, but Wes and I have been thinking about moving on from Casper soon. We both applied for jobs in various places around the mountain west, but it looks like no one wants us right now. So we'll probably be in Casper until next year. Then who knows what we'll do next.

I'm feeling that traveling itch again (always). I wish Elmer was up for a good road trip. Even though we just drove to New Mexico and back (in Wes's 1987 4Runner, which did amazingly well), I want to get out there and wander around a bit, see some new and strange places. It's hard for me to be settled in the fall, since most of my adventures and moves have begun at this time of year:
• Three years ago, the nationwide road trip.
• Six years ago, the study tour in the British Isles.
• Seven years ago, moving away for college.
• Nine years ago, driving to Lake Chelan with my parents, my first long stint behind the wheel.
• 11 years ago, moving with my family from Cheney to Olympia.
• 14 years ago, driving and taking the ferry to Canada and Alaska.
• 16 years ago, touring national parks in the western states with my family, camping in the van and exploring all kinds of forests and back roads.

New Mexico was so unusually green and lush—due to the rain they've had all summer—and it was still summer-warm there, but now I'm back in Wyoming and I already feel like I'll soon be hunkered down for winter, walking to work in the wind. I'm not sure how I feel about that.

*A little Joni Mitchell:

I awoke today and found the frost perched on the town
It hovered in a frozen sky, then it gobbled summer down
When the sun turns traitor cold
and shivering trees are standing in a naked row
I get the urge for going but I never seem to go

I get the urge for going
When the meadow grass is turning brown
Summertime is falling down and winter is closing in

...

I'll ply the fire with kindling and pull the blankets to my chin
and I'll the vagrant winter out and bolt my wandering in
I'd like to call back summertime and have her stay jut another month or so
She's got the urge for going and I guess she'll have to go

Balloons, marshmallows, fishies

It's been a fun—and too-fast—summer. I don't know if I'll ever get used to working during the summer. It just doesn't seem right. (At least at present we're having "office Olympics," which makes things a little more festive.) Perhaps this feeling of being cheated out of a long vacation comes from my homeschooling years, when summer meant no homework (instead of very little), camping trips and fun with the family. But I've been having fun this summer, too.

About the photos, from left to right:
• A couple of weekends ago, I got up at 6 a.m. to watch the balloons take off for the annual balloon festival. Little did I know that last year I could have been in one of them. Because he was writing an article about the festival, Wes was offered a free ride but declined, as he didn't want to go and I was out of town. Of course the offer was no good this year. Dangit.

• Marshmallows toast much better with a telescoping, twirlable roasting stick. Wes gave it to me a couple of years ago, and I finally remembered to pack it. Best marshmallows ever!

• We went backpacking last weekend in the Big Horn Mountains. After 4 miles uphill, a touch of hail, digging a fire pit and a bottle and a half of wine, we were a wee bit tired.

• Willow Lake was lovely the next morning, and I caught tons of fish! (At least 10. With three times as many hits that got away.) My fish story: I've been learning to fly fish for, oh, two years now. I had previously only caught one fish on my own, last summer in southern Wyoming. I was getting a little bored with it, frankly, and told Wes as much on the drive to the trailhead. However, after several hours of fishing Willow Lake, I wasn't bored at all. In fact, he was ready to go before I was. And that's a first.

• Here's one of my fishies. They were rather attractive graylings with cool fins on the top of their bodies. You can barely see it here. After never unhooking a fish or tying on my own fly, I managed to accomplish both tasks with minimal trauma—to myself or the fishies.

Home to summer

Vacation is over. Montreal was lovely and my belly still feels full of wonderful food. After a full day of flights, layovers and delays yesterday, I was grateful to work just until noon today. Thanks to Parade Day for the afternoon off. After biking to the grocery store, I've been ensconced at home all afternoon, unpacking, cleaning, baking cookies. Soon it's time for dinner and then sleep. Tomorrow I resume rock climbing, with the sincere hope that I haven't lost all of my hard-earned arm muscles. More later—as well as photos, of course.