June 27, 2022 (part 2)

i unzipped my tent and peered out to a gloomy, sunless day. The wind was blowing too, of course. Pink mohawk hair man said the ""W" in Wyoming stood for windy. I laid back down, covered my head and tried to muster a plan of action. The last time i had eaten was around four o'clock yesterday, so i needed food. My warm clothes were in the Toyota. It was about 50°.This desert weather is so unpredictable. I gave myself a good talking to as it looked like rain.The thought of getting breakfast going and being rained out midway was not appealing. i unzipped the tent again, took note of the things i would need to put in garbage bags should the skies open and laid back down.

I checked my phone. Battery at 62%..No solar for charging.Okay, i decided, I'll leave it off until this evening and I'll have it for tonight when I'm back in here. I rose determined, dashed for my clothes and quickly dressed. I looked down at my ensemble and ruffled my cropped hair. Who is this person wearing these mismatched clothes with a hack job of a haircut? I've gotten to the point whenever i see cotton or mostly cotton clothes on the sale rack, i buy them. Three dollar pants, toss them in the cart. I used to shop by patterns, style and color. Now i ran my hands around the sale racks feeling for anything resembling cotton.

Living this disposable life makes me sick to my stomach, but this is the way it is for everyone at this stage of the game. "Intensification" they call it. There's a whole dictionary of terms for the thousands of us. Wear it for a week or for however long you can, and toss it. When it's warm, i wear cotton boxers and mens t-shirts. They come in packages of six. There is no such thing as doing laundry. Nothing will get these toxins we sweat out or pick up out in the world. It's universal to us all. Eventually, yes. But for now, this is it.

And Besides, there's no water in these remote, pristine areas we seek out. Whatever works cheaply is the route we go. So i live with the guilt and hope to survive. Today, i looked like a pieced together patchwork quilt.

Hurriedly, i chopped apples and almonds and gathered the berries from my cooler. Then i disposed of any food signs attempting to keep this site as creature free as possible. The flame from my propane stove put out enough heat to warm me which was a welcomed surprise. I carried the pot of oatmeal to the grass, scouted for cacti, and sat to eat. The warm meal rejuvenated me enough to carry out my next order of business. I walked out on the mile drive and when i turned back turned back, i spotted an unusually large white flower from a distance and curiosity sent me traipsing across the open plain. It had not quite completed its unfolding. I gingerly plucked away the green, spiny husk to reveal the crepe like ruffles of a wild poppy. What a delight! A small insect had already taken up residence here. My, what this desert has to offer!

About a week before i was forced to abandon my little metal house, i received a package i had ordered containing hundreds of poppy seeds. I had visions of them popping up all across the field knowing my husband would enjoy them from where he remained, in the house that made me sick. Those seeds were never sown.

"You can not heal in the place that made you sick."

This is the first valuable, financial, health driven piece of knowledge i wish i could have conveyed. For if we had taken heed, we would not be where we are now. But, his reasons were valid.At that juncture, It made sense monetarily. Now i'm more knowledgeable and know many mold-lyme sick people can't even remain in the same region. I fear this is me. I won't know the answer to this until i have healed a great deal.

Nearing camp, i kept wondering if i could get a signal from the top of the ridge. If i were to climb this everyday, which was my intention, i could get my exercise, check my mail and make posts. So i stuffed a water bottle into my ugly cotton coat and grabbed my walking stick and made it to the top. I'm not one to take breaks, so i breathlessly ploughed through...a leftover from my cross country days, perhaps or wanting to rush and finish up hauling firewood across that swinging bridge.

I stopped at the top, studied a rock that was perched on another rock fitting like a puzzle piece and sat down only to have the rock tumble forth and slide, taking me with it. My legs buckled, shifting me forward. I rolled off to the side and still panting from the climb stared down into the place i could have ended up. A surge of sweat coursed through me. In a daze, i realized i needed to slow down and had been given another chance with a lesson well learned. Oh lordy, that rock was too big for me to dislodge, was it not?

Apparently, i was mistaken.I surveyed the scene. My back took a hit, but my walking stick was a loss...broken like a toothpick, in 3 pieces. Damn, now i would need another.Just last night, i was using a pumice stone to even out the course dry skin on my heels when i took note of my trusty stick with it protrusions jutting sharply like potential daggers. I had taken this moment for my feet. I will take the next few for my safety. I noticed my shovel had a sawtooth edge so i worked the shovel back and forth taking off the larger chunks and came back with the pumice stone sanding away the sharp edges. I was pleased with my work. I guess we bonded over that moment. And now, another trial. I felt a loss akin to Tom Hanks' pal "Wilson" in the film "Castaway."

So much of this journey is overwhelming. I get ahead of myself with doom, considering winter and what will i do, where will i go? And just now, I'm worried about where i will find another stick, when the here and now is where my focus should be. Like for instance, how am i going to get back off of this peak without my stick and wearing only these Chaco's on my feet? I took a deep breath and checked my phone. No signal and a slow descent back to camp making calculated switchbacks. Feeling slightly deflated, i rest having returned to my temporary yard. The clouds part and the sun shines. I remove my ugly jacket and hook up my solar charger to record these events. I slept well. I did not perish beneath a loose boulder.My lungs are strong. My legs are stronger, still and I'll procure another walking stick. Perhaps on the morrow. For now, I'll give this back a rest as i watch these enormous dandelions open up from their deep cloudy sleep...revealing their feathery poms to the skies.