Thursday, September 30, 2010

Picnic Cleanup

As I approach the picnic area I begin to look around for signs of how these people have spent their time. There are bits of brightly colored candy wrappers that indicate children. What appear to be corn husks lie in the grass like bits of parchment. The grill is full of ashes and unburned charcoal squares. The grill has a faint smell of meat. Under the table is a plastic fork. Next to the tree is a butterfly looking twist top that I believe came from a sugary drink. Strewn about and forgotten are empty soda cans and beer cans. Occasionally there is some forgotten fishing line. All of this is evidence of time well spent with the family. It would have been even better spent had the adults taken the opportunity to teach the children stewardship by cleaning their picnic space better before leaving. The concept of ‘Leave no Trace’ has been completely lost on many of these users.

I drive away from the scene with a bucket of recycling and a garbage can brimming with ashes and trash. The picnic area is ready for the next onslaught of summer afternoon revelers.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010


From May to September home has been a very narrow canyon.  The thin slice in the limestone lends itself to some great climbing—the reason we live here.
One drawback of a slot canyon is we completely miss sun sets; at least sunsets like over the plains experienced in Denver.  From Denver, the sun hangs endlessly on the horizon with reds, yellows and purple shades.  From the canyon sunsets are much less dramatic.  The sun simply disappears behind the trees.  A few hours after dipping behind the narrow horizon the light in the canyon will turn red momentarily then quickly shift to gray tones and gone.

It has just dawned on me that I miss the sunsets.  As we approach the end of canyon time I look forward to seeing an extending sunset of brilliant reds, oranges and purple reflected off the clouds off in the horizon.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Car seat anti-heater

I'm using Blu's seat cooling feature as I write this.

I never really knew my butt was hot while sitting in an air conditioned car; much less notice three seperate setable levels of too warm/cool. Now that I have micro streams of super cooled air spraying on my bum, I know that the previous chapters in my life have been less fulfilling than the future ones will be.

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Thursday, September 9, 2010


It was 28 degrees this morning.  The capper is that our site doesn’t get visited by the sun until circa 10:00.  It has been starting to cool down but this was quick cut from cool to f#%&!*g cold. 

As the insightful Charles De Mar said, “Buck-up little camper!”

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Losing Track of Time

We officially began our journey of life on the road on May 19, 2010. It has taken three months for us to completely unwind and relax. Finally, we have the glorious issue of losing track of the day, date and time. As a camp host, one should know the date so campers can date their checks and payment envelopes appropriately. However, it is increasingly common for us to rely on the park users to tell us the date. We are sleeping later and using it as an excuse to make an extra pot of coffee.

What day is it?
You sure?
Not really.

What is the date today?
I have no idea. Check the camper's envelopes; someone is sure to have it right.

Wow! It's 6:30pm!
Really? I have no concept of what time it is. If you would have asked me, I would have said it was 4:30.

What time is it?
Oh boy. I haven’t slept that late in years! I was pretty sure it was only 8:00am.