“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that
you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines.
Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails.
Explore. Dream. Discover.”
~
Just this morning I awoke from a beautiful dream. I dreamed that my wife, Gina, and I, loaded our four cats and a coon dog in a 37' motor home and set off on an amazing adventure that spanned 5 months, 9 states, and nearly 8,000 miles.
In this dream, we headed south through Kansas, Oklahoma, and Texas. We had an amazing time with friends in Dallas, Texas (apparently I used to live there), then eased on down to Killeen to see Gina's uncle. (Seems a little fuzzy now, but I guess he's some kind of decorated war hero). From there we met an old friend in San Antonio and then actually stayed at an RV resort near Padre Island where we soaked in the pool and hot tub, and had drinks by the ocean. I even swam in the Gulf of Mexico! It was freezing!
From there the dream led me west where Gina and I stayed in a dusty old biker camp ground from where we toured Big Bend National Park. Then we eased up north a bit where we fell in love with a place called Davis Mountain State Park. It was all so beautiful in my dream. Seems we even had to stay longer because of an ice storm. While there, we even attended a star party at the famous McDonald Observatory and learned about the constellations of the Northern Hemisphere.
In this dream, it seems we were reminded we left Nebraska to escape the cold, so we left the Davis Mountains of West Texas and headed for Arizona after a short stop in New Mexico. While in the heart of the desert southwest, we saw places like Tuscon and Apache Junction. We spent amazing time with dear friends in Mesa and had drinks on a lovely outdoor patio. We left there to make a pit stop in Yuma where we met the first of new lifelong friends. (Dreams are funny, aren't they)?
In this dream, so it seems, we were so close to California that it seemed silly to miss Joshua Tree National Park. So away we went to explore unique foliage and wonder at the mesmerizing rock formations. We even shared space with "our people" at a Saturday flea market.
The dream turned dark as we were led to a place called Quartzite. It was a sad, dark place and I was nearly awakened by the poverty, dry air, and wind. But the Sandman kept me down and I was able to explore beautiful native culture and milky quartz mountains outside the area, all with my amazing bride by my side.
Once released from the darkness, we ventured in this dream to places of wonder like Sedona, where we stayed with people like us in the red rock hills. I could see petroglyphs and ancient dwellings, gorgeous rock formations that had vortexes, and so much more. In my dream, it was such a magical place with SO many people. We even visited a place in the dream called Amitabha Stupa. It felt so magical.
The next place I recall from the dream was the most wondrous of all. The views took our breath away and it felt like we could fly as we looked out over the astonishing expanse of the Grand Canyon. There was wildlife like elk, wild horses, and ravens. And the sunsets were difficult to describe. I'm almost positive I must have awakened Gina with my tossing and turning as I tried to process the vivid nature of my dream.
The next scene from the dream was Utah and seeing very dear old friends for dinner and drinks. Not only that, it seems we met a new family that will be with us forever. I can still see wind caves and formations and a place called Lone Rock. I even seemed to get to take pictures from a trip Gina arranged.
The next stop in the dream was New Mexico and places like Sante Fe and Albuquerque. From there it was Colorado to see family, and then on to Nebraska to see more family and then... POOF!!! I was awake.
But it wasn't a dream, was it? My wonderful bride, Gina, and I, truly did take the trip of a lifetime. We stayed in more amazing places than you can imagine. We have incredible friends in Dallas. Thank you to all who spent time with us. Gina's uncle truly is a decorated, retired Lt. Colonel from Korea and Vietnam and it was amazing to hang with him and his daughters. We really did go to the beach and we really did swim in the ocean. And at 65, perhaps for the last time.
We saw stars like you scarcely get to see, met amazing people, some of who are now lifelong friends, and many who we'll likely never see again. People like us, just trying to squeeze it all in while we can. We love you all and special thanks to Chuck and Tyler for taking a risk, to Tammy and Eric for sharing the road with us, to Lilly and Carl for being soul family, and to many others we met along the way.
We truly did visit and hike most of the vortex rock formations of Sedona and we prayed before the Amitabha Stupa. We peered into the abyss that is the Grand Canyon and wondered at the site of Horseshoe Bend. We meditated on the rim of the canyon and I'm teaching myself the native flute. We hung with our Hippie peeps in California, Sante Fe, and Albuquerque and we soaked in all the native culture we could muster. Even our tour guide for my Waterhole Canyon photography birthday present was Dine (Navajo).
We gazed out over the dry expanse that was once Lake Powell and hiked to Lone Rock; a place you could once only reach by boat. We learned about the history of places like Lake Powell and Glen Canyon. We cried at the realities of places like Hoover Dam and Lake Mead.
We shared an amazing anniversary with Gina's family and then spent a week at the ranch with the grand kids. And then we were home. There is so very much more to this entire trip that is simply beyond the scope of what I care to write. It was magical. And it was the epitome of why people need to leave their town, state, and/or country, even for a bit.
We came back to a place that hasn't changed. Our house is the same. The farmers are still poisoning their crops and over-watering, while the nearby town struggles for drinking water. The locals still mostly worship a sad little excuse for a man and call him president. The buildings look the same. The people are the same. The routines are the same. The heaviness of not being where we belong amongst our true people is the same. Nothing has changed, save one thing...us. WE have changed.
We use our water like we only have 100 gallons to last a week. We use far fewer lights and we shower less. We don't spend our evenings in front of the television. Instead, we read or play rummy, just the way we did for 5 glorious months. Just the two of us in our own little world.
We're more acutely aware of the tragedies befallen our native brothers, murdered to the tune of over 50 million, while indigenous peoples continue to disappear without a trace, all while the lesser-aware stomp their feet about immigration while standing on land their ancestors colonized. And in general, we're simply more in tune to the racism, bigotry, and misogyny that grows like a cancer throughout our land.
And we are most certainly more in tune with the irresponsible and wasteful nature of so many people who share this amazing planet. We saw large quantities of trash in some of the most sacred of places. And most of all, we're beyond cognizant of the fact that our nation is about to get really thirsty. The southwest is in millennial drought stage. Both Lake Mead and Lake Powell are within weeks of Dead Pool, where they won't be able to produce reasonably priced power. And thanks to irresponsible irrigation of alfalfa owned by foreign interests, it won't be long before people will be going to war over water to drink.
Some would say I'm too alarmist. Check with me again when your tap only drips. You aren't alarmist enough.
It was 5 months of learning, hiking, absorbing, wondering, and loving. And if I can do it again with my amazing wife and partner, I'll do it tomorrow. You simply have to get in your car or RV and drive. There's so much to see, so much to do, and so much to learn. And it won't be here much longer.
Oh... and aliens are real. They've already come and gone.
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