As I’m writing this it’s Thursday morning and I’m facing the prospect of packing up in the rain. Even as I sit here I can feel the temperature dropping. The weather has been pretty much crap since I left two days ago. Yesterday I got soaked on a bike ride on Madeline Island, but more on that in the next post.

My little camper has served me well but I get tired of setting it up and taking it down, especially in the rain. It makes me long for a little travel trailer that I can just hitch up, raise the stabilizers, and go. (You were right, Nate)

Copper Falls is a very nice State Park and Campground. It’s thick forest, the campsites are very private, and there’s plenty of good hiking and biking trails. Mellen is a sleepy little place carved out of the woods, with a lumber mill, two gas stations, and two bars. The only downside is if you don’t  like to be off the cell grid.

If you come camping into this area I can also attest to how nice Amnicon Falls Campground is just east of the town of Superior. I camped there in a previous life, before anyone even thought about being on the grid or off the grid. My guess is that it’s proximity to Superior means you could still obsess about your cell phone. 🙂

I’m moving on to hang with the Yoopers for a couple of days and then in to Ontario. I have a wet camper, a clammy sleeping bag and pillow, a bunch of wet clothes, and I haven’t been able to even think about a campfire. I need some of those sunny, breezy fall days.

Ok, sorry, enough whining. I’m hoping for better weather ahead.  I know this post is kinda boring but I have to get my posting legs under me again.  I’ll try to do better.

Here we are back in my dining room, otherwise known as the launch pad.

One of the blessings of retirement is being able to do some of those things you’ve thought about doing for a long time, waiting to have the time.  Of course once out of excuses you actually have to start doing them.  This is important because all of those things aren’t necessarily just the fun things.  Some of them are tasks that are tedious, time consuming, and in some cases involve spending money.

One of the things I’ve discovered about retirement is once you don’t have the routines of discipline like going to work, task fulfillment and various obligations while there, etc., the self starter in you still has to find itself.  And sometimes it pretends to be a little blind.  But I digress.

So why is our wanderer writing a blog after months of silence?

One of the trips I’ve long thought about doing is circumnavigating Lake Superior, so it’s time to hitch up the camper, hit the road, and do some blogging again for a couple of weeks.  I’ve never been on the road from Sault St. Marie around to Thunder Bay, so that part of the trip will be a complete new adventure.

So for my faithful followers out there, I plan to go back over my history of comments, try to remember as best I can the many people who have graced me with their comments in conversations that we’ve had over the summer, and reach out.  It seems rather daunting, but I’ll do my best.  If I miss someone, maybe word of mouth will find you.

In the meantime, I am well and hope you all are too.

Yup, I’m back in MN safe and sound.  Well safe anyway.  And sitting at the table where this all started.  I went to morning Mass this morning to give thanks.  Not only for safe journeys, but a very trouble free trip as well.

I don’t know how many of you are still out there but the answer to the question, “what about the blog?”, is I don’t know.  I’ll certainly have other travels, and will plan on chronicling them, but what to do in the meantime, if anything, I just don’t know.

So for now, I want to thank everyone again for following along and giving me such encouragement.  It is a blessing beyond description.

love you all,

e

As you approach the Great Sand Dunes from the south you can tell that they are pushed up against the mountains.  Those are the Sangre de Christo Mountains in the background.  On Saturday when I went up to Westcliffe I was on the other side of them in the next valley to the east.

It’s hard to envision how large the dune field is without being there but I learned, as large as it is, the dune field is about 11% of an ecosystem that includes the mountains, the dunes, and wetlands, and the water that flows through them.

I did not opt for the wet feet hike over to the dunes.  This is Medano Creek.  It and Sand Creek flow down out of the Sangre de Christos on each side of the dune field eventually dissipating into an aquifer and emerging on the surface once again down valley from the dune fields as a giant wetlands.  Geologists agree that the sand originally washed down out of the San Juan Mountains, which are across the valley, and were pushed up against the Sangre de Christo Mountains by prevailing SE winds.  They also agree that the dune fields are not appreciably growing in volume but are recycled and reshaped by wind and water.

Yesterday was my last day trip.  Although I’m anxious to see my kids it was a melancholy day.  This morning, it’s one more cup of coffee, and then pack up and wander out onto the plains.

I feel bad for this church here in Trinidad, Most Holy Trinity. I got to the church with time to spare only to find an empty block and a sign on the church door. Church Closed. All Masses will be held at Sabastianni Gym.

Their ceiling and roof condition make the church uninhabitable. And in order to affect the necessary repairs, foundational and structural work is required. This parish is in a real fix. There is hope for some grant money from the State Historical Fund. They need money and prayers.

Mass in the Gym was fine.

Ok, big gear change.

I’m most likely am at my last campsite. At least it’s the last of the sites with several nights stay. Tomorrow I’m going up to see The Great Sand Dunes National Park near Alamosa. It’s about an hour and a half away but will be worth the trip. And I’ll be staring at mountains all day. Which is important because the next day those mountains will be in my rearview and quickly fade. I’ll be heading out on to the plains of Kansas, east, then northeast, then north.

I’m feeling nervous about being home. Mostly I’m feeling nervous about suddenly being in one place. My campsite stays have mostly ranged from 2 to 6 days. That’s a lot of motion over three and a half months coming to a sudden stop.

To be fair, getting home means questions to be answered. But I feel ok about what they are and my discernment of that. I’ve been exploring constantly for several months. I need to redefine exploring. Simple right? If that sounds like a dodge I’m sorry. That’s all you get for now.

Saturday I took some back roads up to Westcliffe. Why Westcliffe? Because I knew if I drove up that valley I’d have mountains on all sides of me. (see previous mountain lament)

It was a good relaxing day of truck exploring with a nice burger and beer at The Rode House. Of course it was called The Rode House. And it is Rode not Road. I didn’t ask.

Ok, so this last picture requires some splainin’.  This is near the historic mining town of Cokedale, and these are coal ovens.  The impurities were burned off the coal prior to being shipped to a steel plant in Pueblo.  Rail cars took mined coal onto these long terraces of ovens, burned off non coal stuff, and hauled it out.  There are massive piles in this area of whatever came out of those ovens.  Spooky.

On Friday I had a very familiar and favorite drive, the road between Taos and Raton, NM.  Trinidad, CO is right over the ridge line, and the CO/NM border, from Raton.

A long steady climb up Taos Canyon to the east takes you into a gigantic mountain valley with Angel Fire Ski Area at one end and Eagle Nest, NM at the other.

Besides numerous short stops to just get out of the truck and look and listen, I made two longer stops, one intentional the other impromptu.  Both are different kinds of silent stories.

When I was traveling through here regularly I remember that there were already signs about a Viet Nam Memorial.  Turns out my memory was good (this time), but what is here today is very different from what it was back then.

In 1982, a local Dr. built a chapel on this site as a memorial to his son and 12 other servicemen, and one service woman, who all died in the same battle in Viet Nam in May of 1968.  Over the years, with the Doc’s passing, the family turned the site over to the DAV with blessings for a new plan for the site.

The new site flows through a terrace area, down through and amphitheater, and to a chapel that kinda soars both inside and out.  The whole site overlooks the valley.  This was an emotional stop.

Angel Fire is one of the towns that went from ski area to town.  The towns of Eagle Nest and Cimarron look just like they did 30 years ago.  Maybe a few more people live up here now, but not many more.  A great day on the road.  Only a handful left now.

I was blessed with one good bike riding day in Taos before I left.  I shot some pictures, most of which didn’t fascinate me much.  But it was the first day of hot sun, and no wind.

The first thing I noticed about Taos while riding into town was it is overrun with prairie dogs.  Yup, I know.  I queried the girls at the coffee shop.  And, touched one of the town nerves.  Long story, short, the town is polarized by prairie dog huggers and the, … “they’re rodents!  No, they are not nearly extinct, go to South Dakota!”, crowd.

The second thing about Taos is alleys are not actual alleys.  They are retail strolls loaded with creative ways to make a retail space out of almost nothing.  You can see this in Taos, ……

But you can see this right in town as well.

And, the obligatory shot of Kit Carson’s House.  It’s funny reading the stuff about Kit Carson down here in NM.  SE Colorado and western Kansas are full of Kit Carson stuff as well.  Each place emphasizes the lore of Kit Carson in that area.  I saw no mention at all here about The Pony Express for example.

Trinidad, CO is next, then home.

My time in Taos has been sublime.  If I’m repeating myself I apologize.  I was in this area routinely in the 80s, but in to visit accounts, and then on to somewhere else.  Never to just explore.  The day I went to Bandelier I took the old Sante Fe road down to Espnola.  I went to the Picuris Pueblo.  You can’t do photos there but I saw the Buffs on the road in.

I explored a high mountain valley at 7000 ft. that took me through the towns of Holman, Cleveland, and Mora, NM.  I took pictures of stuff that seemed interesting to me.  These towns are full of silent stories but there are people who live up here and forge a life.

There are many traditional pueblos in the mountains and valleys that surround Taos, Espanola, and Santa Fe.  Some are on historic registries with people still living in traditional ways.  The Taos Pueblo is one of the more famous and is on the National Historic Register.  It is a living museum.  It has ceremonial kivas under it that no non-tribal member has ever seen.

There are “about a dozen or so” people who still live in the pueblo in the old ways.  They are the Red Willow Tribe.  There is no electricity and this is the only running water, Red Willow Creek.  It has been the water source for this pueblo for hundreds of years and it joins the Rio Grande not far from here.

This is St. Jerome’s Church.  It is not a diocesan church but is completely supported by the tribe.  The Pastor from Our Lady of Guadalupe in Taos comes and does Mass early Sunday mornings.  This building has been moved and restored by the tribe  so it’s much older than it looks.

A commemorative?!

Nah.