Once again, I'm looking around my fair Southern city and my cheerful, busy neighborhood today and wondering when we all got picked up Dorothy-style and dropped over the rainbow into the Pacific Northwest. It is raw, wet, and unseasonably cold -- again -- and there are no bikes, trikes, Big Wheels or skateboards afoot outside. We're all hunkered down.
It's been like this now for weeks with few breaks, and I find myself (a) sending big mental hugs to my JCA friends who really ARE in the Pacific Northwest -- and other areas where this is ordinary October weather -- and (b) having to search harder and harder for mood pick-me-uppers. But today I got a great one when I logged into my e-mail with my first cup of coffee: an e-mail (the first of the trip) from our wonderful DS#1, a/k/a Journey Boy, with pictures!
If you don't know who and what I'm talking about, before you read on I suggest you peek back at my post from mid-September about my son's then-impending departure on his dream trip. He's a month in, with about six weeks to go, and he's as happy as a pig in the mud, I'm tellin' ya. Today's e-mail was brisk and jaunty, and his pictures reflect that same delighted attitude. He and his traveling buddy "Moose" (the non-dredlocked guy in the blue shirt in the first picture below -- Moose is so nicknamed because he was born in Canada) are loving what Journey Boy calls "life in the Champagne Beauty" --- their name for the champagne-colored 2007 Dodge Grand Caravan that they're calling home. In the first month of their trip they've camped, climbed, hiked, visited friends and family and generally cavorted their genial way thru the Carolinas, the Virginias, New Jersey and New York, Kentucky, the Badlands and Black Hills of South Dakota, Grand Tetons National Park, Nevada (with a stop in Reno to mail home a box of clothes that, although fresh from the laundromat, smelled magically like my boy!), Salt Lake City, and parts of California, where last week they met up with two other buddies who will be with them for the remainder of their trip.
Journey Boy (left) and Moose.
Journey Boy in his climbing harness.
The Badlands in South Dakota.
Sunrise, somewhere early in their trip -- this one wasn't labeled. But wow.
Moose (left) and JB. With George Washington. (Mount Rushmore -- look carefully at the background. This is your "Where's Waldo?" picture of the day. )
I can't look at this picture without grinning and without thinking about Willie Nelson's classic lyrics:
I can't look at this picture without grinning and without thinking about Willie Nelson's classic lyrics:
On the road again,
Goin’ places that I’ve never been.
Seein’ things that I may never see again,
And I can’t wait to get on the road again.
On the road again,
Like a band of gypsies we go down the highway.
We’re the best of friends,
Insisting that the world keep turning our way.
And our way is
The Black Hills of South Dakota. D'ya see those granite peaks (probably "the Needles" but we're not certain) in the background? I'm betting that my son did a bit of dangling there.
Here's my boy in the burgundy sweatshirt, just getting started on the ascent of a bouldering "problem" (that's kinda like "route" or "as-yet unconquered piece of giant rockface" to the rest of us non-climbers). He's standing in front of Moose and I think that's their other two pals Nate and Tommy who are watching.
As his brother would say, Sweeeeeet.
I can't say that the worry and anxiety I wore so heavily when I wrote that September post have miraculously vanished, girls. They're still there and I think about my dear faraway child constantly. But I've managed with surprising success to back-burner almost all thoughts of him dangling 40 feet up, driving at 2:00 a.m., camping with nearby bears (and without what I would personally consider adequately waterproof boots, but then I'm kinda wussy about that kind of thing).
And the reason I'm able to back-burner these scary, worrisome visions is really simple: There is not a doubt in my mind that he has never been quite so contented -- and he's generally a contented person, so I'm saying a lot here. Last week he called for a quick chat while he stood outside a laundromat waiting for his clothes to dry. He told me that one night, after a nice day hike, he and Moose had camped on the shore of a lake in Grand Tetons National Park. He had woken up at dawn feeling really cold and unable to go back to sleep. So he'd opened the tent flap, intending to make a fire and start some coffee, and he'd discovered an overnight snowfall. Instead of making the fire right away, he bundled up, tiptoed out of the tent and sat, alone, on the shore watching the sun come up over the mountains, listening to the trickle of water and the sounds of birds and little woodland creatures awakening. Later in the morning he and Moose hiked back out thru all that fresh fluffy stuff. A few pictures from that lovely day:
Moose, enjoying the same view his traveling pal had enjoyed earlier in the morning.
Brrr. But again, wow.
No matter how cold your face may be, you just cannot contain a grin that comes all the way up from your frozen toes.
I sure do. Awesome.
