72 is good

I had the best birthday I’ve had in years this year. It was a peak experience in more than one sense of the term. So I’ll start there.

I knew I’d be on the road for my birthday, which meant spending it alone. Which has happened before and is in general just fine with me, but I did give some thought to making it just a bit special. Didn’t know just where I’d be, and weather and fire changed my vague plans after getting on the road, but it worked out for me to spend two nights in one spot in Hells Canyon, which was one of my goals. Having been born and raised in Idaho and Oregon, I’ve heard/known about Hells Canyon all my life, and my first year of teaching was in a town practically on its border as the crow flies. Nonetheless, I had never been there and knew nothing about its terrain, other than that it’s rugged. So, four days into the rip I headed up (and up and up) to a small campground that turned out to be way nicer than I expected. It got cooler and nicer (and bumpier–about 11 miles of gravel, most of it washboarded) as we climbed. Here are a few pictured from the trip up.

Those represent fairly well what I expected to see at the CG. However, those expectations were modified by such scenes as these.

I also hadn’t absorbed the information on how high the CG would be; it’s around 8,000 ft. (2,438 meters for anyone to whom that is more interpretable.)

The CG was in mature forest, and a bit hilly, but I got what I decided later was the best site in it. Nice and level, close to the toilet.

Only 1-2 other sites were occupied over the two days I spent time there, always out of sight from mine (us primitive-area campers are like that–we space ourselves out.) I let the critters out, set up, and headed out to explore the area a bit. Met a young couple along the way who alerted me to the presence nearby of a small lake, so went looking for it. (That picture may have been taken after visiting the lake, by the looks of Scamp.)

Pictures of the lake from that evening.

I had to force myself to stop taking pictures, because I knew they were going to be repetitive, so I sat on a bench that some intelligent and considerate forest service people had built in a perfect viewing spot, and just absorbed the beauty and the silence. As usual, pictures don’t fully capture it.

That evening, a guy about my age, also solo, invited me to come share his campfire, so I did. One of the pleasures of this style of travel for me is talking with people I’d never otherwise meet. It’s always interesting to compare our rigs, what we like about them, what doesn’t work as well, etc. In this case, I learned quite a bit about him. He’s devoting more of his time to the road than I do, and doing it on a more limited budget. He seemed to be looking for the perfect place to move to; he’s tired of the Montana winters where he lives now. We both enjoyed the conversation; however, one of the benefits of these encounters, and one I suspect makes us likely to be more open and share more honestly, is the fact that they are no-strings-attached. He moved on the next morning as planned, leaving before I emerged from the van.

Still enthralled by the lake, and wanting to catch the morning light on the mountain, I headed over there carrying my morning tea.

Some considerate and intelligent Forest Service people as some point put this bench in a spot with a perfect view of the lake, so I sat there and watched the sun light up the mountains and the lake.

Again I had to make myself stop. Those are only a selection of what I took.

Hadn’t intended to throw sticks into the water for Scamp because it was rather chilly, but she had other ideas. Since the videos are included in my previous post, only stills here.

A good way to start one’s birthday.

The road to the CG keeps going–and climbing–another two miles or so. The campfire gentleman had driven up the afternoon before, so I asked him if it was worth it, and he encouraged me to do it. He said there’s climb from the parking lot up to a lookout he hadn’t done but that looked worth doing also. I had thought about trying to walk the two miles as a walk with Scamp, but decided to drive up instead and tackle the climb. So after breakfast I got the van ready to move, and called to Scamp–and nothing. She laid down about 50 feet away and just looked at me. She LIKED that spot, and saw no reason to leave it. (She did that several times during the trip, but so far I’ve gotten her to come along.) Not even getting in the van and driving away persuaded her to change her mind, so since it was just a morning trip, I eventually just left her there.

From the parking lot:

Parked the van, changed into my hiking sandals (a wise decision), grabbed my hiking stick (also wise) and headed up. It was . . . arduous. Remember, this was well over 8,000 feet, and I live near sea level these days. But with several stops to rest and breathe, and soaking up the view, and taking the odd picture or two, I made it.

On the way up (or down–I’m not sure about some of them.)

Took a couple more when I got to the top, but then the lookout keeper invited me to go up into the lookout, so I did and took a bunch from up there. 

I should have said “one of the lookout keepers” above, because it was being tended by a retired couple. I enjoyed visiting with them. I had been panting rather a lot when I arrived, and said something about it being quite a climb; the husband kept saying things like “It’s nothing” or “a piece of cake”. They did the walk every day; I finally tumbled and said to his wife “he just says that as a brag because he does it every day!” She laughed and agreed. I was still pleased and a bit proud that at 72, I could do it, though humbled by the thought that they do indeed do it every day for several months at a time. I think they were very close to my age.

Regardless, the fact that I did that climb on my 72nd birthday is now enshrined in their 2019 visitor’s log, which I signed at their request.

After visiting and taking pictures for 20-30 minutes, it seemed time to head back down to the van. Which was way down there.

Actually, I think I took that one somewhere on the way down. In any case, the hike back down was not as arduous as the hike up.

Before starting down, I took a few more pictures.

When I got back to camp, Scamp, the scamp, was waiting there and happy to see me. But not worried. I’d almost feel better if she had been worried, since it might encourage her to be more compliant about getting into the van when it’s time to go. Instead, she did the same trick–lying down and observing me from afar–several more times on the trip when it was time to go. People keep telling me how smart Aussies are; that’s not always a good thing. She definitely learned to recognize the signs of when I was breaking camp and knew it meant we would be leaving. Which she frequently saw no good reason to do. I, however, still having some brain left, found several ways of outwitting her, so she’s still with me.

Having anticipated my birthday and wanting to include a celebratory meal of some kind, while not creating too much stress, I had figured out I could make a one-pot meal from pasta with sauce, and had brought the makings with me. I was feeling tired but good when I got back, so felt ready to tackle actual cooking (which as y’all know I almost never do, especially when camping). Here’s everything laid out ready to cook. As you can see, I decided to further celebrate by having wine with lunch, which I also almost never do.

Here’s it is ready to eat.

Ok, that’s enough food pics. It was as easy to put together as anticipated or perhaps even easier, and even the clean-up wasn’t hard. Part of the beauty of this meal is you can just eat it from the pot so there’s less to clean. Definitely a strategy to remember for future trips. I did thoroughly enjoy both food and wine. The weather, which was just about perfect, with no wind to complicate cooking, helped.

After cleaning up, I climbed into the van for a bit of reading and rest. All the critters were running around on their own outside, so I had the van to myself, which is nice every once in awhile.

After awhile a trip to the lake was in order. This time Shadow came along.

Phantom started to come along also (I think that’s him out in front above), but as usual these days gave up and went back to the van. Shadow, however, made it all the way.

I still get a real kick out of getting pictures of the cats out in nature.

Walking back to our site, Scamp tackled this. She wasn’t just chewing on it, she actually tried to shift it.I got the camera out late in the process, but check out the middle of this.

I remember walking around both that afternoon and evening feeling wonderful, marveling over a wonderful day, and wondering what it is about being out in settings like that that produces those feelings, and also feeling very grateful for that time. I even contemplated staying another day, but decided against it–overnight rain was in the offing, and generally those purely wonderful days/experiences/feelings can’t be reproduced or prolonged.

Having been to the lake several times that day, for our evening walk Scamp and I walked up the road into the CG and back. She of course found a stick on the way back. Here she is contemplating the view.

It did indeed rain overnight, but by the time I’d had tea in the morning it was finished, so we took a farewell walk up the road, enjoying the freshness of the air and the cloudscapes.

Farewell views of the peak above the lake, taken from the road.

And one last stick.

Altogether an excellent start to being 72. But that’s not the only reason for the title of this post.

Turning 70 was a big deal, as decade birthdays tend to be. For quite awhile–most of that year, probably–I felt it–old, end-of-an-era, I’m not sure how to describe it. I know that the four years after I retired up until 70 felt like time’s gift–not yet having to deal with anticipating death, or even many of the effects of aging (my health has been good overall), starting new things (getting to know my new home turf, taking major trips, doing some major house projects–or paying for them anyway 🙂), etc. Somewhat like an extended summer vacation as a young adult, only with more money and no supervision at all. Turning 70 made me more aware that this couldn’t last forever and indeed my remaining time is limited. How limited, of course, no one can know. But certainly limited.

71 was mostly a pretty good year, but I was becoming aware of more physical decline (we won’t discuss mental decline, thank you very much.) Then CJ came down with cancer, and I had her put down in February, so not a good time at all. But one of the things I became aware of up in those mountains was that I have regained physical stamina to a noticeable degree, and also a degree of mental alertness. For which I think raising Scamp gets much if not most of the credit. I’ve had to be a lot more active since acquiring her, and it showed up there.

Since CJ was diagnosed with the cancer, I had been struggling with low-grade depression, and hadn’t had as many “life is good” sorts of days. Some, but certainly not as many as before. (Our national political situation contributes to that, but that’s all I’ll say about that here.) I’d been enjoying the trip up to that point, but my time up there in Hell’s Canyon was special, a real gift. (Being out of range of the internet probably helped.) It has left me feeling that I’ve entered a new, positive window of time in my life. My physical stamina remains good (for me, for 72), much of the rest of the September trip was excellent, Scamp is growing up to be a really nice dog who can cope with lying around being bored and doesn’t have to be entertained all the time, and the awning on the van seems to be returned to a working status (more on that in a future post.) 72 is good. So far, anyway 🙂.