I had a pretty short turnaround from our 4th of July week and my business trip to Monterey, hence the delay in posting the pics from our time up on the rim. The
previous week, I scouted out on bike an isolated area off of the eastern portion of the cabin loop trail where we could pitch camp, be isolated from the hoards of idiots lacking any respect for peace and quit, and be close to a fresh water source. The recee trip was worth it.
After setting up camp and kitting out my bike with the requisite refreshments, I promptly saddled up and rode out to the spring to filter some water and to introduce the family to our new neighborhood for the next few days.
....
Judging by their initial reaction, I think I did OK...one note to the Mrs' beverage choice....."
Mic-Ultra".....
really?
For every
wild rose that I found the week prior, there were 10 more blooming along the spring....
The wild strawberries were starting to come out as well....we ate two, and left the rest for the birds.....
Or frogs.....
The glassy surface of the water reflecting the angled bedding surface of the Coconino Sandstone proved too irresistible for just one picture....
Or for a German Shepherd dog named Stella Blue.
.....
....or for that matter, a normally water and camera shy Swedish Vallhund named Graham
.
Noting the growing thunder-bumpers in the sky above and the darkening of the path home, we turned around to avoid the coming deluge.....
Mo Nature did not disappoint....
This cycle repeated itself each day, with refreshments taken with a wonderful pairing of the sound of rain, smell of ozone and a good read underneath the day shelter.
.....just because we shit in the woods, does not mean we have to drink PBR.
Stella Blue, however, took no part in these daily rituals due to a hatred of rain and thunder....so she beat a hasty retreat each afternoon to the tent vestibule where I had built her a bed of fresh pine needles to avoid the tracked mud and Wookie like odor caused by a wet dog in my tent.
Some afternoons, I did not feel like filtering water, so I applied the lazy mans technique.
In typical high-country fashion, the rain stuck around for a few hours and moved on down into the sweltering heat of the low deserts to delight and tease the parched city folk. We, were left with cold temps and tired dogs.
Mornings were clear and halcyon with the sound of my stove the only man made interruption amongst the wild turkey calls in the canyon to our east and the coyotes in the canyon to the west.
When I look back at it, I rode every day; with no goal other than to ride, drink and eat. Personal bests were not challenged, and complications were avoided. Lately I've become so fixated at getting miles in that I've nearly forgotten to seek daily, the inner peace which has forced itself upon me at this place. If my sense of complacency and relaxation during this trip could be summed up by one picture, it would be this.
