Finished Packing

All except for the electronics. I am not taking the laptop, so we’ll see how that goes.  I might go nuts or I might come home and think, “You know… It’s been nice not being connected…You know, I like the quiet, the time, the nothing…”  (stay tuned.)

I am anxious to feel mountain-y again.  What is “mountain-y”?

Mountainy is when you stride through Safeway in your boots and you still have the long, steady rhythm of your hike.

Mountainy is when you pass someone on the trail and say, “Howdy” instead of “Hi” or “Hello.”

Mountainy is feeling dog-tired at the end of the day in the body, but all clean and clear and lit up inside.

Mountainy is when the crunch of gravel under your boots and the warm dry smell of juniper take up all the space in your mind and there is no space left for worrying or fretting or obsessive chewing.

Mountainy is cool blue skies and warm gray rocks and birds with songs that you’ve never heard before.

Mountainy is tiny alpine wild flowers, and marmots, and prairie dogs and the glow of a orange you take out of your pack and wonder at before you eat it.

But most of all mountainy is really, really quiet…

This could be the last post for a week, or I could manage to post from the road.  We’ll see how it goes.  We’ll see how mountainy I get…

See ya!

Cleaning and Packing

Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be able to just teleport myself to California and not have to pack!  How I hate packing.  I don’t mind flying or airports or TSA security screens or moving sidewalks or being shuttled from terminal X to terminal Y.

But please god, don’t make me decide between my polar fleece and my wool sweater, my khakis and my jeans, 5 long-sleeved tops and 2 short-sleeved ones or vice versa.  And, btw,  is my little terry bathrobe  a “want” or a “need”?

And then, once I’m packed, I set about neurotically cleaning the house because when I come back home after a week in the beautiful and majestic and inpsiring Sierra Nevada range, I will be seeing everything with “new eyes:”  bigger eyes, more understanding eyes, eyes that  see a things in perspective once again.

And I am going to be changed, I know it–big mountains leave a profound print on my soul such that every one and every thing looks different when my vision has been stretched out over infinite expanses of earth, sky and mountain ranges for days at a time.

What I don’t want, is to come back and feel disgusted with my life.  What I don’t want is to see any of the clutter that I live in most of the time–a clutter that reflects a preoccupied and too busy life sometimes.  I don’t want to come home and cry and pine for CA for days or weeks afterward.

I want to come home to order and neatness and cleanliness. I don’t just want this, however; I need this.

So tomorrow I will make all the hard and final decisions about how many pants, how many shorts, what pajamas and how many pairs of  socks. Then I will clean and organize and tidy the house.

I want the transition back home to be effortless and easy, but most of all, sweet.