Silly me. I forgot to upload my video of the last National Park I visited before heading to South Dakota. One of my favorites .

Enjoy!

Arriving in Denver was the demarcation point between Phase 1 of my scenic tour through the National Parks and my gentle glide into my home state of South Dakota and visiting relatives along my path to get there. I feel like I am going through a sort of retrospective, not surprising as my 50th birthday is on the horizon.

Seeing my niece Christina is always great. She is beautiful, inside and out. This was the first time meeting her fiancé, Justin, and I truly enjoyed our conversations and time together.

Justin had to work the next day, and Christina had class in the morning, so instead of going to Rocky Mountain National Park, Christina and decided to go see Body Worlds & The Story of the Heart at the Denver Museum of Nature and Science and then go see Hubble at the IMAX theatre in the same building.

Body Worlds & The Story of the Heart had come to Portland, but for some reason, it didn’t appeal to me to see real human bodies that had been stripped literally to the veins and tendons. But a few months ago a friend had mentioned that she had really been amazed with the exhibition. Christina had heard that as well. So we went.

What an amazing creation our body is! Especially the heart, from which everything else expands. If it is true that we create in our imaginations what happens in our experience, then we are amazing creators of an intricate spiritual machine. If that is the case, just think of all that we can create with even more limitless thinking. Seeing each organ, each capillary, the systems that carry us, that move us, that inspire us. It was truly a fascinating exhibit that made me realize how precious and amazing life is.

And to think that the human body is only one of millions of species of beings operating from a heart, with systems that function in perfect unity. That doesn’t include the oceans of water, the clouds in the sky, and the earth that holds it all in its loving embrace. We have really dreamed ourselves a grand place to be, and an amazing way to be in it.

After leaving Body Worlds, we made our way to the IMAX theatre to view Hubble. Astronauts filmed the movie while they made the final attempt to fix the problems with the Hubble telescope so that scientists could continue to view the far edges of the universe, those other worlds that sometimes seem beyond our imagination, but are brought into our view through an incredible combination of knowledge and technology.

We had moved from the inner exploration of the body to the outer exploration of the universe. The parallels are astounding.

As humans, we are made up of billions of cells that create systems that propel us, support us, keep us alive, forever expanding and changing until the end, when we return to the source of light, an infinite nothingness from which we are created anew. The universe is made up of billions of stars, heavenly bodies that form systems, swirling and morphing, changing and expanding until the end, when the universe collapses into the void of darkness, an infinite nothingness from which it will ultimately be born again.

There are no coincidences in this universe. Everything has a reason, a purpose. We are all stars, made of stars, in a universe of stars.

It was a fascinating experience, and a wonderful stay with Christina and Justin. Next up? Omaha and my sister Linda. I may not blog as frequently for the next month or so. I have some projects to catch up on, and I won’t bore you with my visits with relatives unless I have some aha moments to share. See you soon!

Monday, I was able to get in touch with PayPal and they credited my account while they investigate the charges. Lisa hired me for editing work and paid a retainer, so I visited the Dove Creek bank on my way out of town. As always, things seem to work out, even when we can’t imagine that it will.

No matter what happens in life, there is good in everything if we are just willing to look for it. If I hadn’t had financial trouble with PayPal, I wouldn’t have mentioned anything to Lisa, and I wouldn’t have had the learning I received and the breakthroughs I made. It’s all in how I accept what is happening. When the moment presents less than joy, I ask myself, “How can I expand in positive ways from what just happened? When I do that, when I really look at things from a 360-degree view, the perspective gives new insight and direction and joy returns so much more quickly.

This trip has been an enormous help in teaching me to be in the moment. On a road trip, there are so many possible choices. It’s like the picture in M.A.S.H. where there are road signs with mileages pointing in every direction. Go here. Go there. What to choose? The unknown can be scary, or extremely exhilarating – or both.

There have been so many instances where, really, there is nothing I can do but to breathe, wait a few moments, and allow the next moment to see where I will move next. As I stay in that place of acceptance of what is, I feel myself following my inner knowing with more ease and joy.

I have always operated better on the edge. I understand now that the edge is the moment. Taking a leap of faith is balancing where you are at that edge of acceptance with forward movement into the unknown, trusting that the bridge will come to meet me. I don’t have to worry about finding or building it, or try to control how it is accomplished. The support is there; I just need to create the image of it in my mind and it will be there when I need it.

I left Vista Caballo and traveled north through a beautiful series of canyons and mesas, paralleling the Delores River for a long distance, climbing steadily to Grand Junction. Picking up the Interstate, I headed east toward Denver to visit my niece Christina and her fiancé, Justin for two days.

At Vista Caballo, I finally had a chance to catch up with myself, both physically and emotionally. When I made the final inspection of the Raven Lodge prior to leaving Oregon, as I locked the door for the last time, I looked at the beautiful space that I was fortunate to have lived in, saddened that I had to leave. It was then that my spirit guide whispered in my ear, “If you think this is beautiful, wait until you see what’s coming!”

From that moment until I reached Colorado, I had almost no thought or emotion about having to leave the Lodge. When I realized that fact at Lisa’s ranch, at first I thought that I must be in denial; how could I not have grief? Then, I thought that maybe that had all settled in my body instead and that was why I had gotten sick. But truthfully, neither seemed true for me.

What I began to understand was that I feel a deep trust that everything is happening for a very specific reason. My soul is directing this journey – both my life and this road trip. My spirits are supporting me. This trip has been an opportunity to revisit my path and based on that view, start to look to a new direction. Once I had a chance to catch up and breathe, I could see much more clearly that everything along the road has been a reminder of what I love – and what I’m capable of.

What I hadn’t been able to do because of either weather or being sick was to hike. Lisa’s conversation with me the previous day had spurred my thoughts and hiking is how I work through things. Lisa and Jess encouraged me to explore their land, explaining where the boundaries were, so off I went. Their property rises from their buildings up to a small rise where there is a 360 degree view with three separate mountain ranges: the Ute Mountain range to the southeast; the Abajo range to the west; and the La Sal Mountains to the northwest.

Abajo Mountain Range

La Sal Mountain Range

Ute Mountain Range

I followed the dirt road to the top where Jess is building the third cabin. I stopped at the few ancient piñon pine trees along the way. There are very few trees on the mesa; mostly there is sagebrush and red dirt, great land for range riding. I sat for a few minutes in the space they have created under the trees, but the cold wind was blowing directly at me. I didn’t want to cause a relapse of a cold, so decided to keep moving.

When I reached the cabin I saw why they chose the location. The cabin’s back deck faces the Ute Mountain range, while its front window takes in the La Sals. From the loft you can see the Abajo range. Knowing Jess’s building skills, when this cabin is finished, it will be cozy and beautiful.

After leaving the cabin, I walked for a distance east until I came to a fence line. The spring snow melt had caused their seasonal creek to overflow and I could hear the rush of the water below. I followed the fence line to a corner intersection of three fences and crossed over the east/west line to continue. I was reminded of when I helped my dad build fences on the farm in South Dakota, the corner junctions being critical to the sturdiness of all the lines that emanate from that point. Each fence line disappeared into the distance. Although their end point was unknown to me, I knew that each had a specific and meaningful intention, much like my soul’s journey.

I found a place to cross without having to climb over the barbed wire, and within a few feet I looked down to see Lisa and Jess’s dog chewing on something and realized it was the horns of a very large animal. At first I thought it was an elk, but on closer inspection, it was a deer. I’m not a hunter, so don’t know how many points the rack was, but it was intact and whole, including the skull. In fact, the entire skeleton was there. I had hoped to find a full rack for years, so I hoisted it onto my back, the skull resting on my shoulders and the rack encompassing my head.

Deer Rack and Skull

I picked up the sound of the rushing water again and began to follow it back to the ranch. As I came over the rise, I saw the sun begin to set on the Abajo range, in colors of purple, orange, and pink, a beautiful backdrop to the ranch buildings. It was in that moment that I had a huge insight.

Vista Caballo Sunset

That morning, Lisa had come to me and said she had a realization after our conversation about prosperity. I had shared with her my belief that prosperity is a measurement; abundance is a mindset. I feel truly abundant in my life, despite not always being financially prosperous. My ego wants to focus on the prosperity, my soul on the abundance. There is a huge misconception that in order to be spiritual, you must be without prosperity. I don’t believe that. However, it is necessary to have balance between the two.

When she first saw me that day, she said she had been reminded of the image of a Buddhist monk, who carries with them the robes they are wearing and a bowl, trusting that everything will be provided for them; and it always is. She suggested that perhaps that was my way to be in this life. To have an abundant mindset is to trust.

We also talked about what I was doing with my genius, that part of me that is there to fulfill my purpose in life. While my original reason for doing a road trip seemed to be for the experience, I was finding out that it is much more. It has been a chance for new perspectives on life, to experience joy in adversity, to reflect back and see where I have been in order to look forward to what is to come.

Lisa had also asked me at one point what was keeping me from having everything in life that I wanted, since I had so much talent and ability. Why wasn’t I going for it?

In my aha moment, I realized that I have been afraid to put everything on the line because the last time I did that for the restaurant, it had been a financial failure, although in so many other ways it was the most amazing experience for me, my employees, and my customers.

I hadn’t jumped off the edge again because I feared that it would be the same financial outcome. I’ve been overwhelmed with the idea of having to gather my energy and resources, just to have it fail.

It occurred to me, whether I did or did not pursue my next inspiration, I was creating the same result – financial struggle. Staying safe hadn’t produced any better results than trying something new and different. If that were the case, why wasn’t I taking the next leap of faith? Wouldn’t it be better for me to jump and see where I landed, than to play it safe, since the outcome of the latter hadn’t been any better than the former?

Excited about what I had just realized, I quickened my pace to return to the cabin and write down my thoughts.

As I approached the barn, it occurred to me that there would be no way to put the deer rack into my car. It was huge and unwieldy. I decided to let Jess and Lisa determine its final resting spot. Short of putting it on the hood of my car, it just wouldn’t travel very well in my packed car.

I realized then that the rack of horns was a metaphor for my life. I’d been looking for this thing for a long time, and when I finally found it, I had too much other stuff keeping me from having it. I’ve been seeking inspiration, and instead of making it happen, I have allowed other stuff to keep me from living it. There was that theme again: I must die to the old way of thinking in order to bring in what truly fills me. It is time to start living big.

The next day, I awoke with more energy than I’d had in a while. I logged onto my computer to answer a few emails and check my banking. What I found was disturbing. Someone had been using my PayPal credit card number to purchase things and PayPal had been taking the money from my checking to pay for it! My hotel stays had taken much more than anticipated from my budget, so I was stunned to see what was left.

After contacting my bank and making arrangements to make sure everything was covered, I canceled my PayPal credit card (which was still in my possession) at their website, packed my things, and headed for Vista Caballo, the ranch of Lisa Dee, an author in Horse as Teacher: The Path to Authenticity. It was Saturday and PayPal’s offices were closed. I’d have to deal with it on Monday.

Last October, I flew to Texas and drove my new car home on a road trip through Santa Fe and the Four Corners area. I had visited Lisa and her fiancé Jess on that trip, having a lovely dinner with them and their weekend guests. This time through, Lisa had graciously offered their cabin for me to stay. I told Lisa how significant that was in light of my banking situation. From there and over the weekend, we had a number of discussions about prosperity, abundance, and the perception of both. Lisa has an incredible way of shining light on things, coaching and teaching in a way that is both informative and transformational.

Jess, a world-class competitor in bicycling, was on a training ride, so Lisa and I took the opportunity to catch up. Sitting in their outdoor, fire-heated soak tub, she talked about the Law of Attraction and how most of the information about that universal principle just scratches the surface. What is missing is how we value ourselves, and how we treat money in energetic terms. Lisa brought up the example of how we look at the value of a penny. Ironically, on my trip, whenever I had received pennies in change, I would casually flip them into a canister on the counter, not wanting to “deal” with “just” a penny.

Without my revealing this piece of information, Lisa went on to say that most people don’t understand that a penny is as valuable as any other denomination. Since it’s all energy, we should treat it all with respect. She hit that on the nail.

She continued that we often don’t value ourselves and what we bring to the world any more than that penny. And with our vibration set to not value ourselves, it’s no wonder the law of attraction isn’t working. Lisa has created two successful companies, having recently sold one for a very large sum. She knows about prosperity and how to attract financial abundance. I absorbed everything she said.

What she and Jess have built reflects that she walks her talk. The cabin was luxurious, with attention to every detail, from the artwork on the walls to the candles lining the Jacuzzi bathtub. After unpacking and as we walked to the barn to feed the horses, she asked how everything was in the cabin. I joked that I would love to stay on as her camp cook, and she replied that they are actually building another cabin so that they can hire someone to do that. She encouraged me to check out what they were building

if I had a chance the next day.

As Lisa cleaned the stalls in the barn and fed the horses, she asked if I was getting any messages from the horses. When I had visited in October, her horse Hakomi had communicated to Lisa that she and I could have a conversation without Lisa having to translate. I had promised Hakomi I would be in contact with her through a journey after I finished that trip. When I saw her in the corral, I realized that I had not done as I had promised. While the other horses were curious about me, Hakomi ignored my presence.

Hakomi, Vista Caballo

Mikey and Angel came to greet me, but Promise held back, interested, but shy. Angel is very gregarious, extremely intelligent, and wants attention. Mikey is a calm horse, observing everything, and not reactive. Both picked on Promise, but she would just walk away and not engage with their antics.

Mikey and Promise

I put my hand on Promise’s back, which she tolerated, more focused on her eating. She occasionally looked back at me, curious to know what I was doing. I was drawn to her stomach and put my hand there. Lisa watched me and then said that Promise had always had a sensitive stomach. An image came to me that Promise had a nervous stomach because she didn’t trust that she was staying with Lisa. I told Lisa what was coming to me.

Hakomi, Mikey, Promise, and Angel

She related that every time she had people come to the ranch for workshops and sessions, Promise’s stomach would get worse. I asked what her history was. She had been passed from person to person, just getting settled in when another change would happen. I suggested that maybe when people came she was concerned that she would have to leave with them.

Lisa immediately began to tell Promise that she was safe and secure. She would never have to leave. Promise seemed to respond, visibly relaxing and going back to eat. I put my hands on her stomach and started to send healing energy to her. A few minutes passed and she moved toward me, seeming to want more of what I was doing. If I moved away, she would position herself for more.

About that time, Hakomi came through the barn, walked directly to Promise and nipped at her. When Promise moved away, Hakomi did it again. Then Angel and Mikey did the same thing. Promise just continued to move away, never engaging in retaliation.

Then, as if Hakomi’s voice was in my head, I heard clearly, “Why are you working with her, first? Why didn’t you contact me like you said you would?” I immediately saw that she was upset that Promise was getting special treatment, and as lead mare, she was being bypassed.

I told Lisa the message I was getting, as Hakomi walked toward me, stood in front of me, and looked directly at me, like a woman scorned. I got the message. I apologized to her and told her I would connect with her later, as Promise needed some healing energy right now. She seemed to accept that and made her way to the back corral to continue eating.

After Jess returned and we all had dinner, we looked out at the horses who had been released into the yard. Promise was lying down on the ground, looking like she was uncomfortable. Watching her, Lisa began to become concerned that she might be having colic.

She wasn’t getting up, a clear sign that something wasn’t right. Jess got her back to the barn where Lisa and I started working with her. I put my hands on her stomach while Lisa massaged the muscles around her tail to stimulate her to eliminate.

As I sent healing energy to her through my hands she continued to move closer to me, pressing her back end toward me. Whatever we were doing seemed to be helping. She started to pass gas. We worked for another 10 minutes or so. Eventually, Promise moved away from us to the hay on the ground, and started to eat. A very good sign.

Later, Lisa went to check on her. When Lisa asked how she was, Promise led her to a pile of dung and smelling it, looked back at Lisa as if to say, “See, aren’t you proud of me?”

Much later, before I fell asleep in the amazingly comfortable bed, I took another dip in the soak tub. The stars were out on a beautiful, clear night. I had brought my drum and my Native American flute with me to the soak tub, and as I sat on the submerged step, I played the flute. The horses came out of the barn to listen, rapt with attention. The notes filled the space with sound.

Then I picked up the drum and began to journey. I met my horse spirit guide and was immediately connected with Hakomi. We had a long conversation about the day’s events. She shared how each horse was doing, saying that Promise was very grateful for our help.

She continued to explain that she would help me connect with other horses, just like my horse spirit guide. She explained that she was a translator and was eager to help me with energy work for horses. She also said that she had felt disrespected by my not connecting with her after my visit in October. I was duly reprimanded, then forgiven. She’s an amazing horse, that one.

I slept like the dead that night, awaking to a bright sunrise.

By the time the sun went down over the canyon rim and I was back in camp, the temperature had dropped from a lovely 75 degrees to a chilly 40. By the time I was tucked into my sleeping bag (thankfully it goes to zero degrees) after a quick dinner and a few minutes by the fire I had made, it was near freezing. In the night, I checked the temperature on my cell phone and it was a balmy 25 degrees. There’s a reason I don’t camp in the winter.

Although I stayed warm enough through the night, I coughed a lot in the cold air and awoke exhausted.

The sun was rising and I wanted to get some early morning shots of the canyon. At the rim, the canyon was quiet. The morning sun is so different than the sunset, both in depth of colors and in the mood it casts. The sunset is reflective, calming, and still. The sunrise is refreshing, vibrant, and awake.

There were very few people up at that time, and I was able to sit with my thoughts without interruption…

What came to me was how this trip has been all about perspectives… Heyokah. I could look at this trip as being awful, with getting sick, the cold weather moving across country as a sidekick, and not being able to camp, hike, and explore as I had planned. Meanwhile, how lucky and grateful am I for being able to embark on this journey? Regardless of how I’m stumbling along this path, I am thrilled with what I’m seeing, experiencing, and learning.

There are reminders of this perspective in the land – the spires in Zion, the depths of the Grand Canyon; the lush rain forests of the Redwoods and the blowing wind of Death Valley. All beautiful in their own unique way. Like the people I have seen and met. Diverse, of different countries, of different interests. All seeking beauty in nature, the spectacular and the still. I wish we could all step back and see the horizon with its infinite possibilities. Connecting with the creations of mother earth we can know the answers to all our problems. The perspective is there; we just have to look for it.

Watching the grandeur of the scene in front of me gave me a boost of energy. Unfortunately, it didn’t last long. Packing camp was a struggle. It seemed like walking through molasses. An hour later I drove out of the park, with very little energy to spare. This cold was really knocking me out.

When I stopped to get groceries along the way and said something to the checker, I found I had virtually lost my voice. Although the head cold was gone, I was still coughing and my lungs felt completely full. I hadn’t licked it yet, and sleeping in cold weather probably hadn’t helped.

I had planned to go to Canyon De Chelley in eastern Arizona, then to Mesa Verde in southern Colorado. All I could think of was getting to a warm bed, so I drove to a hotel in Dove Creek that I had stayed at on my trip through that region in October. Camping was out due to a predicted freezing night.

I would head to my client’s ranch the next afternoon. It would give me a chance to get some work finished in the morning.

At the end of the day, I thanked the spirits for the way they are illuminating my path. I am grateful for their guidance, protection, and healing.

Aho,
Marilyn

I turned south to the Grand Canyon in the middle of the day and headed for the North Rim. On the way, I decided I’d try to camp and the only campground was at the South Rim. Then I saw the sign saying that the North Rim was closed for the winter. Decision made, I decided to beeline to the campground, set up my tent, and catch the Grand Canyon sunset.

The last time I was at the Grand Canyon was the summer after graduating from high school. I had signed up with four classmates and seven others for a field trip through the desert Southwest. A satellite school to the University of South Dakota, where I was starting in the fall, offered the camping trip for biology credit. From the south rim of the Grand Canyon, we hiked the 3 miles down to the floor of the canyon, took a quick dip in the rushing Colorado River, then headed back up to the rim. My classmates and I were athletes and it took us all day at a good pace. Not everyone on the trip was in good shape and the last one climbed from the canyon long after midnight.

Setting up my camp after being sick felt like climbing up the canyon. It took a loooong time, and I was completely winded by the time I grabbed my camera and headed for the rim. I had bypassed all of the initial view points to get to the campground, so it was my first time seeing it after all those years. Despite all the magnificent sights I’ve seen, none compare to the awe I feel when I look at this amazing natural creation. It’s stunning, expansive, and exquisite in color, depth, and energy. It truly takes your breath away. A picture is worth a thousand words. Here’s a video I made of Zion, the Grand Canyon, and northeast Arizona.

“All this is the music of waters.” ~ John Wesley Powell, 1895, referring to Zion National Park.

Being on the road gives you plenty of time to think, especially the stretch of eastern Arizona that spans from the Grand Canyon to the Four Corners area. The road cuts through Navajo Nation, passing from mesa to mesa, steadily climbing through red sand deserts, an occasional rock formation breaking the otherwise barren vista. Spring has brought rain, causing a light layer of green to pop up along the gullies where flash floods race. Water is scarce, but when it does appear, the results of its influence are magnificent.

Thursday, I finally felt strong enough to leave the motel in Hurricane, Utah and head east toward Zion National Park. Before I left, I found that my new digital camera was not working correctly. I liked the camera enough, but found some things that I would rather have different, so decided to take it back to Best Buy, which I had seen nearby, and return it, not having the strength or interest to research a different camera. I still have my Canon Film SLR and my Droid, which does a good video, although the photos it takes aren’t so good, so I decided to go on without digital at my fingertips. As a result, I’ll be getting photos of this portion of the trip posted later.

As I entered Zion, I remembered why I love this park so much. This was my fourth time through the park. I had hoped to be strong enough to take one of my favorite hikes of all time, to Angel’s Landing, a steep climb to a pinnacle that overlooks the entire park. It’s a hair-raising climb on a 2-foot wide trail that drops down thousands of feet on either side. At the top, the view is dizzying, the river flowing through the valley floor from that view looks like a string of ribbon dropped on the floor. Unfortunately, still weak from the cold, I could only drive through this time.

While the Grand Canyon drops deep, creating an expansive crevice in the earth, Zion goes the opposite way in the same distances. The red cliffs and the towering pinnacles tower thousands of feet into the blue skies. Life in Zion flows from the Virgin River, creating an oasis in the desert, forcefully shaping the walls that create lush green canyons. The name Zion is Hebrew for refuge, evoking its place in the sanctuary of the southwestern desert, harboring a mosaic of plants, animals, and spectacular views.

At one point, I stopped to take pictures. I heard voices above me, and looked up to see rock climbers scaling the cliff. They were like specks of dust on the huge rock face. A couple from California had also stopped. We chatted for a while, wondering what motivates someone to do something like that. I’m fascinated by their desire to scale walls of this magnitude, but have no interest in trying it myself.

The vermillion, white, and pink cliffs of Zion are at the edge of the Grand Staircase, the southwestern edge of the Colorado Plateau. If you go north from here, you would pass through Bryce Canyon and on to Escalante, Capitol Reef, Dead Horse Creek Canyon, and Arches, all in southern Utah. Going south, you head to the Grand Canyon. I was headed south.

After leaving Yosemite, I had enough of the day to get close to the Sequoia National Park. I was hoping to find a hotel in Fresno, an hour from Sequoia. However, I was talking to my friend Pattie on the phone as I breezed through the city, and suddenly found myself way beyond any place to stay. Fortunately, the Squaw Valley Motel, 15 miles from the park had a vacancy. I got the last one just as the manager was turning off the Open sign. By that time, my cough had worsened and I was ready to get some rest.

The next morning I felt better, but knew I was still fighting more serious symptoms. I got an early start and made quick time. Unfortunately, most of Sequoia National Park was closed due to snow. I drove through the Avenue of the Giants and stopped at General Sherman, the famous massive tree. The trail to the tree was slick with ice, with everyone taking a looooooong time to get to the tree. That was the last exercise I was to get. After that, I drove. And drove. And drove.

Marilyn at General Sherman in the Sequoias

The route I took was due to all the passes over the Sierras being closed due to snow, with another winter snowstorm moving in on Sunday night. I went south, then decided to swing northward on the east side of the mountains, eventually arriving in Death Valley. I shot for arriving there before sunset. I hit the target, but by the time I came to Stovepipe Wells, the first stop in the park, the wind was rocking at 40-50 miles per hour. The temperature was dropping fast, and the dust was blowing strongly.

As I had made my way down, then up, then down again through the mountains, my ears had become increasingly painful. My cough had gotten worse, and I knew that the wind and cold would not be good. I decided to find a hotel and stopped at Stovepipe Wells. When I opened the door to the hotel, there were about 10 people in front of me. They were all in a group visiting from England. They had gotten the last rooms available.

By the time I reached the next stop on the road, all of the accommodations in Death Valley had been taken. I had three choices: pitch a tent in driving wind, sleep in the car (upright, since it was packed), or drive on to the next stop, which turned out to be Las Vegas, nearly two hours away. I opted for the latter.

And that’s when it hit me that Heyokah was reminding me to lighten up. After all, I had driven 600 miles that day, was coming down with a cold, and was seeing Death Valley in the dead of night. I had begun to get angry and frustrated, until I remembered the fireplug and dog.

I’ve been reading The Marriage of Spirit by Leslie Templeton-Thurston, a timely discussion for me. The section I’m in right now is about the cycles of up and down, that energy flows both ways and the better I become at moving with the flow instead of fighting what’s happening, of becoming an observer of my life, instead of engaging in the drama of what is happening “to” me, the more I’ll enjoy all the parts, good and bad, frustrating and joyful. Boy, was that ever relevant the past few days, in particular as I drove on through the drifting sand, tired, sore, and getting sicker by the minute.

By the time I reached Las Vegas, I was beat. The next morning, I awoke sick, my head stuffed and my lungs and throat sore from coughing. The storm was still dropping rain and the wind was still gusting to 40 mph. There would be no camping, but I wanted to at least get as close to Zion and the Grand Canyon as possible. So, I packed the car and drove to Utah, finding a modest motel room with a kitchen. I have been here for three nights, resting and recovering. The sun came out yesterday and they are predicting warm temperatures for the next few days throughout the region. Woo Hoo!

I’m feeling better, although still not 100 percent. But, I’m heading out tomorrow, and hope to make it quite a ways down the road. I’ll post more soon!

Drifts of sand blowing across the road, reflecting off my headlights in the dark night of Death Valley. That’s when it hit me… Heyokah. The card I’d pulled several times in the past few weeks had said it best: “Some days you are the fireplug and some days you are the dog.” I was letting getting pooped on get me down. It hasn’t been easy on the road these last few days.

Of course, I didn’t make it easy on myself by some of the choices I made that got me to the middle of Death Valley in the dark on one of the coldest nights on record for that desert. Add to that the wind gusts up to 50 mph. I was being stubborn and impatient, and I needed to start balancing the sacredness with irreverence. But again, I get ahead of myself.

After my session with Cindy and later a session with Bruce, I started to regain my energy and began to get itchy to get on the road. Thursday another snowstorm hit Truckee. Nothing serious, but enough to make the sun in the valley below beckon. I said my goodbyes and headed back to Elk Grove. I spent the next two days making the final preparations for the road trip and spending time at the Daehling Ranch.

I’d been tracking the weather to plan my trip. I wanted to beat another cold front that was predicted to move in Sunday evening. That was my first mistake. The second was that I ignored the tickle at the back of my throat, sensing that a cold was poised to take hold. But seeing an opportunity for sun in Yosemite on Saturday, I decided to take off for the park that day. I figured by Sunday evening I could make it through Sequoia and on to Death Valley, where it was predicted to be in the upper 70s. I thought that would make a nice temperature for my first night of camping.

Meantime, I had a spectacular drive through the foothills of the Sierras east of Sacramento on my way to Yosemite. Winding roads through lush green meadows sometimes dotted, sometimes filled with oak trees, wild flowers blooming in oranges, whites, and purples. The hillsides were carpeted with life. Streams ran along the road, and towns that had been there since the gold rush recalled their past with historic buildings in their downtowns.

As I climbed in altitude I started to see more purple trees in the layers of green that began to fill in the landscape. I drove for miles seeing only local traffic. Even closer to Yosemite there still were not many vehicles.

And then, unexpectedly, I tasted what all of the excitement of Yosemite was about: a view of Half-Dome towering above Yosemite Canyon, then the Yosemite River Falls pouring down, filling the river banks with spring runoff. They were breathtaking sights. And that was just the start of a wondrous day in the park.

The canyon is only about 5 miles in length, but the scenes in all directions are some of the most stunning I’ve ever seen, similar to the Columbia River Gorge, but much more substantial in size and grandeur. I finally got a hike, making the trip to Bridal Veil Falls from the road, about a half-mile distance. I also hiked to Yosemite River Falls on the other side of the canyon.

Just as I started to drive back toward the entrance of the park at sundown, the sun broke through the clouds, shining golden rays down on the granite monolith of Half-Dome. I pulled over to a riverside turnout as the blue skies peeked out, red-orange highlights on the stone reflecting the sunset in the west. I was grateful to witness a stunning palette of nature’s colors, in one of the most beautiful places in the world.

I smiled as I headed for the tunnel leading out of the park. As I came around the corner, yet another view awaited, even more stunning than the last, a panoramic view of the entire valley, Half-Dome and Bridal Veil Falls framing the picture, sunlight sparkling above low-hanging clouds. It was a perfect way to end a perfect day.

Here’s a video of some of the sights I saw. Enjoy!