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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

That evening, the storm they had been talking about arrived, first in the form of rain, then in the middle of the night, snow. Several inches fell Monday night, continuing through Tuesday morning. I called June to let her know that I would be staying another day at least, depending on the storm.

I drove in the storm to see the chiropractor. He was very good, spending quite a bit of time working on the various parts of my body that needed the most attention. He aligned me, but I was still sore. After the appointment, I sat down to do some computer work and realized that even that was painful. So, I wandered around the town of Truckee, exploring. The town and its people are used to these storms. Despite the snow, life continued to move around me.

As I remembered things I needed to take care of, and moved from store to store, I felt like I was moving through molasses. Everything took effort and focus, and I didn’t have it. What seemed like minutes turned into hours. I didn’t accomplish much, although I was exhausted by the time I returned to the cottage.

After resting for an hour, I heard Bruce’s wife Cindy feeding the horses below the cottage, which is a full apartment above the barn, a lovely, restful place with all accommodations. I went down to talk with her about dinner and she asked if I would be willing to do a shamanic healing session for her. We made the arrangements, and I went back to the cottage to prepare. I had already set up my altar for my morning ritual, so spent some time calling in the spirits. I realized that I had been completely ungrounded, and that was why I felt so disconnected and unfocused.

Cindy’s session went very well, and I could feel myself reconnecting with myself and the spirits. I haven’t been out for a walk in days, and so my groundedness with earth has been missing. I can see how important that is!

More photos and videos to come!

Monday, I woke to severe pain in most of my body, specifically my neck and left hip and leg. Not sure why, but I think it was a culmination of everything finally settling into my muscles. I could barely move. Bruce recommended his chiropractor, so we made an appointment for Tuesday.

The sun was out, but the wind continued. Bruce’s wife Cindy explained that the wind was a harbinger of a storm. Despite the wind and my pain, I really wanted to work with Gino, so we went to the tree stump in the middle of the corral. I had brought my healing drum, made of horsehide. Cindy asked if I would be more comfortable with the other two horses stalled, but I told her to let the others stay and we’d see what happened. My plan was to journey with the drum to Gino to see what he might have to tell me about his pain.

As we sat there, the horses came up to us to see what we were up to. Magic, clearly the alpha of the three, moved toward me with specific intent, focusing on the drum. I had not started drumming yet, so I held it out to him to smell. His energy picked up and he became very intent, smelling, then licking the drum. Then he did a very strange thing, something Cindy had never seen any horse do. He rapidly rubbed his lips back and forth on the drumhead, only stopping to lick, then try to bite the edge of the rim. Then he would do it again. It was very interesting to watch.

Meanwhile, the other horses wanted to see what he was doing, and moved in to smell the drum, too. But Magic would have none of it, chasing them away if they got too close. Then he would come back and do the lip thing again.

Finally, I pulled the beater out and tried to drum as I journeyed. Magic went into a trance, staring at the drum, his nostrils flaring slightly. He stayed motionless. The other two saw their opportunity and tried to move in. That broke his trance and he chased them away again. Then he came back and wouldn’t let me drum anymore, biting at the beater and putting his nose in the way of my drumming.

We decided to try and pen Magic and RC so we could work with Gino, but that didn’t work. Everyone got agitated, so we let them all be. I suggested that I go to the cottage and try journeying to them from there. What I did get as I was in the pen with them was that Gino was having severe pain in his left hind-quarter. I mentioned this to Cindy. I also felt it in Magic, but not as intensely. Magic let me touch that area of his body to do some energy work, and when I did he yawned and stretched, releasing energy. Gino would only allow me to touch his nose, but beyond that, he would move away.

In the cottage as I journeyed, the first thing that happened was a horse spirit came to me. Over the years, he had often appeared in the east when I called in the spirits, but I had not worked with him as a healing ally. That was about to change. He connected me with Gino, assuring him that I was there to help, not hurt. Gino didn’t want to dwell on what had happened to cause his trauma, but did show me two images, one of a saddle that didn’t fit, and the other of him falling as a result of the weakness caused by the ill-fitting saddle. He had become so sensitized to the pain that he couldn’t tolerate anyone touching him, and no longer trusted anyone except Cindy. I assured him that Cindy and I only had his best interests at heart. He left any assistance open-ended, not wanting to commit to trusting me. I did not journey to Magic or RC. I decided to wait for another day. I was exhausted and needed to rest.

Since my plans had changed with the delay in getting on the road, I decided to go to Truckee to visit my client and his wife, then come back again to June and Joe’s before heading to Yosemite. Sunday held exquisite weather and after a walk with Julia, Justin, and Jack, I headed for the hills. Here is a short video of the horses that followed us on our walk.

My client, Bruce, is working on a book proposal for his manuscript, a story told from the eyes of his dog, Dodger. Bruce is a veterinarian and has incorporated his experience with the human-animal bond with his love of his now-departed yellow Labrador retriever. When he heard I was going to be in Sacramento, he invited me to come and stay in their “cottage” for a few days. I had never been to Lake Tahoe, a 15-minute drive from their home, so I accepted the invitation.

After I arrived, they took me on a tour of the lake, driving the 73 miles around the gorgeous mountain lake. The wind was blowing, so we didn’t spend a lot of time outside the truck, but did stop a few times to take pictures and read about the history of the area.

When we returned to their home, we spent some time with Bruce’s wife Cindy’s horses. Cindy and I had met at an Equine Facilitated Learning workshop taught by Kathy Pike in March of last year. When Cindy learned I was a writing coach, she encouraged Bruce to contact me about his manuscript.

Cindy has three horses, all rescues. Gino, a beautiful red gelding, walked right up to me, which surprised Cindy. He is usually very distrustful of anyone new. He had thrown his owner and after a series of trainers, was deemed crazy. Cindy was contacted to see if she wanted to take him, or he would be put down. She has been able to touch him and eventually ride him, but he does not like it and Cindy doesn’t push it.

Magic is a large black gelding, a Thoroughbred cross. Lots of energy, with a cribbing problem (chewing on the wood of the stall). Cribbing is like smoking… a hard habit to break.

RC is the baby, a Premarin 2-year old rescued from North Dakota. Premarin mares are bred only for the urine they produce during pregnancy. The urine is used to produce medicine. The babies are taken from their mothers immediately after birth and put in pens, never having any connection with the herd or humans. He had never been handled before Cindy. He is now a very friendly, curious colt, always looking for attention.

That night, as we talked about my shamanic work and my search for how it fit with horse work, Cindy asked if I would be willing to do some work on Gino. We decided to go into the pen the next day and see what might transpire.

Here is a video of my trip pictures so far. Enjoy!

When I reached my cousins, the extent of the move and all of the preparations for the trip began to catch up with me. I had a difficult time staying awake, no matter the time of the day. The only time I had slowed down in the past month and a half was when I had gotten in the car to leave.

Despite the tiredness, I enjoyed seeing my cousin June, her husband Joe, her two daughters Joanna and Julia and their husbands, and the two new additions, Joanna and Bruce’s son Jacob and Julia and Justin’s son Jack, born two days apart nine months ago. Both adorable, and very different, kind of like their moms!

The weather was spectacular and the first day I hopped in the truck with Joe as he went out to the land and worked. Hopping in and out of the truck to help Joe was very familiar, having done that hundreds of times with my dad growing up in South Dakota. The Daehling Ranch is 400 acres, 60 of which are in Chardonnay and Pinot Grigio grapes, 100 acres devoted to nursery plants that they sell retail to the public, and the rest pasture land where 150+ Thoroughbred horses are boarded. They have even built a racetrack for training the horses.

The land is beautiful, with a river bordering the south edge and large trees shading the winding roads. Spring flowers are in abundance, and white egrets peppered the green meadows edging up to the ponds that dot the land.

Every October, Joe and June host a carriage drive on their land, where dozens of drivers with their horses make the circuit, then come back for a feast. Their hope is to someday create a carriage museum to showcase their passion for this part of the horse world.

I helped Joe replace some grape plants that had not made it past the deer, then hooked up the porta-potti trailer to take back to the yard. We checked in with some of the workers to see their progress in taking out diseased vines to prepare for replacing them. Farming is so much work. It always amazes me the love farmers have for what they do. I’m very grateful, and seeing the work being done made me appreciate even more what it takes to make a bottle of wine.

As Joe and I drove back to the ranch house, a coyote appeared on the edge of the road. He stopped and looked at us, wondering what we were doing on his land. His appearance reminded me of the coyote I had encountered in Chaco Canyon last October. In the night, as I lay under the clear sky, the coyotes sang their song on the canyon walls above me. The sound was beautiful and eerie, sending tingling chills through my body. The next day, as I drove out of the campground, I looked down to grab my map. When I focused back on the road, I saw a coyote squatting in the middle of the pavement, peeing. We both jumped with surprise at each other. I veered to miss him, and he sprung into the desert brush.

Since then the Heyokah card has come up several times, once in my Shamanic Writing Level II class, then again the next day in the Shamanic Writing Level I. Heyokah is the medicine of coyote, a trickster who teaches lessons through being contrary, through laughter, and through seeing different perspectives. I have been wondering what lessons I am to learn… and more important, how.