Angel of the Odd

We’re in Las Vegas. We don’t gamble. We don’t know if Brundlefly would enjoy gambling but we’re not going to give her any opportunities to find out.

We’re at an RV park less than three miles off the Strip, where it’s much quieter and much less bright, even taking into account the garishly-lit color-changing hotel and casino just next door. I’m doing laundry this morning, finding the washer and dryer prices to be relatively inexpensive considering where we are. We did the food shopping yesterday and found the same thing, to be true most especially at the Trader Joe’s.

I heart Trader Joe’s.

We have access to the casino with all its amenities while we’re staying at the park. There’s a bowling alley here, a movie theater, and an atrium within the casino hotel that houses a fiberglass waterfall amid a desert oasis, complete with animatronic animals of the American Southwest. It’s actually quite beautiful, for all of its artifice, and we enjoyed strolling through it during the evening. I look forward to discovering and re-discovering such little pockets of wonder in the other larger hotels out on the Strip during our stay.

I have been to Las Vegas before. Anaphys is here for the first time. I have been in and out of shows on the Strip with friends, who were both on and off the stage, but have never actually had the autonomy with my time and movement that I do on this particular trip. For the first time I am not desperately needing to raise capital to finance any debts or obligations. I am also able to pick and choose where to go and how long to spend there. Most importantly, I am able to begin figuring out for myself this place called Las Vegas, and from the viewpoint of a trailerite, it promises to be fascinating.

We had dinner at the casino buffet last evening (mistake … especially with the unadvertised MSG headache for dessert … ) and will be looking much more carefully at our dining options for the afternoons and evenings we are away from the Airstream. We have two guidebooks that give us prices and styles of cuisine to pore over and between them we can make some educated choices. There is wonderful good, fresh, whole food to be had even at places that ask you how many you are when you walk in, and we will find them while we’re here. There’s a sushi place in a diner shell that looks fascinating all on its own and we may swing by there after the weekend to see what it’s all about.

There are shows to be seen, most of which we cannot afford this trip, and many that are free for the watching if you know where to go and when to go there. We are even more enthused about things like museums, amusement parks, Red Rock Canyon and the Sekhmet Temple in the desert, things many people visiting Vegas don’t consider especially worthy attractions, which is a shame, really. The Natural History Museum has a display up on bioluminescence right now that I am really excited about seeing, maybe even a bit more than the dinosaurs, which is saying a LOT for those of you who know me.

For the most part, I think we’ll be spending our time taking in the energy and atmosphere that is Las Vegas in the 21^st Century and examining the major changes that are present. It sure isn’t what it was even in the 1990’s. There are far less people here for one thing. The casinos aren’t as loud when you walk through them. The noise used to be consistent, muffled and earthquake-y in its intensity. Now it’s simply a low-grade annoyance, like a neighbor in the apartment upstairs with the stereo up too loud. Even Anaphys, never having been here before, can sense that the energy level isn’t at all what it was, and that’s saying something.

We’ll be taking in a Vegas Vortex event for a while on Saturday and seeing what the energy level there is like. It has been many years since I’ve visited with Fire Tribe friends and family out here and I’m letting go of expectations about what I’ll find at this weekend’s goings–on. Here’s hoping the energy is still radiant and inclusive, though I’ve heard from more than a few people that even these events are not what they were in the last decade. It will be interesting for me to walk back into an environment of bliss and personal alchemical change having done so much changing myself these past few years. I wonder what I’ll find there, but I wonder what I’ll find within myself even more as I experience it.

The Strip will be the litmus test, with all the lights and splendor that go along with it. I’ve never felt overwhelmed by it, but I have held a sense of wonder and respect for the sheer size and spectacle of it all, which is a completely different experience up close and live than it is looking at it on a television screen or the Internet. I wonder how different it will feel to me now, under the circumstances of my visit, with the experiences I now have behind me in life. I’ve never fit into the culture here even in my twenties. Now that I’m nearing 40 the advertising lets me know that I’m even farther from belonging than before. Not that I mind. The culture here, for me, was one to be looked at and studied and sometimes appreciated, but never something in which to participate. The cultures at a level or two of remove, like the Vegas Vortex, are where I seemed to fit well before, but that is changing also.

The freedom of being a trailerite opens up new ways of looking at one’s self and presents opportunities for restacking priorities in a rapid and practical manner. It becomes obvious what is important in one’s life, and, more tellingly, what isn’t. Being in Vegas throws into sharp focus a lot of what we are told is important and what our priorities should be, but it is a hollow sort of endorsement this time around and it is difficult not to see that the Emperor is more naked than Brundlefly. The big influx of money is dwindling and I’m not sure this city knows how to survive on a trickle. Unlike us, it is unsuited to boondocking, and this is where I’m feeling a genuine sense of my own power. I’ll never gamble with the high rollers, but I consider what I have in life far to precious to risk. Its conservation, stability and future are all important to me, and I suppose that is what makes all the difference.

Part of the wonderful craziness that being a full-timer affords actually isn’t craziness at all. It only feels that way when you’re adjusting to a lifestyle change that takes you away from a schedule governed by the clock. That lifestyle tells us it’s breakfast time at 8am, work begins at 9am, lunch at 11:30 and so on.

Out here on the road it isn’t like that. It’s breakfast time when you’re awake in the morning and hungry, work begins when work conditions are right and lunch happens when there’s a logical break in the work process and you’re hungry again. You may not be hungry again until late in the afternoon. Then it’s dinnertime, perhaps. It’s really all up to you. Resting when you’re tired is another important component of this dynamic. Brundlefly knows all about that and teaches us every chance she gets.

It is challenging to transition into a lifestyle governed by the rhythm of one’s life, as ridiculous as that sounds. We’ve been trained out of it for so long, beginning with school days for most of us, taught that there is always a schedule to keep and that the consequences for deviating from said schedule were dire. Our time is not ours, and while time may be money, we’re taught that that’s not ours either.

Out here on the road, the moon phases are right in front of me, all the time. The moon shines in through the windows on clear nights and reminds me that there are other ways of doing things. The sunrise and sunset are integral parts of this style of timekeeping as well. The sounds of indigenous wildlife wherever we happen to be living also contribute to helping me keep in tune with the flow of the day.

I am not an early riser and never really have been. For the first time in my life I am able to choose to sleep well past sunrise if I wish. This has made a huge difference in my health, both physical and mental. For so many years I’ve been laboring under the idea that I must be flat out lazy to want to sleep past the sunrise and in point of fact I was told that I was lazy regularly while growing up and the idea took root and held fast. I’m just now coming to realizations that allow me to let go of this as a story that no longer serves me. For example, a lazy person doesn’t carry a 4.0 GPA in college while working multiple jobs, and this was my life story for nearly four years.

I can stop right there, can’t I?

The craziness part begins to surface when you realize that myriad pathways are now open to you as you build a new kind of life. It can be intimidating and labor intensive to sort out long held beliefs that no longer serve you, but it is the only way to create the life that is right for you.

The road has been a wonderful Teacher for me in this capacity. It has given me long stretches of open time to ponder what those stretches might best be used for and I have been filling them with art, reading, writing, conversation and friends and family whose company is good and healing for me, and who enjoy mine in the same manner. I am finding that each path that presents itself need not be a finite choice. Like most hikes, many of the paths will bring you full circle to where you started, only more refreshed and wiser for having traversed them. If you get tired along the way or discover you weren’t prepared adequately, there are routes on which to bail out and return to start until you are genuinely ready to tackle what lies ahead (and bail out routes have their lessons too). I don’t have to shut a door on an opportunity. I can defer it and try it on for size later.

Thus far the road has gifted me with a new Power Animal, a simple and effective way to jump start my exercise habit, fulfilling art and writing projects, opportunities for tattooing that span several states, a blossoming friendship with an amazing woman I greatly admire (as well as her daughter and husband whom I adore), ample resources and the lessons on how to best make them work for us, new and regular ways of connecting and communicating with Best Beloved and a sense of self worth that I don’t think I’ve ever really had before.

For me, right now, there is no Road Less Traveled. They’re all Roads I’m Going To Travel and I’m ready, willing and, finally, able.

So it’s been an interesting week here in the Airstream. Lots of exploration in and about Tucson and a few new adventures have led to my falling even more deeply in love with the desert and this corner of the country. It feels natural to be here and I seldom feel comfortable in one spot for very long. In point of fact, this coming week we head north to Las Vegas. Anaphys has never been and I am looking forward to showing him a bit of the Strip but also to taking him out to Red Rock and the Sekhmet Temple, destinations few Vegas visitors know or care about.

I got to hike parts of the Loma Verde Loop in Saguaro East and enjoy the solitude. The only other living things I saw were a few birds, a rabbit and an enormous red-tailed hawk that landed atop a tall saguaro to scope out the meal options in the area a few yards from where I was hiking. I took Anaphys to hike the Freeman Homestead Trail this past week and we enjoyed it without any sort of incident resembling my previous post, thankfully. Driving the one-way loop on the way out of the park we decided where to stop and hike on our next visit. We’ll likely get back to it two or three more time before our scheduled Vega departure.

Last Saturday was the opening for Tucson Roller Derby’s 7^th Season. The women were in great form and treated us all to a wonderful show that included three very close (like, skin-of-the-teeth close) bout scores that determined their winners within the final two seconds or so. By far my favorites were the Furious Truckstop Waitresses, followed by the home team, the Copper Queens. The ladies skated their hearts out for us and when the evening was said and done there was one not-very-seriously injured to account for, and even she was all smiles as the crowd filed out to head home.

I absolutely must give a huge thank-you shout out to all the ladies of the Tucson Roller Derby who took the time to stop and visit with our hosts’ young daughter, who attended her first Derby wearing a cast on her newly broken foot. She broke it in the middle of one of her karate classes, finished the lesson on it and then went to the movies. It was a day later that x-rays determined she’d broken a metatarsal. Tough kid. Everyone at Roller Derby agreed as they lined up to sign her cast. You ladies are the best of the bestest. You made a young lady’s evening and you totally rock for doing it. Wanted you to know.

After Roller Derby, the logical place to go for a bit of nosh was El Guero Canelo, the place that created the idyllic food known as the Sonoran Hotdog. It’s a mere four blocks from where Roller Derby was held and stays open until midnight. If you go, the Sonoran Dog is a must, followed by the Tortas. The salad bar is worth the trip on its own, and you get that with any food purchase so even a small quesadilla gets you a meal that is generous and healthy depending on the choices you make. I can’t rave about this place enough, truly. I owe Belfast a debt of gratitude for introducing us to it when we were all here for the Tucson Tattoo Expo last April. The Expo rides again this year, by the way. Here’s the skinny.

The day following Roller Derby I really needed some cave time. Fortunately there was a book on loan to us that intrigued me. I ended up reading it cover to cover in just under a day. It’s called American Nomads and it not only related the stories of some relatively unknown and truly amazing people in the history of the New World, it gave me a better sense of why this sort of life appeals to me so strongly. Even though I felt folks like Anaphys and me weren’t at all touched on by author Richard Grant, I still got a lot out of it and will buy a copy because I feel it’s an important work to have with us as we travel.

And what week would be complete without Brundlefly getting into places and things she shouldn’t? We do our best while on the road and while parked near friends to get Brundlefly into an environment where she can run about and stretch her little naked legs a bit. She has a pattern of laps she does in the trailer to be sure, but there’s nothing quite like an open living / dining room combo for really getting her speed up. She’s impressive, to put it mildly. We’d brought her into our hosts’ home a couple times previously with no problems. I had looked around for holes in the wall (they’re still finishing the house here and there) and other inviting dangers that might present themselves and having found none, I set loose our wee beast to have run of the place.

Her third foray in the house she ran about as usual for about an hour and then vanished. We called for her and looked behind and beneath furniture. This went on for several minutes until we finally heard an answering mew. It took us a little while to narrow down where it was coming from and when we did I practically had to peel myself up off the floor.

She was in the ductwork.

None of us could figure out how she’d gotten in there, but we dutifully began to unscrew the grating from in front of the duct where we heard her calling to us. It led to a wall. There was no way into the ductwork from where we could hear her. It took another few minutes for one of our hosts to determine where she’d gotten into the ducts. It was an open vent behind a bedroom door and we’d all missed it on the first cat safety sweep. He got down onto the floor to peer into it.

There was Brundlefly. I came over to see if I could coax her out and got down on the floor as he had been. I called to her. Her head popped right up in front of me out of the duct that led down beneath the floors. When I reached in to see if I could pull her out she popped it right back down again. To her this was the most fabulous game ever and she wasn’t about to stop playing. To us it looked for all the world like Whack-A-Mole. Only with a cat. In floor ducts in a house in Arizona.

When she came out on her own a few moments later, looking recalcitrant and completely covered in dust and debris, we scooped her up and took her back to the trailer, completely mortified that we had lost our cat in (literally IN) our friends’ house

So it’s been quite a full week here in Tucson and we’re looking forward to many more adventures. But no more filthy cats creeping through ducts. We’ve had enough of that one for a lifetime.

I joined the guided hike as the Volunteer Ranger was pointing out a Great Horned Owl nesting site several feet above our heads in the hill that shaded the wash where we stood. He had just finished explaining that the owls may have returned to the site but had left the previous year after ravens had raided their nest and eaten the entire clutch of eggs. The three older ladies, one of whom I assumed was mother to one of the other two, were the only other hikers I’d seen on the trail and as I joined the party for the last part of the trail there were some things that bothered me.

The Ranger and I were the only people carrying water. Granted, it was a mile long trail, but this is the Sonoran Desert. The sun may not feel hot and that wind may feel cool, but both are slowly leaching moisture from you as you hike, and that moisture evaporates quickly here in the desert. I stopped to drink some water as I thought about this and the fact that the Ranger and I were also the only ones wearing hats. I thought a time or two about skipping ahead of the guided hike since my aim was to get my blood moving, but something told me to be patient and stick with it. I was in the middle of a beautiful section of the park and the weather was perfect. I slowed down to enjoy it that much more, feeling very present and very alive.

It was amid the slow ascent back to the trailhead that I noticed the eldest of the three women (I’ll call her Nani) slowing and leaning over to catch her breath. By this time it had been established through casual conversation as we walked that she was hiking on her own and was unrelated to anyone else in the party. I drew alongside of her and offered her some of my water, which she took with thanks. She assured me she would be just fine and we continued our climb up the stone stairways. Something in my gut told me to continue to walk behind her and I did so until we drew up with the Ranger and the other two ladies where they had stopped to wait for us to catch up. The Ranger inquired after Nani’s condition and she reassured him, as she had me, that she was just a bit winded. We had reached a marker, a forged metal signboard, which gave us an education about antelope ground squirrels, and we stopped to rest for a moment.

When I looked over at Nani it was clear that something was very wrong. She leaned heavily on the sign and I asked her if she was lightheaded. She replied that she was and almost immediately began to sag toward me.

If you have ever had to catch a person in a faint you know how awkward it is to support their weight. I called to the rest of the party and supported Nani on the ground as best I could. She came around and tried to stand back up at once, nearly striking her head on the metal signboard in the process. I kept her supported and covered her head to keep her out of harm’s way and once she was mostly upright I called to the Ranger to see if he had anything sugary in his pack. He didn’t, but one of the other ladies did and pulled out some fruit snacks, which we gave to Nani. She ate two of them as I asked one of the women to get behind her in case of another episode, which occurred a few seconds after we were in position to catch her and ease her to the ground.

I insisted we place her in recovery position as the Ranger called for assistance and gave the proper people our location and an overview of the situation. I was concerned that Nani might aspirate if she were to become nauseous and I wanted her in the proper position so she could continue to breathe freely if that happened. Up to this point I had no idea that any of the First Aid coursework I had taken to maintain my Tattooing License had been of any practical use. It was the Ranger who asked about my training and that was when I realized what I had actually just done.

The four of us kept Nani hydrated and on the ground, shading her with jackets that had been taken off during the hike, until the first wave of help arrived. When the first responders determined that she was lucid and apparently recovered they assisted her to her feet again with the intention of helping her to walk the last few yards to the trailhead. Within seconds she dropped like a stone for the third time and then the rescue began in earnest. Oxygen was brought out and a backboard called for and arrangements were made for transport to the nearest hospital. I offered assistance if needed, stating my Red Cross certifications and then stood aside to let the professionals do their work.

As it turned out, Nani’s daughter, whom she is here in Tucson visiting, was employed at one of the hospitals and Nani asked to be transported there. I’m certain all will be well with her.

As I left my information with them, the EMT Rangers took my statement about what had occurred and thanked me for my quick response. All I could say to them was what had been going over and over in my head. If Nani were my mother, I would have wanted someone to be there for her, to stay with her to make sure she got the treatment she needed.

I just did what anyone would have done.

Didn’t I?

I worked on both the big 2010 projects today, making a good amount of headway on one of them in particular so that the first portion may actually be completed this evening. In addition I saw a dear friend I hadn’t seen in many moons and filled the larder with good quality food from the local Ralph’s chain as well as the Trader Joe’s. It’s been a great day with a lot accomplished in preparation for moving on to boondock at Quartzsite, AZ for a little more than a day before wending our way back to Tucson and more chances for working interspersed with 4 or 5 mile hikes in the Sonoroan Desert.

Needless to say I’m wracked by guilt about it all.

I can’t seem to relax and let the enjoyment take over just yet, but I’m finding some solutions for that and they have been very effective thus far. I’m sleeping much better. I’m pining to get back to hiking, yoga and every additional sort of activity I find I enjoy. My jeans felt a bit looser this morning even after having been dried in an industrial Laundromat dryer the day prior.

I suppose I’m a bit anxious due to the fact that we’re camped on asphalt out front of a parts and service place that caters to trailerites. The people are friendly and very skilled, and we’ve been able to get some rare parts here that we really needed for the Safari as well as make some repairs with said parts, but the fact remains that we’re in the industrial section of Riverside, CA with all that implies. It’s the kind of place that makes one appreciate and fell rich gratitude for time spent in spots like Anza-Borrego. It comes with the territory and I’m getting over it.

The best thing I figured I could do after being woken early so we could move the trailer a half-block out of the service bay was to immerse myself in work, with the hope that I would move through my angsty mood and leave it behind. It worked very well. So well, that I’m now feeling angsty all over again.

I’ll find my stride soon, I know. I’ve already noticed that there are certain rituals forming during the course of the mornings and evenings on the road and I find them very comforting. They tell me that very soon attention to my own work will be a part of the format of the day. No procrastination and no guilt needed. It’ll take some more time, to be sure, maybe another month or two for it all to sink in that there is now nothing left ot do “when I get home”. Because home is here and I’m doing what I need to be doing every single day.

You know? I think I’m gonna be able to live with that.