Seeking Contentment in the Land of...

Thirst and Desiccation.

I’ve been on a protracted tour of my personal Happy Places. Beginning with Grand Canyon National Park, I took time outs in Zion NP, Kodachrome State Park, Grand Staircase/Escalante National Monument, Capitol Reef NP and Canyonlands NP. My sprint journey finished up in Great Sand Dunes NP. 

I made a five night R&R stop in Durango, Colorado as well. 

For the most part, the weather was mild to marvelous. I slept with Benedict the Van’s windows ajar. All my campsites had enticing views. My neighbors were respectful and quiet. I saw a few new gorgeous places and got reacquainted with Old Buddy hikes too. My Utah contraband stash of IPAs stayed cold. I expelled many sighs of contentment. Once again,  my World was silent and serene. Happy Times.

There’s a commonality to all these sublime low humidity landscapes. They are all a few hours or a day’s drive from Durango, Colorado. Location, location, location. Did I mention the San Juan Mountains (Colorado’s most beguiling Range) are practically straddling Durango’s lap? Armed with a 4x4 pick-up truck with a camper topping it,  a wanderer can explore for ages. There’s heaps to see around here. Most of it is Virgin Territory to me. 

It’s for the above reasons and scads of others, I’ve plunked down a deposit on a tri-level townhouse beginning on August 1st. It’s a walking distance to Durango’s restaurants, brewpubs, library, pot dispensaries, movie theaters and grocery stores. The unit has an east facing balcony which will be a perfect fit for a Weber Grill. The place is already furnished in a Macho Southwest motif. ( I reckon, I’ll start wearing a cowboy hat.) There’s two bedrooms and three bathrooms with flush toilets.  There’s hot and cold running water. The kitchen is equipped with more than a Coleman Stove and Cooler. (That’s a good thing) The unit has a washer and dryer. There’s over 100 TV channels to veg out over. It has loads of storage space which I won’t come close to filling. 

I’m still a Minimalist. 

After existing for seven years in the Van’s 66 square feet of living area, the townhouse will feel like the Taj Mahal with electricity. I’m joining the World of Grown Ups. I’ll now be a home owner by choice. No longer will I have to stammer an answer when someone asked me, “Where do you live?” 

This might take some getting used to. 

Wish me luck.

Cheers! 

Jeff

“Jeffy! You have to be your own Doctor”

were the wise words of advice Sid Sambur imparted upon me time and time again. Recently, I  paid attention to what my Dad once said.

If you’ve been following along, one needn’t be a Doctor Joyce Brothers to figure out my mindset has been off. Sure, I get the Blues, the funk and feelings of melancholy. (Doesn’t everybody?) 

Yet, this episode had been different. This duration outperformed the 2010/2011 almost back to back sedans vs. bicyclist accidents which left me hobbled mentally and physically. I stressed if I was ever going to get my active life back. Fortunately it takes more than being smashed by two sedans to really debilitate me!  When I realized I would fully recover, my mood brightened immediately.

On this go around, I left America with a few months of feeling lowdown above the neckline. I went to Australia (a place I always enjoyed in my previous five visits) with hopes of hiking to pretty places and meeting more of those laid back locals. I thought the trip would provide me a needed attitude adjustment. It didn’t happen. I wasn’t getting my minimum daily requirement of exercise or “Oo Ah!” views. I was dropping a lot of coin to lose fitness, gain fatness, and spend inordinate amounts of time alone. After awhile I capitulated to the greasy fish and chips and Aussie IPAs. I set my feel good sights on the Grand Canyon and beyond. 

In the meantime, a few observant friends picked up my vibe. They showed genuine concern and asked me, “How’re you doing?” When I answered “Not so good.” They heaped me with well intentioned advice. IE: Prozac, Valium, Ambien, seeing a therapist and to get a dog. I told all those nice people, “Wait awhile. Wait awhile.I think the Grand Canyon backpack trip with Brad (my Brother from another Mother) will fix me.” 

But first! I had to deal with a still gimpy knee. How would I go up and down dicey trails with a dodgy knee? By modern chemistry, that’s how. God Bless titanium strong anti-inflammatory meds, and shots of fresh squeezed cortisone. At this point, I was more concerned about my mental well being than exasperating a knee injury. 

As Brad and I descended into the “Big Ditch” (into pummeling winds and a short burst of White Death), I felt my angst and worries begin to fall away. On day three, I sat by the Colorado River and watched and listened to it’s soothing sound. By day five, I gazed at the stars and a rising moon. By day six, I suffered up the Tanner trail with a wring-your-shirt-out sweat. 

That was a good thing. 

After parting ways with my mellow non-judgement Bro, I headed to a cheap hotel with a soft bed in Kanab, Utah. There I slept extremely well. When I awoke, I looked at a stranger in the mirror. I was legitimately smiling for the first time in months. I was back! 

Sid was right. You have to be your own Doctor. 

Now the Public Service Announcement part of this blog. 

We now live in harsh times of bluster, bravado and bullying. Basic human traits such as humility, empathy, generosity, honesty, politeness, compassion and civility are almost looked upon as weaknesses. Personally. I think it’s a shame. Maybe everyone is too BUSY to take the time to be more humane and caring. 

I’ll end this with a simple suggestion, and it won’t cost you a thing except a little of your time.

If someone you know seems a bit “off” and wants to talk. (I mean really converse, not text) It’s probably not the time to look up at the sky and say, “Nice day, if it don’t rain!” in a lame attempt to change the subject. Hear them out. Most of the time they aren’t looking for advice or answers. They just need to vent. Remember, one day you might be the one who is “off.”

For those of you who allowed me to recently vent. A sincere Thank You. 

Choose kindness.

Cheers!

Jeff

My Aussie Trip of...

Meh. This Down Under journey was one for the books. Although it wouldn’t be a best seller.

My time here plodded along in a sameness of coffee, veggie omelettes, PB&J sandwiches, hikes when I could find them and get there and fish and chips pub meals. Eventually, all this was washed down with a solo Happy Hour. The trip felt forced. There was little natural flow. I was traveling by habit. I felt isolated and alone.

So I asked myself, “Self! Why did this happen?” 

Here’s the best answer I can come up with. Somehow since my last trip here I changed from being a free spirit on a push-bike to an invisible Grey Nomad driving the World’s smallest rental car. Socially it was a let-me-down visit. I reconnected with less than a hand-full of old acquaintances and made nil new ones. A first for me. I’m not proud of this.

Since the hikes were mostly short, my days were long. I’m a terrible tourist. I can’t make a day of walking around a town window shopping or sitting in a groovy cafe drinking cappuccinos and eating delicate sandwiches. I’m good for about an hour of this.  

On a positive note, with all this Down Under Down Time I consumed fourteen US/World history books since I arrived. Ask me and I’ll recommend a few.

My trip here has reconfirmed what I already knew. I’ve hit the wall on solo traveling. I’m tired of my own company. For a majority of my life constant motion was my prescription to ward off the feeling of loneliness. That pill isn’t affective anymore. I need a new prescription. 

With all this being said, you’d think I would be looking forward to returning to the United States of the New Dark Ages.

 I’m not. 

America isn’t the joy-joy happy place it once was for me. We’ve become a Nation where civility has been replaced by rounds of fist pumping and posturing. I see evil on the horizon. I’m scared of what we are becoming and where we are going. I wish this wasn’t so. I hate feeling like a stranger in a strange land. 

I’ll now unveil my game plan to get me through to November 3, 2020. Here’s my next read.

If that doesn’t work I’ll switch to Double IPAs. If that doesn’t work I’ll move to Nimbin, NSW. (The Stoner Capital of Australia.) How do you think I’d look in dreadlocks? 

BTW. Today (in Australia) will be the start of my seventh year anniversary of being Homeless by Choice. This will be the year USS Wandering Wondering Jew will furl the sails and cut the engines. 2019 will be the year I find a base camp. 

https://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2018/04/homeless-by-choice.html

Be well,

Cheers

Jeff