A quick housekeeping note:
I see that Google has managed to keep the email notification working,
however if you read the post directly from your email, the formatting is all
over the map. If you want an easier
read, click on the title of the post, it will transfer you to the blog. And thanks for reading!
***
Greetings from Convict Lake, California, where I am happy to
report that Kitness is alive and well! Despite
having reservations for site #83, Beagle is parked in my all-time favorite pitch,
site #87. If it wasn’t for the smoke, we
would have an incredible view toward the lake and into the mountains. Yes, the smoke has caught up with me: Monday, while getting supplies in Mammoth, the
smoke was so intense that I almost began the drive to Colorado three days
early.
But my sixth sense was telling me to go to Convict Lake
where I hoped to pick up a first-come first-served site for Monday, ahead of my
Tuesday and Wednesday reservation.
I pulled in and drove around looking at what was
available. Site #83, the site for which
I had reservations, was available so I could park and not move for three nights. But it was a sad site: It sat down in a depression and I much prefer
to sit higher up; I like to see what is coming.
I stood there looking at #83 and gazing longingly up to #87
where I could see the red “reserved” sign hanging. I had the luxury of that pitch the last time
I visited. What the hell, I thought, I
might as well see what the sign actually says.
And lo’ and behold, the reservation didn’t start until Thursday! Just then the camp host pulled up and, after
I explained the situation, he suggested I just take #87, no need to call and
change my reservation, he would just make a note of it and change #83 to “open”.
Sometimes you get really great camp hosts.
A friend of mine who is thinking of spending more time in
his RV, asked what I did during the evenings.
I am sure I have mentioned this before, but first of all, everything takes
at least twice as long in Beagle: You
first have to take out whatever it is you want to do, do it, then put it back. Plus, often you have to move two or three things
to get to the item you want to use. After
a day of hiking, a short hot shower, and the four-act play of making dinner and
washing dishes, you actually don’t end up with as much time on your hands as
you think.
But you do have some time and here at Convict Lake, there is
zero cell reception so I needed to be more self-entertaining than usual. Unlike Sunday night where I had enough bars to
stream SNF, Monday Night Football was out of the question. I also did not have any TV or movies
downloaded but I did have a delightful collection of podcasts. Podcasts are interesting because you have no
need for external vision; the good podcasts create images in your mind, like watching
your own private movie.
Last night, for pure entertainment, I listened to Terry
Gross interviewing Ray Charles on “Fresh Air” (recorded years ago), and Sam
Harris talking with Ricky Gervais from their “Absolutely Mental” series; all
voices that brought a smile to my face (as well as outright laughter more than
once) and companionship to my soul.
Then, because the night was still young, I listed to an
installment from Sam Harris’ Waking Up course, a lecture on Buddhism by Jeffrey
Goldstein, focusing on the origin of Dukkha (loosely and inexactly translated
as the source of suffering.) The hour-long
lecture lasted more like two hours the way it made me think; I had to stop it
often to make notes. He discussed hope,
craving and obsession and pointed out that once you get the item you are hoping
for, you still only have your six senses in order to experience whatever it is.
You may see it, smell it, taste it,
hear it, touch it and feel a great connection to it, but ask yourself what is
it about having that item that is going to change your experience of life? And do you think that change will last
forever? (Silly student.)
I took these deep thoughts to bed and carried them again
this morning on my long hike with Opus.
We headed toward Mildred Lake which clocked out at 12 miles round
trip. I didn’t really think we would get
there; for one thing, that would be a long day to leave River in Beagle, but also
the smoke was making it difficult to breathe.
But we set out, looking forward to a new trail and hoping to see Mildred
Lake.
After steadily climbing for over two miles and wondering
what I was doing to my lungs bringing in so much smoke, I was absolutely sure
we weren’t going to make it to the lake—and quite disappointed as I had hoped
to see it. Just like that, hope had turned
to disappointment and I was allowing Dukkha into my life: I began to not enjoy the hike—it had no
goal. But then I thought back to the lecture
and asked myself, “What is it about seeing that lake that would change my
experience of life?” I would see water
and mountains and trees aflame with fall colors, all of which I already had
available.
Reminding myself that I had my six senses right here and
now, I began to use them: Listening to
the sound of the river flowing well below me, looking across the valley at the
Aspen trees turning bright yellow, thankfully not smelling any bear, tasting my
independence. (The picture above is from
this spot of the hike.)
A fellow hiker appeared.
“Did you
make it to Mildred Lake?”, I asked.
“No, that
is quite a climb”, he replied, “This day is just about enjoying the valleys.”
And there was my sixth sense: It often defies definition but encompasses,
for me, connectedness to fate, to others, and to nature; in a ten-minute
conversation with a fellow hiker I found them all.
At 3.5 miles in, Opus and I found a lovely spot next to the
river for lunch, I filtered three litres of the delicious mountain water, sat
and enjoyed the quiet and then we returned to camp filled with memories of the delightful
valley.
-K
PS: Although I did
not listen to an episode of “Smartless” on this night, it has become one of my
favorite podcasts: Jason Bateman, Will
Arnett and Sean Hayes interviewing different people—the LeBron James episode,
in particular, is hysterical. And I read. A lot.
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