Why?

Why, indeed, am I sitting here in a camp chair, gazing at a wood fire, with rain coming down on the tarp I cleverly put up last night, when I could be home, with all the associated comforts, including a roof? There must be a reason other than that Joan unexpectedly likes doing this stuff.

Requires a bit of thought. I begin with a few stray ideas:

We are miles from home and the cares that go with it. No lawn to mow, garden to tend, carpet to vacuum, dish washer loads to deal with. No phone. No internet. We have only the cares that we choose to bring with us. Decisions, responsibility, duty, these are not banished, but suspended. We have lots of time to visit together, a thirty-plus year habit that I don't want to cure, and with some effort, we can avoid stressful topics. A major factor.

Yes, there are inconveniences here. Coffee making is not automatic. Dishes are hand washed, but there are few of them. I have to stand up in the morning, starting inside a low tent, crawling out, then getting to my feet, which has become a chore in the last year. It is quiet, except for the rushing-water sound of the river. It is quiet at home, too, except for the airplanes above, and the air boats on the river below, but it is generally quiet. I hear more neighbors here than at home. The cars and four-wheelers are closer here, so noisier. The view here is tall spruce trees, while at home there are mountains, a big river, and even spruce, birch and aspen trees. In all, I'm no more uncomfortable here than the condition of the body allows. Inconclusive.

Since I left my shoes at home (I'm wearing sandals), hiking is out this time. Usually, hikes are fun and a positive part of a trip. We still walk to the river and around the camp ground, but no treks this time. Shoes are definitely on the checklist now. I still have my toys, those that I want to use. I have music if I want to play it. I have both electronic and paper things to read. No TV and no news! I didn't leave ALL the goodies at home, but I left the ones that bring in stress. This is positive.

Do I "commune with nature"? Not any more than usual, I think. Home is surrounded by the stuff, after all. Even the moose come around home occasionally, although the porcupine, all grey and yellow and bristly, was cool to see. I don't think nature is much of a factor either way, but it's a small positive.

I don't think I'm done with this track.

Office in the woods

Porta-tech. I'm in a folding chair in Brushkana crampground, 31 miles east of Cantwell, Alaska at N63 17.475, W148 03.794, elevation 2,537 ft, accuracy 19 feet, according to 8 satellites and my etrex Legend GPS. I think its all magic, but I appreciate the magicians all the same.

We put up our medium tech tent, tossed in the mats and sleeping bags and our travel pillows, and will be turning in shortly. No, this is definitely NOT roughing it, despite the location. We are in a BLM crampground, complete with picnic table and fire pit. I'm sitting under a nylon tarp I put up to fend off the rain, should it manage to climb over the Alaska Range just to our north. When we drove down this afternoon it was raining briskly north of the range. But we are just a few miles from the tallest peaks in north America. Weather on one side is not very related to weather on the other. Rain up north? Go through the pass and you'll be dry. I'm constantly amazed at this place.

We think occasionally of buying a pop-up trailer which we can tow behind our car. It would be nice for places like this, where the neighbors are far enough away that we don't hear or see them. When we checked in with the host, we did get warned that mama-moose had two young-uns this year and she is hanging around the crampground. There is also a bird about five feet away, checking for dinner leftovers. Dogster doesn't let that happen (leftovers), of course, but bird doesn't know that.

I don't know about the trailer, though. It would be easier than crawling around on the ground to get into the tent. Also easier to stand up in the morning, which is getting ever harder. I just hate to go with more stuff than we already drag along. So we are still thinking about it, but the idea hasn't gone away.

Another evening at the lake

I went to the lake this evening -- Swan Lake, that is, at the Kennedy Center, with the American Ballet Company. In fifty years of playing trombone, some of it for ballet, I had never seen a full performance of the Tchaikovsky's first ballet. Such performances really don't come to Fairbanks and rarely to Alaska. Given the costs involved, they don't get to much of America beyond a few big cities. I am grateful for the opportunity to see and hear such art, brought to Fairbanks by that nemesis of Congress and the radical Republican right, public broadcasting. It seems a pity to me that our modern culture has so little interest in the arts that ballet, orchestra, and (even) opera are always struggling for funds, but I have been pleased that the arts, in depth presentation of current events, and entertainment beyond unreality programming have been supported by our state and federal government. That seems a valid use of pooled funding to support complexity beyond the comprehension of a public so wrapped in instant gratification.

That our congress and our state legislature are hot to cut out all funds for these projects because they present views that do not agree with the legislators really PISSES ME OFF! I will vote that viewpoint at the ballot box as I do with my annual support for public radio and television, but I am afraid, in this era of one party politics, that the radicals will push through their censorship agenda before Americans wake up to what is happening.

Enough for now.

Firsts

[Typical "what I did last summer". Nothing deep here except the lake.]

First time out for cramping this summer; first time with theDawg ever. Just an overnight, but a good dry run (humor) for later and longer junkets. We three filled the car with assorted stuff and headed out Friday, with a stop at the Alaska Club North for a warm up hot tubbing and shower, going east toward Chena Hot Springs and the Alaska State Recreation Area. After a bout with 237,419 mosquitos, carefully counted, at one of the sites, we settled in at Red Squirrel crampground, where the only open space was just that -- a very open space. Luck found us a way to a more accomodating site, though, when the picnic group broke up in the afternoon and freed a crampsite/pavillion by the lake. I pounced on it and we were off by the woods.

Judging by the sky, this was an astute choice of site. I cleverly put up the tent on the concrete slab under the pavillion roof and we settled in for a relaxing evening. Lily (theDawg) demonstrated her Labrador Retriever side with a swim and a bit of stick fetching from the lake while the German Shepherd side investigated every possible square centimeter of the whole site. Nice combination, that. I didn't know she liked to swim! I DID know she likes to remove water from her coat with a vigorous shake and stood well back on her exit from the water. She was almost dry when we put her to bed for the evening in the car and slipped into the tent, sans pillows. I did say dry run.

Of course, as is customary with our camping, it didn't stay dry. The rain started at 11:00 pm, countinued through the night, and is still at it Sunday afternoon. Rain on the lake was pretty, though, even at midnight. (Alaska summer, you know.) Maybe cramping on a pad under a roof is cheating, but it kept us dry all night and through breakfast. Hot tub and shower on the way home. All in all, a good shakedown cruise in preparation for next week's adventure. No pictures, though. Maybe next time.

Where's Toto?

On the Fairbanks Evening News today there were reports that people called in last night after the thunderstorm, saying they had seen funnel clouds over Fairbanks. This was reported as "rare". Well, drat. I used to enjoy chasing tornatos in Kansas, at least until I caught one. Are we in Kansas, Toto?

Pondering Il Duce

This impending debate over calling someone a fascist, which has yet to get underway for want of an agreed upon definition, has led me to writings about the practices of Benito Mussolini, and those who followed after him. In attempting to define just what fascism is, I have come across some uncomfortable observations.

I'm not one who likes to throw around labels like fascist, communist, running dog wierdo, or even that most negative of slanderous terms, compassionate conservative. Part of my objection is that in most cases, the terms are without widely held understanding of their definitions. Nevertheless, in the proper circumstances, labels are useful, even essential. People recognize other people, places, things, ideas by comparing them with their own experiences and by categorizing what they see into similar groups. (Yes, Virginia, I can document that.) Translated into everyday terms, if it walks, talks, eats, defecates, and otherwise behaves like a duck, one may as well treat is as a duck, regardless of DNA.

That's why it troubles me to see these little bits of willow fluff piling up like calories at a party. "The White House and eager Republicans", says the NY Times, are attempting to extend the Patriot Act. That, in itself, isn't necessarily bad. Some of that act is useful and valid. It didn't invent secret courts, for example; they had been around a long time. But the enhancers are meeting in secret. It seems that a lot of our legislative actions are happening in secret at both the federal and state levels. I understand the security issues. But there are ways to desensitize that information.

I dislike secret government. I dislike one sided arrangements, where the minority isn't even consulted. I don't care which side practices government in hiding; I dislike it either way.

I'm just getting started. Maybe I'll calm down. Maybe I'll continue. We'll see.