Old News

Blood Moon with Eclipse - End of the world stuff, that is

Rich and Cheryl's News




In case you hadn't heard, we got back to town in October. 

And when we landed, there was a thump, big thump. We are adjusting to noise, noise, noise and traffic, traffic, traffic. City living requires more energy and effort when your norm has become quiet and solitude. 

As for Mimi, our cat? She loved her time in the woods, but at heart she is a city cat.


Winter Camp plans are looking a bit messy. In December 2015 we are volunteering with Oregon State Parks at the Otter Crest Lookout Gift Shop, which is located near Cape Foulweather. Then in March 2016 we will volunteer at Hecate Head Lighthouse. Rich will spend three weeks in Haiti in January 2016. Mid May 2016 we hopefully will return to host at Natural Bridge. There is a rumor that the campgrounds in the area may be closed due to of lack of funds. If they do close, Rich and I will punt and host wherever we can.


Looking forward to the 2016 – 2017 season, we will begin choosing winter host sites that have full hook-ups, which make life a whole lot easier. We may stay at a site for one, two or three months. Either way the site(s) would be within a 2 hour drive of Portland so that we can meet with family and friends.


At present, we are keeping our options open and seeing where our hearts guide us. 

Cheryl and Rich

Cost of (Wilderness) Living

Rich's News from Camp Webegone

I had a request to outline the costs of camp hosting. Which is an interesting exercise. 

And I find it difficult. Like home ownership there are costs over and above your day-to-day expenses. I think of the trailer much like a house. You always have repairs. Things wear out. Maintenance happens, and how do you track that without doing averages? I don't think I will have a good idea until we use it for several years. But a wild shot is maintenance is $200 a year.

Utilities are less. Even running the generator in cold weather is less than heating our home in Portland, and certainly the cost of water is much less. (We also use a lot less water). I figure the propane and gas for the generator are around $50 a month and water is the cost of two miles of driving once a week. Of course we spend nothing for our space here. I figured that in Portland my house expenses including utilities was around $500 a month. At least for 4 months we are paying way less. But the trailer depreciates and sometimes houses don't. 

Food expenses are pretty much the same although we have eaten out more often as we take a day to go shopping and have visitors that we go with to restaurants. (Also just to treat ourselves.) During hot days we may be tempted to go to the ice cream store.

Laundry is an expense we did not have. But we do not buy and maintain a washer and dryer… Still, I do think that would end up costing more, normally. But since Cheryl is not doing massage we only to 3-4 loads once a week, whereas at home it was much more because of massage sheets.

So overall, I think living like this is much less expensive, in the long run. But startup is financially intense.

Cheryl's News from Camp Webegone

Besides financial costs, there are emotional and psychological costs. Being away from family and friends for four months is a huge emotional loss/cost. I think of my ancestors who left their family and friends in the 1600's and 1800's and never had contact with them again. I don't know how they managed the grief and longing for physical connection with family and friends. Of course, they may have been focused on an adventure in a new land. What I do know is that for myself I need a different plan. A plan that includes a trip to visit family and friends sometime during the summer.

Hosting at Natural Bridge Campground fully feeds our spiritual selves. On sunny warm days spending our time outdoors nourishes our spirit. On rainy cold days, when Rich and I are confined inside our 18-foot trailer, those aspects of our personalities that are opposite flash up right in our faces. No going off to an office to work to escape. No going to a different room in the house to create space and separation. No way to avoid those pesky differences. For Rich and I these relationship issues are a work in progress. A work in progress looking at winter confined within a small room (the trailer). Stay tuned.

There are environmental costs also. There is absolutely no recycling available. With each glass container put in the garbage, a whimper of sadness. With each tin can, a shudder. With milk and such containers, a plea for forgiveness. And there is the vast amount of paper we burn. It is really hard. I've considered saving all the recycling, bringing it back to Portland, and recycling it in the fall. The image of the pickup truck filled with four months of recycling instead of food and supplies sobers me up quickly.

We drive a lot more, too. A lot more. Petroleum fumes and ancient dinosaurs spew out our exhaust pipe. Rich and I will need to lead angelic lives to compensate for our summer footprint.

Our Environment

Camp sounds

Rich's News From Camp WeBegone

In our everyday lives, there is sound all around us. The background noise of life. We don't even notice it.

Having now the luxury of time, I often contemplate the variety of sounds we experience here. Earlier today Jay and Cheryl heard a Nuthatch (which I missed). We sat for hours listening to the baby Dippers as they called out for the insects presented by their parent. 

Just sitting here now, a fly buzzes by, and there's a yellow jacket. Plus, high overhead the echoing noise of a helicopter heading out on its way to a fire. 

In the distance, a Raven awk awk awks. And I ponder the many sounds these birds have in their repertoire. - Did you know birds have two voice boxes? 

Now a plane - also probably on fire duty - rushes by. And later, as I quiet my mind, I notice the constant background rush of the Rogue as it flows through a narrow part of the river. A lively chatter, mixed with a whisper of wind in the tree tops.

And there are familiar sounds as well, like the clank of the bicycle as Cheryl goes on a short ride.

Oh, and ah yes! the sounds of meals being prepared. Familiar metallic sounds and the pouring of water. We have gravel roads here, and the crunch of tires and of feet across the gravel is a distinct sound - and one that Mimi usually hears before we do! 

And of course the Mimi sounds. Her mew is quiet, and the reward of a purr when we pick her up or pet her in the morning.

Hwy 62 is a half mile away, so we seldom hear highway noises here. But just now comes the screech of tires on the pavement, echoing all of the way here. Civilization mixed with nature.
Much as is the sounds the squirrels nipping pine cones that fall thump thump to the earth or that clang down on the car.

All of these sounds remind me of the diversity of this forest. Of the great range of sounds we hear here. Of how the trees sometimes crackle in the morning as the sun calls the water to come up to the top. Of the occasional crash of a falling tree - there is a distinct crack crack crack as the trunk breaks and the breaking of limbs and the rumble as it hits the ground. Of how sometimes, with weather changes, we get a stillness - mostly the lack of insect sounds. This stillness might be broken by a clap of thunder, and if lucky the rain fall on our tarps car and tents.

Life here is simple and mostly unhurried. Simplicity allows us these peaceful moment, where we can listen and appreciate this sound-filled life. The rhythm of morning chores. With the chopping of wood and the toting of water comes a zen feeling. 

The only thing that interferes with this feeling is the mind when it gets on with its habit of worry, fear, planning, and guilt - which, once we are aware of it, we can thank it for its input and go back to sitting or reading.

Fritz Perls said that as humans, we have two tasks: doing and being. Our culture supports and expects the doing, but it is not so receptive to the being. And, he concludes, this state of affairs creates human doings rather than human beings.

Be well today. Enjoy the sounds around you.

Rich

Perceptions of Time

Weather Report for 31 May – 6 June

High Temperature: 79.2

Low: 41.7

Humidity: High, 92%. Low, 35 %

Rainfall: .08

Wind gust: unknown. Gauge not set up yet.

 

Rich's New from Camp Webegone

Each time I drive to Prospect, there is a transition that happens when I start driving on Hwy 62. When entering the highway, I must get up to speed with the traffic - which is at least 60 miles an hour. As I speed up, nearing 40 I start to notice it feels really fast. 

That feeling reminds me of coming back from Haiti, which I describe as getting on an on-ramp to a freeway where everyone is going 70 and I am going 25. So it happens here too.

 

Bigfoot Rich

The ability to adapt comes in rapidly. And after a few minutes of driving at 60, it feels normal. And I realize that I have once again entered a new perception of normal. I had though 40 was fast, but now I am traveling 60, and it's normal (and it's still too slow for some of the other travelers on the road).

In Clinic I often would talk about the dance that massage therapists need to do with time. New students often have difficulty adapting to doing a massage in an hour. But doing so is necessary in our culture built around Industrial timeframes.  

The massage therapist must live in Industrial time yet be able to move into what I call organic time in order to do good therapy. Allowing the muscle to let go is an organic process, and the good therapist can monitor the session time and also go into the zone that is organic time. It is all perception.

Meditation takes you into organic time. Those moments in meditation when you are absolutely in the moment. Those beautiful, wonderful moments. It too is a perception.  

But because it is all perception, the moment you notice it, you are not doing it any more. You can intend it to happen, but you cannot make it happen. That too is perception.

So last night, sitting at the fire lost in the moment of making fire and the process of keeping it flaming, Cheryl asks what I am thinking. I was not thinking that I was in a Fire moment. But I was. It is a relaxing place. 

Perception of time changes often here in camp. Our morning routine is a structure that we embrace. And in the structured routine, we enter into a kind of trance. A trance we create that helps us get things done. And the time here seems to evaporate, and we suddenly find ourselves at the end of the day, and just how did that happen without us noticing, and what day is it anyway?

I think living in Industrial time is very stressful. Part of that stress is about preparing for the future, a preparation often driven by fear. Will I have enough resources (money fuel food etc.) to survive? What will happen to my family?

That is one end of the spectrum. The other end is thinking about time from the perspective of aging. Listening to someone on radio talk about being in his 70s and noting that for someone in their 20s, their perception of their life is ahead. They have 60 years ahead (they hope) and just 20 behind. The 70 year old has 20 ahead (they really hope) and 70 behind. So naturally the focus shifts. 

And how did I get here so fast? And it was fast and now 20 years seems like it is rushing forward....Time keeps on slippin slippin into the future...

But that is all it is...a perception....

The Theme: Minor Disasters

(Editor's Note: no date included on this one, but I'm guessing it's from the 22nd-24th. Enjoy!)

Rich's News From Camp Webegone 2015

At last, we set off on our return to camp hosting at Natural Bridge. However, a series of minor problems has been the theme of our journey. 

First, the Hitch wheel was on the pavement and I could not move the trailer until I jacked up the pickup hitch. That one wasn't too big a deal, but it continues...

Second, the black water tank did not empty. And it still has not. Theory is, it is blocked by paper... The solution? Wait 'til it clears, or get a honey bucket to suck it out....

Third, the electric lift for the hitch stopped and would not come back on.... Then it did... No idea why.... 

Fourth, same dance with the refrigerator (although this one might be due to user error, as the fridge does not work according to its directions, so we may have simply forgotten our old steps to get it running).

Fifth, the generator won't start. This one is not minor, to say the least. Without it, we would have batteries for a few days, but after that: no electricity, no water pump, etc. 

So, I get to work on the generator. And I do get it to start, but it will only run for a few minutes. Theory: clogged filter or carburetor. Unfortunately, no place to work with it in the rain... Solution: a trip to Medford to fix it. We head over, but no one wants to work on it as it is hard to find parts.... Final solution: buy a Honda generator (which I should have done in the first place....) Will fix the other generator on some lazy sunny afternoon. 

Sixth, the heater in trailer does not start.... Then it does.... And had the same dance with the water pump. etc. etc. 

As tough as it sounds, though, through it all, we experience the simple joy of being here in our summer hang-out. To us, all these problems seem just minor bumps in the road. We will get through.

In other news, our first days are very very wet. But it is now dry, and we are back in the the swing of it all. In many ways, it feels like we never left. 

We are meeting some familiar campers, and some newcomers. There was a camper who is an accomplished musician, and a German couple joined us as we listened to the musician and sang along. We all had lots of fun singing old country songs. - Just one of those spontaneous moments strangers can create.

And we went a-visiting: to our favorite tree, and to Natural Bridge, and to the trail, and to the library (where we order an apple pie from the librarian....) It is indeed good to be home. 

Yes, this is home now, for us. Which has created some interesting conversations. "Where are you from?" they ask. 

Hmmm. 

"Well, we sold my house, and we're living in our trailer. I guess wherever my trailer is is where I am from." 

Funny how things change.

Rich.

PS: Since we went a-visiting, here is a video of one our favorite spots on the Rouge River.

 

Moving Out, Moving On

RICH'S NEWS FROM CAMP WEBEBACK: The process of preparing for our next camp-hosting adventure continues.

 
So, now I am in the final stages of getting ready to sell my house. Which involves letting go of 36 years of living here. (Well, it's actually more like 30 years of occupying the space, what with extended stays away.)

 
Leaving brings up a mixed feeling. Primarily it is one of relief at the excising of all of the costs and responsibilities. I have thought of my home as my retirement system, and earlier this year I realized that is just what I am doing – retiring. Except for some short one-day classes now and then, I will be finished with my classes at OSM. That is another 30-year connection I am letting go of.

 
Looking back, home ownership has been a wonderful, stable element in my life that has provided me with many opportunities that I would otherwise have found hard to do. This home has been good to me, and it has been a haven for many ex-residents. But now the house is becoming more and more expensive as it ages. (Actually, it has always required work, just a lot moreso now.)

 
The downside of letting go of the house is the loss of stability from knowing that even if everything falls apart, I have a home. Even if it was only an illusion of stability, it was still a comforting illusion. But now that comforting stability of owning a house will for the time being be replaced by a trailer. Still a home, just more mobile is all.

 
So far, what has eased my mind is that I will be able to establish a home base with Nisa, Julianna and Frazier. A place for the trailer to come to. A traveling mother-in-law (father-in law) (grandpa-in law) cottage.

 
The process of selling the house is, at the moment, quite stressful – figuring out all the things to move or sell or trash or give away. An accumulation of such wondrous things as hundreds of screws, nails, and odds and ends of wires and other stuff I have saved (horded?) over the years. As well as tons of wires, cables, electronic gadgets transformers connecting to ...??? Since you never know when you might need an extra float for the toilet. Right?

Problem is, I forget I have it or can't find it when I need it.

 
The biggest realization I have had is that the attachment to much of the stuff is memories. Every time I look at a certain plate or afghan, I think of my mother or Aunt Norma or ….. But, that memory fades as I let go of those things the memory triggers. Pictures can alleviate that a bit, but I am a kinestetic (hmm, that word is not in my spell check!) person. I need that touch.

Interesting bit of information from my realtor: When getting rid of things, have someone else pick them up, because when we touch it, it increases our likelihood we will not let it go. I understand that feeling.

In the end, it will be sad to let the house go, but a relief and a joy that someone else will create a space here that will sustain them, just as it has me. Though one fear I have is that a developer decides to demolish it. I would hate to see my home replaced by one of the many characterless modern houses being built in this neighborhood. Such things do happen around here a lot. Usually on double lots, but there are no guarantees for my single lot.

 
Still, letting go. I must let go of my attachment to the house and what happens to it. There is the Buddhist realization that the source of human suffering is attachment. I must let go.

When I went to Haiti I knew that part of the reason for my going was to get out of the trance that was my current life. Going there certainly did just that. And this move feels very similar to me. I will be moving into a new way of life, once again leaving the trance of this one.

And then there is age. As I near 70 it becomes abundantly clear I do not have the luxury of time. Like my brother said when my dad – who was 78 at the time – asked him about getting remarried. My brother told me his first thought was: "Don't rush into it." And then he thought, "Hell, he is 78. Why not rush into it?"

 
Yes, so why not rush into it?

Last summer being a camp host took me out of the sedentary life that I had fallen into here in this house. The experience was so good for me in physical, emotional and spiritual ways. From that experience, I can sense that it is time to move on. Perhaps it is not the style of retired life that we all have in our minds when we are younger. But that traditional vision always seemed too not me anyway.

I may not have had the vision of retiring into the life a of a camp host, but looking out upon the path now, as I prepare to embark upon it, it is but another a step along the path of service that has always been imprinted in my bones. 

I look forward to closing this chapter of my life and embracing the next. The road beckons in May.

An Unexpected Ending Adventure

NEWS FROM CAMP WEBEGONE

It's been quite a past four months, in this trial run for our big year-long camp-hosting journey in 2015, but this first leg is at last coming to a close. However, as we begin gearing up for the last week of the our first camp hosting effort, we're in for a surprise.

CHERYL'S NEWS

On morning rounds one day, I noticed a cat wandering around at one of the campsites. 

After asking around if someone had lost a cat, and finding none, I eventually realized that the cat had been abandoned in the campground. Julianna was staying with us at the time and the three of us tried to rescue the cat. 

But, since our site is away from the rest of the camp, the cat was hanging around where there was the most food debris, far from us, so we were not able to rescue the cat ourselves. 

Eventually, though, one of the campers befriended the cat and brought her to our site.

She was very thin and very friendly. When she arrived, she was so hungry that she quickly nabbed and swallowed whole - without tasting - a piece of pineapple, moving too quick for Rich to respond. 

Little Podunk is what we called her. She obviously wasn't feral, but used to being around humans. 

Rich and I thought she was pregnant, as her teats were developed. Rich "the great hunter" stalked her to her lair in the woods, and there he discovered some four-week-old kittens, or thereabouts. Huge emotional upset for me.

So, now we have a cat and three kittens to rescue. First step: accustom the three kittens to us in the short time before we leave, so we can rescue them before then. One of the kittens, a dark calico, is particularly wary of us, and we know that we may not be able to rescue her in time. 

But, one step at a time. 

Rich and I sit at their lair for about an hour 2-3 times each day. During this process Little Podunk moved the kittens. So, we have to start over. Again, Rich "the great hunter" discovers the lair. We are not going to be able to get close to this one. The kittens are now a week older and easier to engage. The light calico is the most adventurous.

After watching me for a while, she wanders over close, though not close enough to touch - daring the big beast. Then circled back to momma. The next day she sat under my chair for a short time. 

I found a likely stick to entice them to play. They were not the least interested in string, though Little Podunk would play with it. So we played stick with them for a couple days. 

Then came the day to rescue them. In the morning I am able to rescue the light calico, receiving only a few scratches. With Rich's help we put her in a backpack, and I took her to the trailer. In the afternoon I am able to rescue the tabby kitten while playing stick with him. The dark calico will not come near us at all now. The next day, Thursday, we take Little Podunk, light calico and the tabby to a no-kill shelter in Medford. We cry.

After rescuing the tabby kitten, we did not see the dark calico. It has been over 24 hours and we wondered if the kitten became a snack for one of the other creatures that live in the area. 

Friday comes, we are packed and ready to head out to La Pine. I suggest we go to the lair and bit farewell to the unrescued kitten. We both have very heavy hearts and liquid eyes. As we approach the lair, Rich says he sees her! Joy, hope, but also despair. Because there is still the possibility that we will not be able to rescue her. 

It is obvious that she will not come close to us. We stay another day and wonder just how many days it will take to rescue this little shy one.

RICH'S NEWS

So now we had this very reluctant kitten, and one of the skills I learned in Haiti was how to trap a particular annoying mouse who was waking me at night knocking stuff off my shelves. This mouse was partial to popcorn kernels, so I put some in a metal bowl, put that in a basin, put a board over the top with just enough room for the mouse to get in and waited with a string attached to simply pull it over the basin. 

Peace Corps has lasting impact. 

Using this same technique I rigged a small cat carrier my brother gave us, putting food inside and a few nibbles leading to the carrier and string attached to the door. Knowing the kitten was VERY hungry, we spent Saturday morning waiting for her to get up the courage to go into the carrier. 

It took some enticing with food and the passage of time, but eventually the kitten did enter the carrier, and Cheryl pulled the door shut. I had taken a walk after my morning sit with string in hand, and when I returned, found Cheryl has rescued the kitten and is walking to our trailer with carrier in hand. We were excited, relieved and trying to sort the rest of the emotions this rescue had brought to us.

CHERYL'S NEWS

Saturday Morning

Sitting in a camp chair about seven yards away from the carrier with string in hand, playing the waiting game, asking for help from the universe, the kitten approaches the carrier again. This time she does not glance my way and fully enters the carrier. To this day I do not know how I walked the yards to the carrier and kept the string taut so the door stayed closed. When I closed the carrier door, the kitten launched herself at the door. When I got there she was tooth and claw at the door. 

But I knew that reuniting her with her momma will ease her trauma. Rich and I eat lunch and then drive to the cat shelter, delivering the last kitten. All three kittens and their momma now safely rescued. 

We then drive to La Pine. It was an exhausting, emotional two weeks with which to end our stay at Camp Webegone. Whew!

Storage and the Happy Hooker

RICH'S NEWS FROM CAMP WEBEGONE

We have found that even though we have a small trailer, storage has not been a problem. 

Part of that has been that Cheryl has surrounded the trailer with hooks. Hooks for clothes, hooks for measuring cups, hooks for keys, hooks for kitchen stuff, hooks for hats, hooks for towels etc. etc. and a shoe hanger on the bathroom door that has various sundry stuff (24 cubbyholes). Cheryl just said, “we need more hooks”! 

The microwave and oven have also been put to use as storage, as we don't use them. A small cupboard above the sink with a Bi-Mart purchase of stand-alone shelves has provided ample storage. A catch-all large space with shelves added has provided convenient access, strategic boxes next to the couch etc. etc. 

All together, it does get messy quickly, but the storage has been ample. We have now figured out how to prop up the storage under the bed, as it was hard to use. Always, it's a work in progress. 

But we still need more hooks.

Cheryl Winegar, Happy Hooker