It's Official

A Favorite Spot on the Rogue River

Cheryl's News

Rich and I received the official nod of approval today. We will be volunteer campground hosts at Natural Bridge Campground during the summer of 2015! 

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.

Geriatric Gypsies in 2015

NEWS FROM CITY LIFE

2014 has come to a close. And now Rich and I are eagerly a new camp hosting adventure in May - hopefully at Natural Bridge Campground, but where is still up in the air.

Neskowin River

In order to refresh our brain cells in using the trailer, Rich and I took a short trip to an RV park at Neskowin. It may sounds silly, but there is a lot to remember. (Mostly for Rich to remember.) 

One of our tasks on this trip was to figure out how to light the gas oven. We may have used it back in March, during our first experiments with the trailer. But then again, we may never have used the oven. We don't remember. Geriatric gypsies, after all.

Anyway, after many attempts, we achieve success in getting the oven lit. Whew! What an ordeal. You see, in order to get it lit, you have to reach under a 2 ½ inch space - not an easy thing if you don't have dainty hands - and the pilot light is located toward the very back of the oven. It took us both and a flashlight to light it. One of us holds the lighter and the other manipulates the knob. I had a vision of both our heads of hair igniting. 

There was no igniting hair. Instead, we had a great fish dinner.

Rich and sunset at Welcoma Beach

Left in the trailer after the summer's adventure was a beautiful great horned owl feather, which triggered memories of our four months at Natural Bridge. My spirit, my energy, my thoughts are beginning to drift and linger toward camp hosting at Natural Bridge. Already, I can sense that it is going to be a challenge for me to stay present in Portland and focused on work during the months ahead until we leave to camp host again in May.

Cheryl and Neskowin River

What may help me stay present is the fact the Rich is going to sell his home - the home he has lived in for over half his life. 

What that means for me is - I lose a lot of storage space! Which means that there is a lot of stuff I need to sort through and decide whether to recycle, pass on, sell or put in storage. ...What do you do with family stuff, furniture passed down from the grandparents, a coffee table my maternal grandfather made from trees in his backyard? Keep, pass on or sell? Some decisions are clear, others not so. I figure that 80% of my stuff will need to be recycled, passed on or sold. 

80%.

It is a bit daunting. But as the Haitian proverb goes (or at least how Rich remembers it): bit by bit the little bird builds its nest, bit by bit I am building my new nest.

Bit by bit, I will figure out what to do with 80% of my stuff.

Cheryl

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!

Close Encounters of the Black Bear Kind

CHERYL'S NEWS FROM CAMP WEBEGONE

**Wednesday, September 17, 2014**

One day, while we were walking through a decommissioned campground in search of a nearby hot springs, Rich notices a bear coming down a trail, just a ways off to the left of where we are walking. 

It's a bear cub, and it's playfully bounding to some destination or other. A real cutey. Shortly afterwards, the cub's momma comes into view. 

This is my first bear sighting ever. 

They are magnificent beasts in their natural environment. Rich has had many sightings - he thinks about ten. He is very calm around them. Not me.

The destination of the two bears was for water. There was an old horse-watering-trough up there, and the spigot leaked water on the ground.

Since it is a momma and cub, I tell Rich we should quickly head on our way - yes, I was being a real Nervous Nelly. I get my way, and we abandon the hunt for the hot springs. Walking back, we make lots and lots of noise.

For me, this bear sighting will be a lasting memory.

 (Here is a photo from Paulina Falls, near the area of the black bear encounter.)

Geriatric Gypsies At Work

CHERYL'S NEWS FROM CAMP WEBEGONE

The Gypsy Mobile Maintenance Vehicles

Ready to Roll

Rich and I have enjoyed our volunteer service work at Natural Bridge Campground. On average we each work about 2-3 hours each day. On our two days off each week we do evening rounds, but only to check that everyone in camp has paid. We have looked at the work aspect as a service we are providing to the campers. It is much easier to clean pit toilet “blow outs” when it is a service you are providing, and not a task you are being paid for.

Cheryl, hazmat-ready to clean up a “blow out” at a pit toilet.

The best part of the work is the campers we have met. Most are from the Medford area. Many attended Grants Pass High School around the time Rich was a student there. A handful of campers were from the Portland Metro area, one couple lives about a mile and a half as the crow flies from our Portland home.

Rich and I were inspired by one extended family, sons and daughters of an aging father, who came with their spouses. Twice they brought their aging father, who has Parkinsons and a bit of dementia, up to fish and camp. Natural Bridge Campground is one of his favorite places to fish.

The eldest campers to come were in their nineties. That is not a typo. As they aged they modified their camping experience from backpacking and hiking to a Westfalia camper van and less strenuous 2-3 mile hikes. They are a good role model for us and a true inspiration.

The youngest camper was six weeks old. The second youngest were two month old twins. I doubt I would choose to camp with a six-week-old, and two month-old twins, never. I am such a wimp.

Our Camp

NEWS FROM CAMP WEBEGONE

In case you were wondering what Camp Webegone looked like.

A panorama view.

Master bedroom. 

Safe House. Safe from mosquitoes, yellow jackets and bald-faced hornets.

Healing Arts Tent, Meditation Space and Exercise Room.