Category Archives: Road Trip

Road Trip- Carlsbad Caverns

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Carlsbad Caverns is one of my sacred places. On my first visit it felt familiar to me. On my second visit it was like coming home. I love the descent into the cavern. I love the rich, dank air. I love the space that surrounds me as I walk down into the depths of a womb in the earth.

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I am taken by the intricate detail found inside.

Popcorn ceilings

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Bacon strips clinging to the wall

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Draperies fit for a castle

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A single delicate bell cord dangling from the ceiling

The bell cord is just barely visible in the middle of the picture. A single strand hanging from the ceiling.

The bell cord is just barely visible in the middle of the picture. A single strand hanging from the ceiling.

Pull it and who knows who you will summon.

Lion’s tail

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Whale’s mouth

I love the history. A lone man in the desert seeing the bats in the distance and following them. Reaching a spot where he felt a rush of air coming from an opening in the land. Hanging down into the hole and reaching the end of his rope. Dropping into a black abyss and discovering a wonderland that his eyes could not behold. I could spend hours, days, months, years or moments in this space and feel right at home. Sitting, staring, listening.

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It is hard to grasp the scale. Features look gigantic and minute at the same time. A moment of complete darkness might last an eternity. Take the King’s Palace tour and experience this moment of pitch black that makes you ask, What if? What if I were trapped here with no light? Sooner or later one guest on the tour gets quite uncomfortable and asks for the lights to be turned back on.

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The first day that Mike and I spent in the cave, we acted like tourists with the hand held talky wand. We barely spoke and when we did it was in hushed whispers. Silence fills the immense space and this place is timeless.

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Air flows steady, temperature regulates, everything about this cavern is calm, serene, peace. The only noise is drip, drip, drip. Maybe the sound of shuffling feet and an occasional gasp, squeal or whisper from a visitor captivated by the life that still resides in this womb.

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Road Trip- Tecopa Hotsprings

After a surreal day in Death Valley, we are ready to rest. Pulling into the campground at Tecopa Hotsprings I am reminded of an old, abandoned drive-in theatre. RV Hookups look like the speakers for listening to the movie on the big screen. Bathroom buildings resemble concession stands. It is dusk and only the outlines of the area are visible.

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We secure a spot to set up our tent. No sleeping in the back of the truck tonight. We crave relaxation and healing water of hot springs. The hot springs are sacred. No clothes allowed. Separate pools for ladies and gentlemen. The mineral soak is welcome. A hot shower feels divine after days on the road.

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The wind sneaks in and whips the tent. A restless sleep, but I feel fresh in the morning. We wake to a rocky hill with a cross on top and decide to hike. It is called Mary’s Hill. A place for prayer and reflection.

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The moments we cherish on this journey are simple, yet profound. Standing on a mound of rocks in the middle of the desert taking in the rugged reality that life offers. Trying to get a little dog to cooperate for a timed photo. Immortalizing our commitment to spending 4 months on the road, and taking in this land that will leave the landscape of our relationship richer.

 

Road Trip- Death Valley

Driving from Mt Whitney to Death Valley, the road descends onto a godforsaken landscape. It is flat, barren- carrying a false sense that it is devoid of life. If a visitor is willing to continue past this point, the desolation eventually bursts into one of the most mesmerizing places on earth. We were willing.
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I never dreamt I would fall prey to the rapture of the desert. I never imagined the dryness of this place would seep into my soul, wetting an appetite for the harsh, extreme, stark beauty that exists in a Valley of Death. The road plastered to the earth stretches for miles. The asphalt runs in dips and bumps.

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At times the road is completely covered. Weather compels the desert to encroach, making travel difficult or impossible. The desert wants it’s solitude back. It wants to remove the passage that allows travelers to visit.  Earth piles up all around. A larger than life bulldozer pushed and pushed until towers of etched hills formed. Water and wind work to break them down. The earth wants it’s earth back. Back to the valley floor it comes in the most interesting ways.

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In this dry place, water is the driving force for change. The texture, colors and depth are a whirlpool of wonder swirling- asking me to stay for days, weeks, months. There is too much to see. Too much to experience. Looking closely, the details are here and there. They are everywhere. Particularly, in the Devil’s Golf Course. In each space, around every corner, there is a whole new world. A world teaming with life found nowhere else.

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Artist’s Loop creeps up. The colors are powdery pastels. Mixed with water they will paint the landscape. The loop clearly shows how water can rush in every crack and crevice or wash over everything.

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Heat is the core of this place. Temperatures cook in the summer months. Volcanoes played a part in its creation. Craters remain to tell the story.

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We stumble upon an unexpected surprise. Although it doesn’t always appear so, water is ever present in the desert. A castle is a fitting symbol in an oasis that provides life for anyone daring enough to travel this landscape.

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We long to go in. We will have to wait. Light and warmth diminish quickly in the winter desert. Driving through the dark looking for a campsite is a daunting task. At our last stop, Zabrieski Point, where the sunset is divine we meet a couple who tells us about Tecopa Hotsprings. Tecopa will be our resting place. Camping for the night, we meet another element that drives the desert.

 

 

 

 

Road Trip- Mt Whitney

Four month road trip. A wild idea born in my imagination during a moment of freedom.

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Stars aligned perfectly, providing opportunity for escape. Traveling from coast to coast and back again, a total of 13,000+ miles added to our Ford Ranger.

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Mt Whitney. The campground was perfect- empty and free. Not the warmest time of year for camping at the base of a stone monstrosity. Being hardy campers we made due.  The solitude of this area filled me with a sense of longing. One that I search for to this day and occasionally find in odd places. The weather was not cooperative to summit. Through a bit of exploring we found “movieland” in the Alabama Hills.

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This is the kind of trip that solidifies a relationship- binding it in communion that never breaks or leads to one partner abandoning the journey to never look back.

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