Friend to Friend: 10/25/19

Autumn Jaunts

Before the snow flies, and travelling becomes less viable,

we have been hitting the road to enjoy the season.

Here’s a little story, taken from an email I wrote,

about one of our recent excursions.

Recently David and I came upon an obscure country road which we had mused we would explore one day. As we stared at the turnoff, It seemed that that day had arrived. A while back David had asked a local man about this road. Ya, it goes to Monte Creek. Oh… it’s about 17 km. Just make sure you stay on the main road. There are a lot of crossroads. What he didn’t mention was the condition of the road. But then he was sitting in a truck as he talked to us.

Pretty soon the road dwindled, from a fairly wide, well graded one to a gravelly, bumpy one lane mystery tour. Scrubby forest, swamps, a few open areas, abandoned barns, shed and cabins. A few raindrops started falling. At various points we passed massive clear cutting in the middle of nowhere, and held our breath as we chugged through some muddy sections where the road was ripped up by logging trucks. That prompted some nail-biting. I cheered David’s manoevres through these mucky parts, he was really good at it. Geared down, took the highest, often less used ways that were also onto brush on the side of the road,-- riding high ridges on at least 2 wheels. Sometimes the undercarriage scraped over packed dirt. Human habitations no longer in sight. David wondered if we should turn around and avoid getting stuck out there with no cell service. The one encouraging thing was that there was evidence of tire tracks in the mud and gravel; humans had come this way before, and even recently! Most likely in trucks and four by fours vehicles I thought darkly!! And yes, there were those enticing side roads that we were passing, similar in appearance, some even in slightly better condition! Those were the trickiest times, where we had to stop to make consequential decisions... was that THE road to follow or a road to… maybe someone"s house? Obviously a hermit. Who had no phone. And no neighbours.

Definitely no signs were given. We noted that we seemed to be travelling in the right direction, into a familiar valley. We’d be encouraged and then the road would take a turn that disqualified it as hopeful. We hoped that at least we’d see a bear for our efforts.

But no bears appeared. We had seen a few isolated farm holdings especially earlier on the way. Seeing these places always makes me imagine. What would it be like to live out in the wilds? How differently would the day go? Forget checking your iPhone first thing in the morning. Perhaps satellite service, but I imagined not having any internet. Maybe not even a cell phone. Wood heat. No trips to the corner store for cream. Maybe some chickens, even a cow. And a truck with a plow. You’d have to plow your driveway and maybe the road. How to earn income? Raise some beef cattle? Heavy equipment operator for the logging we saw? Who is doing that? How would values evolve? Interested in American politics? Not likely.

I often wonder about those living in very different lifestyles than our urban one. The consciousness would be quite different, used to silence, more attuned to the natural world around. Slower. Less superficial attention. Grounded, focused on what is right at hand, right in front of you, in all those slowed down moments.

Well we didn’t see a bear. With great relief I spotted a big sign over a road entrance reading Paxton Valley Ranch. Yes, we were in the right valley. Small signs on trees began measuring off km’s, 10, 9 etc. I’d cheer (with too much enthusiasm!) whenever we came to the next one. It seemed a long time between signs. Who knows why these signs had been posted? And what did they mean, really?

Very slowly civilization emerged. First older cabins or dark, weathered wooden houses with collapsed sheds, abandoned cars. Old paddocks. Then some mobile homes. Then newer mobile homes. Then painted bungalows. Then larger ranch houses with RV’s and trampolines for kids. And suddenly boing, we were travelling on blessed pavement and rolling into Monte Creek. Houses were definitely clumped close to town. These people wanted to know they could buy cream!!

We later discovered that one of our tires had suffered and produced a slow leak, the result of its rigours. But it was such a fun hour or so, bumping out each mile or km, taking strategic routes through mud, visually noting that we were headed in the right direction (eyes stayed on the hills beyond), sending slightly doubtful but hopefully encouraging smiles to one another! Doing it together. There was something invigorating about it, the joy of navigating into the, seemingly, unknown together. And each knowing the other was up for it.