Part 2 "Why Plan Ahead, When You Can Wait 'Till Now?"

June 15, Monday Evening

In what would have taken a Klondike Stampeder a month or two, I traversed in only a matter of hours. By way of the White Pass and Yukon Railway, which now in its’ restored state is primarily an out and back tourist run, I was transported, complete with jostling rail cars, and loud clickity-clack, up and over White Pass to Fraser, Canada. There, the masses of cruise ship tourists, boarded busses for the return to Skagway, while I was the only one left at the station and boarded a later bus, only half filled, which continued on through Carcross, then terminating at Whitehorse, Yukon. I enjoy the friendly, yet brief conversations and helpful advice while interacting with others on my path, but always when I end up walking alone, or bypassing a social campground scene to instead wander off to find solitude for the night, I am always comforted by the companionship of little birds or Ravens, or even the insects, and of course the trees and flowers, with this evenings’ music of lake shore water lapping a few feet away while my bivy camp is cozy and discreet…







June 16, Tuesday Evening

Light pitter-pattering of precipitation on my bivy bag awakened me from some strange dream, and as I have been lying down for the night in so many varieties of places lately, it actually took a few seconds to register where I was. Then, bright as late morning, I looked at my watch to see that it was 4am Yukon time, and 3am on the dial of my Alaskan time zone. Reorganizing and covering my things, then tucking back in deep to the nylon and Gore-Tex cocoon, as much for protection of persistent mosquitoes then wetness, I chuckled to myself about the first night back in Bellingham awaiting the next days’ ferry, when I was up with a jolt around 1am by the park sprinklers which gave my bivy bag a good soaking ‘till I drug it all away to a dry spot… So the day here in Whitehorse has been wet, steadily so much that my hitching period only lasted an hour on the north side of town before I caved in retracing the few miles and dried out in the library. I’ll have another bivy camp somewhere tonight and spend more dough on a bus to Tok at 6am tomorrow. It’s all good and part of the divine I remind myself, there’s no time, only timing, which is perfectly endless…




June 17, Wednesday Evening

My God, how could I have known anything other than the vague yet persistent Truth that I am very guided, supported, protected, and blessed!! With this morning’s awakening next to a picnic table under roof cover, feeling a bit urban bum-like due to traffic noise and proximity to town, I wondered sleepily what gem this day might present. The multi-hour van ride was good from the start with only two other passengers and a whole bench seat for myself, swimming merrily away from the rainy morning, passing a walking hitcher near where I was yesterday, which could have been me this morning. The one foreign backpacker was left at Haines Junction, then Robert the cook stayed at Burwash Lodge, while I leaped at the phone book and called the little breakfast place where I think my walking stick stayed as I walked away hurriedly to the van. I became attached to this sturdy, smooth piece of wood found on the path to Mendenhall glacier after carving some symbols into it while camped at Sturgills’ in Skagway, becoming sentimentally valuable, and now providing the lesson of “letting go”. So, in its’ place I received a large gift from Dave, the driver, who, after some time of interesting conversation, graciously offered me the use of his cabin-home in Tok, where I now sit, ever so amazed and comfortable on the couch. A cabin to myself in the woods of Alaska where I can kick it, read and listen through some of his extensive tape collection, while amazed again at just how creative the Universe and Great Spirit get when given the ingredients of an open schedule, an open mind, willingness for adventure to the unknown, and the void in which to manifest experiential joy! With certainty of nothing but divine synchronicity, I venture forth, guided, supported, protected, and blessed…



June 18, Thursday Evening

A day of rest, and of reading, and of feeding, of mind, body, soul… A day of contemplation from the indoor perspective, and that of contrast. Waking to the depth of softness provided by the couch, ranks as far less appealing than firm forest floor, or even picnic table for that matter, especially as the walls of a solid structure isolate one from the outside environment with fresh air, birdsong, and all else happening in the “natural” world. Shelter from the elements is not un-natural, just disconnecting and something like self-imprisonment. I would not say being indoors is not preferred at times, just highly overrated and over utilized. Still, I enjoyed the time with reading and playing various cassette tapes from the large collection here, and have picked up on the feelings of this diversions’ purpose. An opportunity to envision certain similarities of past home life in Colorado, when the boys were young, and our family intact, reminiscing years of a good many experiences for us all. Now, on my own, I like the freshness of new scenery and surroundings so much that wandering freely seems to suit me best. On the road, as I am, to explore the world and allow myself the changing direction of winds and the flow of tides, adrift in the conscious cosmos…



June 19, Friday Night

Such a feeling of freedom welled up from within, to produce the glowing smile on my face, as I stood with thumb extended on arm raised high, accompanied with my little cardboard sign for my destination of Slana, the energy attracted a ride quite quickly. The big rig, with empty flat bed trailer slowly came to a stop and I opened the door, lifted my pack way up and in, and off we went. Riding high above the asphalt at a casual speed, we talked of the rapidly increasing ills of modern society, and the divine leveling of these imbalances soon to come, with worse leading to better eventually. Dark, brooding rain clouds adding dramatic effect to the stark wilderness, so far removed from politics and urban congestion, I gratefully recognized yet another helping soul on my journey, as the truck pulled away leaving me happy to be alive and well, to walk towards Huck Hobbits’ Homestead several miles down the Nabesna road, while the gentle rain of the clearing storm blessed my path of an empty road. After a mile of joyful walking and only the second car to be going my way, I hopped in to another kind souls’ transportation to shorten the walk. Three miles later I got out where the gravel ended and mud began at a small creeks’ bridge. Rejoicing in the wide open wilderness and parting clouds, following this muddy track through the stunted, scraggly Black Spruce of this northern permafrost forest, I arrived at the home of Joy and Steve Hobbes, to the smells of fresh baked cookies, and kind welcoming hospitality. Though a tent site was only 5 dollars, I could hardly decline this sweet little cabin for 20 dollars as better shelter from the marauding mosquitoes, and a far fresher, cozy indoor feeling than the stuffy Tok cabin. Though it is now 11 o’clock at “night”, there is no indication of darkness, yet I will now sweetly slumber away in more divine luxury provided by such benevolent Spirit, as is the guiding presence on my blessed journey. By myself, yet not alone, I travel with confidence that all is beautifully just as it should be…
June 20, Saturday Night

A magical mystery tour through time, space, and trust, as this day of traveling unfolded. Beginning with a very restful sleep in the little cabin, a much appreciated shower, and the viewing of an Alaskan wilderness video with guitar music played by Steve Hobbes. Then, a freshly baked cinnamon roll from Joy, and drive out to the highway by Steve, finished off a very pleasant stay with a glimpse into the lives of these homesteaders. The traffic was indeed minimal going both directions, especially my way, but I was quite surprised when the first 3 hours passed and still no one had stopped for me. Many pages and a few chapters later, along with a few sprinkles, many dark clouds passing and a bit of blessed sunshine, I stood in awe of timeless synchronicity. At 5 ½ hours, I stuffed my pack in the back of Ed’s fully filled truck, and my body in the passenger seat of the cab stuffed with stuff. He’d been driving straight through from Salt Lake City, Utah, heading to his summer place, still 500 miles further away. A cabinet maker for over 30 years, our hour drive conversation revolved around woodworking, and at Glennallen, where I got out, he proudly showed to me the beautiful wood counter top he made and brought to install in his place. A micro-waved meal of 2 breakfast burritos at the mini-mart and I was back on the asphalt by 8pm, still bright as mid-day and under mostly clear skies, I figured to try for a ride further on down the road. Another hour passed and my sights were set on finding a place to camp, then resume hitching in the morning, when, at the precise moment of surrendering, another fully loaded pick-up pulled over and I climbed in ever so gratefully, to be driven by Mark going to his river guide job, accompanied with his girl Theresa, possessing strikingly beautiful blue eyes. We talked of rafting, bears, and mosquitoes until my turn off road came and I got out, shouldered my pack and audibly expressed gratitude to Spirit for such an amazing day of travel, fine people, and opportunity to practice patience. Standing at a crossroad, with several hours of road still ahead, I happily head towards a lake shimmering beyond some trees. Following an old overgrown track, I come upon the relics of some torn apart bicycles and other debris, but looking like there has been no recent activity, I smoothed out a spot under a tree only 20 feet from lake shore. Then, with only 2 seconds for fear to develop, a Wolf appears, coming straight for me, only to be greeted by a most friendly canine messenger, with tail happily wagging, indicating I was safe here, travels done for the day and blessed as always…



June 21, Summer Solstice Night

Dawn happens while still asleep, 5am brings full daylight, and a mirror surface on the lake reflects clear sky. I’m standing at the crossroads by 6am, warmed and smiling under a Solstice Sun, peaceful stillness fosters tranquil gratitude within my soul. Bounding happily towards me come the 2 dogs from last nights’ visit, the Wolf girl and her pal, a more domestic looking short hair breed, both greeting me with loving happiness, and I blissfully grateful to reciprocate this love. For half an hour we three visited, exchanging furry massage for unconditional love, and when the time came, they trotted away without looking back, without any attachment, while I overflowed to tears from the pure message delivered by these loving Spirit beings. Minutes later, Neil, the Chitna NPS Ranger stops, then delivers me to precisely where I wanted to be, and sets me up with info for my hike. Very soon after thumbing for the continuation to McCarthy, Mike and Theresa, with their 2 teen boys, allow me into the truck bed filled with camp gear, and I get a windy, dusty, happy ride with photo stops and a sandwich over the entire 60+ miles of gravel road, delivering me to precisely where I wanted to be. The Fatherly Sun provided immense love, kindness, support, and blessings for me today, and I am elatedly humbled to my core…



June 22, Monday Evening

Almost too exhausted to write, after such a day of energy spent to cover the 7 or more miles to where I now rest. Yesterday evenings’ camp at Jumbo Creek, a mile or so beyond the historic Kennecott mill town buildings, was this morning’s launch point for the destination of the “knoll”, far past the end of Root glacier trails’ obvious path. Several miles of walking over the loose and jumbled rocks of lateral moraine, and atop the icy glacier itself, with up and down, zigzag route finding, several very exciting narrow, but deep crevasse jumps, and finally, the last section of steeply inclined, meadow-like vegetation full of wildflowers, then bushwhacking through wet leaved willow thickets to arrive in drizzle high above the glacier trunk below. This sub-alpine perch offers a full view of the massive ice fall, which has many thousands of vertical feet elevation drop from the summits now hidden by cloud cover. So elated I am to have the next two days here for full appreciation of this humbling scene…



June 23, Tuesday Evening

As one secret of life is enjoying the passing of time, this day has been sweetly enjoyable by doing very little, and being content to watch clouds cast shadows on the rugged terrain. Most of the sky harbored drifting clouds, white, wispy or moisture laden and dark, showing an occasional window of blue beyond, several times allowing full sun to intensify the colors of flowers and foliage. The massive ice fall, with surrounding peaks lofting high in the obscuring mist, turned from flat lit whitened grays, to pure white and shades of blue when illuminated directly by sunshine. Occasionally at night or day, a rolling, tumbling, thunder noise comes drifting from the Stairway ice fall, telling of a falling mass hidden somewhere in the jumbled maze. Nothing else to do, and nowhere else to be, I rested body by minimal movement, and voice by remaining speechless, meditating in stillness, dumb-struck by the awe of immense, over powering mountain scenery. Fathoming the depth of timeless ages, to which this glacial entity has moved its’ living mass, dwarf’s by perspective all to which mankind has ever achieved in our brief and over glorified existence on Mother Earth…


June 24, Wednesday Evening

Two complete turns on Earths’ axis since setting up camp, as drizzle turned to rain, I now enjoy full sunshine on this west facing slope, as long shadows slowly make headway across the glacier filled valley. Yesterdays’ summit enshrouding clouds vaporized with today’s high arc of sun, through cobalt blue sky that back dropped harsh rock and ice ridgeline, creating a stark contrast of solid Earth, against the blue void of Space. Raw and exposed are the towering rock faces, snow free and black, or marbled by snow encrusted ledges and chutes, between which is the immense cascade of ice, inching its way down to valley floor from several thousands’ of feet above. This pure and naked Earth, caressed by gentle breeze and warm sunlight, inspired me to stand naked before her, allowing the Fatherly Suns’ rays to grace my whole body, as they passed through the atmospheric breath of Mother Earth, energizing my soul and rejuvenating every cell I am composed of. Like the flowers, which adorn this haven of life during the brief summers between frigid winters, I turn to face the life giving sunshine, absorbing all its’ blessedly divine energy and humbly express deep gratitude for the miracle of which I am in the presence of. Such a day of peace and gentleness in this rugged landscape is a blessing indeed, and taken as a gift from the benevolent Universe that I am an inseparable component of, now and for eternity…



June 25, Thursday Night

Early morning twilight dreams gave way to awakening, a quick breakfast, packing up, and ready for the descent, just at the very moment of sunshine greeting my face from over the ridgeline. I walk down and towards the newly illuminated glacier, moving smoothly over rock encrusted ice, then onto pure ice, then loose moraine. Seeing a “shortcut”, directly up a steep angled frozen moraine slope, I opt for this climb on cemented gravels and small rocks. So carefully, one hold for foot or hand at a time, calling on my past climbers’ focus and Angelic protection, I ascend to the top, while un-desiring of looking down at the waiting peril below. Doubtless there was anytime saved, but ever so grateful for the adrenaline filled adventure, I savored each step of the well defined trail which led me back, and away from true wildness. After devouring a celebratory burger, brew and ice cream, then a two hour drowsy wait on the gravel road, my ride came from an older, but very fit hiking couple returning to Anchorage. Getting out at Chitna an hour past closing of the ranger station, I stash backpack and prepare to camp there ‘till morning. Apparently glowing a mountainous radiance, my 1 beer stop at Uncle Toms’ Tavern spawned a cascade of generosity from a few Chitna locals gifting me more beer, smoked salmon, kind words, heartfelt communication, and gifts of heightened friendships…





June 26, Friday Night

Hard to say that it is night, when there is so much light, the orange quarter moon hangs low in twilight, and from within, I feel my own warm candle light. In sacred reverence I bow to the divine flow in all these illuminated days, into the unknown with the eyes of a mystic. To arrive at such a place as Port Valdez, from a kind soul as a wounded man on his way home, and I along for the ride, through alpine pass majesty, to head of deep water fjord, surrounded by plunging mountainous peaks. Guided, I arrived at Bear Paw tent camp and received 2 distinct gifts, of which one is the private wood deck platform and table, atop the very summit of a small hill, overlooking the bay across to the infamous oil storage and transport terminal for a pipeline, yet dwarfed indifferently by massive alpine peaks above. The other gift was of the endless shower of hot water, as a bonus to this 20 dollar campsite, where I washed away 6 days of sweat and dead skin, as well as my dirty clothes, under the divine cleansing flow. Now treated to sweet serenading music, from a relative to the little Hermit Thrush who brought me such joy at the Mendenhall glacier camp, singing the same cosmically imprinted melodious song, welcoming me to his home by the sea, and in the mountains…



June 27, Saturday Night

Walking around in a Valdez daze, going nowhere but somewhere to explore, absorbing the feel of this town between peaks and sea. Through generic, any town suburb streets, with homes larger than seems necessary, lawns to mow and wide streets for snow, all grown from money flowing into town on the oil pipeline. Such a rich ecosystem supports myriads of life forms, from plankton to grizzly bears, the sea, sky and mountainous land are home to countless links in the chain of life. Though damaged and broken, at times in places, by the semi-conscious deeds of man, measured, studied, and prognosticated towards no end, we as a species and inhabitant, are but only one link ourselves, weakened by our own disconnect from the source. When not at “work” we are vacationing, spending time and money in various forms of recreation, primally pulled into the void of vacant time, drawn towards the dawn of creation for rejuvenation. This process of renewal is present within each moment and requires only stillness of mans’ egoic mind to observe. Participation as an elemental body, in the magic of perpetual creation, comes fluidly to a natural mystic…



June 28, Sunday Night

Just before the crack of noon, I said goodbye to my luxurious hilltop deck campsite, after an easy Sunday morning under warm sunshine. Blessed with calm weather, the mountains called and invited me to walk towards yet another glacier, the Valdez, spilling from the icy heights amongst soaring peaks. Conveniently placed for just such an occasion, was the smooth ribbon of asphalt constructed only for self-propelled wheels and feet, allowing me to glide along the several miles with only a few passers by, while my consciousness was free to flow in the expansive nature of the moments unfolding with each step forward. A change to the crunch of gravel beneath my boots signaled the nearing of camp, and distancing from people, as the end of pavement often promotes. Divine guidance again placed my spirit in such a place of reverent beauty, with soft sand for a campsite, hugging the glacial silt laden stream, flowing from a small terminal moraine lake. The full radius of horizon is a jagged profile of ridgelines and snowy summits, encircling me with humbling majesty, and sacred mountainous comfort…



June 29, Monday Evening

Hardly one could find more examples of fortuitous circumstances arising from the simplicity of “going with the flow” and “living in the moment”, as has been the norm on this Alaskan adventure, and no less this very day itself. Taking my sweet time in camp this morning, absorbing as much beautiful vibration as possible before finally walking away, towards town again, enjoying meditative, ascending spiral music for the smooth path, I found myself transported to the post office where mail was waiting. Support being sustained from the Universal endowment for the arts brought a comforting sigh of relief, then a walk to the bank. Next, over to purchase a ferry passage to Whittier, but being reminded of Tuesday being the one day it’s not available, so on with the flow I go, again having 2 more nights stay in Valdez, for a Wednesday departure. Walking into the unknown of a camp location and not desiring of another 20 dollar campsite in town, I confidently amble towards the small boat harbor aware of unseen guidance from Great Spirit. By going around a locked, closed gate on a gravel spur road to a small promontory of wooded land, elevated and set apart from the sea level activities, then poking around little trails through ripening Salmon berry thickets, I now find myself relaxing ever so comfortably in a clearing underneath 3 mature Spruce trees, growing on the very edge of the cliffs plunging straight down into the undulating sea almost 30 feet below, and only 2 feet away from my camp for this night…



June 30, Tuesday Evening

My recent little saying which comes to mind, “Why plan ahead, when you can wait ‘till now?!” , has shown it’s pertinence all along and again today surfaced, as I had plans for one thing to happen which did not, then I proceeded to schedule out my remaining 9 days until the flight to Seattle, ending this particular journey. Like drawing cards to fill an “inside straight” in a game of Poker, I found myself working between the “now”, and the “then” of a time and date into the near future, attempting to place this sequential flow into the blank squares of my calendar. Not until the then becomes the now will I be certain of how well the cards play out, yet I have no doubt the deck is stacked in my favor, as the reciprocation from a divine and benevolent dealer. Enjoying somewhat of a respite from walking any large distances today, my seat took some of the load off my feet, while sitting by the harbor to hear stories from a long time Valdez local, then at the library for a seamless book exchange as part of spiritual alchemy, and later, stretched out on sunshine warmed beach rocks in a sheltered cove. Now, backpack providing back rest, sitting yet again, there is a numbing awareness as the Sun hangs low, that I prefer sore feet, to a tired seat. A cool evening breeze arrives from the ocean beyond, while wispy high altitude clouds bring shadow to sky scraping mountains, both signaling transition, movement, impermanence, and change…



July 1, Wednesday Night

The secret to cracking a code, is finding its’ pure source in simplicity. So then, to enter the paid campgrounds’ nice shower rooms was to press 4, then 5, 4 to 5, so I deciphered that between 4am and 5am was the free portal of opportunity provided by Spirit, and under that free flowing hot water, I rejoiced as a conscious player in the matrix of manifestation. With a drag and a drop, a keypad code, and a few passwords, I was handed a ticket for passage on the M/V Aurora, through Prince William Sound to Whittier. Flat light from low cloud ceiling cast liquid silver across the surface, punctuated by drifting ice, sculpted intricately beautiful, reflecting hues of blues. Sensuously navigating through potential peril in a seal skin kayak, ages ago when wild was the only way, the travelers left their sense of awe and wonder from such raw and humbling beauty, which I now absorb into my stirring soul. On sacred mountain meadow I lay for the night, heart swelling from bliss, comforted by exposed rock and massive glacial presence, in peace…



July 2, Thursday Night

Just before midnight now and dazed from the magic of the day. Awakening in sweet sub-alpine grandeur, with Portage glacier as front door scenery, and the silvery still fjord water below and behind. Rising from the dream world of surreal energy exchange to that of mortal desires fueled with black espresso, I allow precious bodily fluid to join the natural world, and send the full, red bellied mosquito on its’ way with my blessings. Cardboard ticket to Anchorage in hand, I approach the first of only two cars in line, as they wait for a green light to pass through the 2 ½ mile single lane tunnel, and was pleasantly granted a ride in their truck, depositing me amidst the sprawl of this Alaskan city. The Backpackers’ Hostel is where my anchor is grounded for this night, holding me only for convenience until morning comes to drift into the wild again. So much concentration of humanity easily shows its’ flaws and absurdity, in comparison to my beloved simplicity. At home in the wilds I am in Peace…



July 3, Friday Evening

Busting out from a soft mattress and stale air, stilled form the confines of closed door and window, I walk out of town as cars hiss and trucks rumble past on their hurried exodus from the urban jungle. My cardboard ticket to Denali took only minutes to bring a van to stop for me, and join its’ workday ride to Wasilla, though with drivers’ error, we backtracked 20 miles to the city again, and then completed the circuit by passing our turn-around point. My self written and Spirit blessed ticket worked charmingly again from my second standing location, to ride with a young field biologist going home to Fairbanks for a holiday visit. Door closed and chariot gone, I arrived very timely in Denali National Park, to go through a friendly, yet procedural process of registering for a backcountry permit. The massive dimensions, trail-less access and true wilderness of this home to Wolf and to Grizzly, make for a more committing experience and preparation from the human visitor. Glimpses of the prized summit view were had on the drive under very clear skies, offering a hint as to the unequaled size of any other mountain in North America. Tomorrow, I venture out with independence to be in the wilds…



July 4, Saturday Evening

And into the wild I am! Dropped off somewhere around 68 miles from the main highway, along the well maintained gravel park road which is traveled only by the permitted busses and a few private vehicles, I watched as the big green bus became miniature, before leaving sight completely around a descending ridge. With only a topographic map, my known starting point, and a basic desired direction towards a south facing slope, with fresh running water near, I left the roadside behind and ventured into trail-less wilderness. Grizzly Bears being the primary hazard for my solo travel, I began the process of announcing my presence so as not to surprise one, by calling out in Spanish for my own entertainment, and to release the latent primal fear within me… Hola Osos! Tiene Osos’ aqui? Esta solomente yo!... With no animals in sight, I filled water containers at Moose Creek and gained a small hill above, with a direct line of sight to the smoky haze veiled summit of Denali, from my chosen campsite. Shortly after making camp, I see a full size Grizzly, blond, with cinnamon accents, come ambling while grazing towards me, indifferent to my being here in its’ land, so immense, and so very grand…



July 5, Sunday Evening

Denali’s massive presence greeted my vision, upon rising from the dreamland dimension, while peering out from the tent. Looming broadly across a wide horizon, fully snow covered from its’ altitude, the sharp profile of summit and ridgelines set against a clear morning sky, yet sepia toned from smoke hanging in the cool air. As the Sun gained higher angle, stirring the winds to ignite the sacred foliage, elevating minute particles to be suspended and drifting, the smoky filter obscured the mountainous vision from the magic transformation of divine flame. Purification through oxidization and perspiration, as if in a Native sweat lodge ceremony, I meditated under a nylon roof surrounded by the protection of mosquito inhibiting mesh. With only an occasional word or two as greeting to flower, bug, or resident ground squirrel neighbor, I remain silent throughout the warm day, listening to trickling stream, buzzing insects, distant birdsong, and the whispering wind. Frequently scanning hillsides and riverbed for signs of movement, yesterday evenings’ Grizz remained disinterested in my presence and absent from this area, though I sensed my own over vigilance when descending to the river for water. The humbling feeling imposed by wide expanses of treeless slopes, naked to the Wind and Sun, I absorb Natures’ raw and wild energy, filling my spirit with peace, while dissolving tenacious ego…



July 6, Monday Evening

According to a somewhat arbitrary calendar, though none the less as powerful as a lunar or galactic version of tracking cycles, on this day 48 years ago, my body emerged into the world of gaseous oxygen, leaving behind the one of fluid. Ever since, my lungs have fed upon the air, transferring molecules to streams of blood, as part of the sustaining miracle of life in symbiotic synchronicity, exchanging with the plant kingdom what each breathes in, what the other breathes out. Open heartedly, I give thanks and high praise for my existence in both the physical and spiritual planes, grateful to give and receive energy. Humbly, and without doubt of value, I accept the gifting of spontaneous urge to begin braiding the strong yet supple reed grass I was compelled to harvest yesterday. In sacred reverence, strands of grass are woven by fingers remembering an ancient task, while I look on with amazement as the creation is entwined before me. For much of this day, braided sections link with others, lengthening meditative action while body rests in stillness, producing a gift to myself of tangible and intangible beauty in simplicity. Sacred cleansing smoke from fires far and near, rise purifyingly high into cosmically conscious space, adding particulate substance into the voids for which to facilitate the exchange of intent, into manifested actuality. Peace becomes palpable, love turns visceral, moments are eternal, transition is perpetual, unity inevitable…



July 7, Tuesday Evening

Dreamy through the twilight, awakened by piercing sunlight, illuminating yellow nylon for a cheery morning glow. Emerging to a vision bright, and clearly past the smoky phase of prior days, blue sky above and behind massive dimensions of mountainous immensity, draped heavy with pure white snow, Denali, “The Great One”, exposes herself in stark brilliance. I rise to greet sweet rays of Sun upon my face, and vocalize gratitude for all that is given or received through divine connection to Great Spirit. In recognition of the peaceful vibes, a large bull Moose calmly grazes, and then sits to rest near enough to hear my welcome of his presence, to my visit, in his home. On this third full day, approaching a fourth and final night, camped in sacred quietude, I have begun to blend within this wilderness as it permeates my being, absorbed into the whole, united with flowers, rocks, and faint birdsong, all caressed with flowing breeze. A seamless weave of wild grass manifests mysteriously from fingertips, called into the physical from premonition, and taking its’ rightful place wrapped around the balanced center of sacred staff. Full Sun intensely focused, burns symbols into wood, releasing it’s meaning through wispy transformation, while crystalline gems adorn and accentuate this magical wand. Consciousness expanded, ego diminished, another rising horizon signals cyclic eternity to this journey of Spirit…



July 8, Wednesday Midnight

A gentle cleansing rain brings this day to a close, now heavier drops fall into the first minutes of tomorrow, the Heavens’ sweet tears of laughing and crying as the same release, with confirmation of Angelic Sisterly presence. 21 hours ago, Earth’s Sister, Moon, drifted full across snowy summits, low and orange, she gracefully showed her face while I heated water for breakfast, in awe of such celestial union from the passing of these heavenly bodies. Visual presence was brief, allowing focus to break camp and part from my hilltop perch of the last several days, walking away from the Altar, supremely blessed and humbled. Barely containing surges of emotion, yet deeply sensitized to the environment beneath my feet, I met again the Grizzly friend, just ahead and emerging from riparian brush. Mutual respect of our individual intentions recognized, each allowed to continue on their way, my heart overflowed with acceptance, producing tears of joy to fall from the windows of my soul. Soft tundra steps gave way to a harsh but welcome road of gravel crunching underfoot, leading me out of wilderness, arriving once again into the eternal moment of perpetual transition, spiritually guided, supremely supported, wholly protected, divinely blessed…



July 9, Thursday Midnight

The smell of rain, and with it came, a southbound train, time to ramble on. We rode the rails together, yet I found myself strangely separated from the others, not so much a tourist as a traveler of time and space, indicated even by my seat number of 4-D. Burning diesel, transforming fossil fuel to electricity, transferred to wheels of steel on steel, pulling mass, rolling momentum, passing Nature by. Distanced by speed and miles, aloof in thought, I live within my hearts wilderness, silent, alone, connected to all. As a detached observer, amidst some concentrated cosmic experiment of human diversity gone awry, the urban element is puzzling and repulsive, crowded with noise, filled with aberrations, devoid of peace and tranquility. City bus to international airport, where polished granite floors support the comings and goings of all shapes, sizes and styles, a cross section to one specie, succumbed to rampant genetic modifications. Beings yet we are, with souls and hearts driven by love, seeking fulfillment and purpose, craving joy and laughter, residing within our miraculous bodies. All on our individual missions, collectively united, variably conscious, inhabiting the same home as an orb in space, graced with a rare and divine ability to birth life, she is our Mother, seeded from the infinite, and the journey never ends…