THE FEATHER RIVER CANYON
Greetings from California! With no work scheduled for me this week, I was able to go with Jerry on business.
His business trips are usually to very cool places. We went up the Feather River Canyon to the Rock Creek Power House and stayed in a 'rustic' cabin(?) for three days. I was able to see amazing crane work and I got some much appreciated alone time hiking in the mountains. More about that another time.
There are more important issues today.
I've had a pleasant week; today, at home, the weather is perfect at 68 degrees, a breeze swaying the trees, a brilliant blue sky; the farrier was here on time this morning and replaced all the horse shoes that fell off within a week of shoeing...... BUT I am feeling blue, melancholy and maybe even a little anxious. What gives with that!???
I feel like my mare.... when her best buddy herd-mate is taken from the pasture and led away. When she is just left behind while her buddy rides away on an adventure. I will never again be annoyed when she gallops back and forth along the fence line screaming out, "hey wait! wait for me, don't leave without me!" I helped Jerry load up his truck and as he drove away last night I fought the urge to gallop after him yelling, "NO! wait! you can't go, the plants will die!"
Now I am faced with all this self analysis; exactly when did I become so danged 'herd bound'?; has my formerly strong sense of independance faded?; why did I decline the invitation to join him on this trip months ago?; why is it fine when I am the 'leaver' but now as the 'left behinder' I am feeling so blue?
In June we took my 2nd trip to the cabin in the Colorado Wilderness. I love it there (except in the winter). I love the trip to the cabin. Jerry has some lifelong rancher friends in Durango. For years Jerry has been taking a small group of menfolk into the mountains on kind of a City Slicker adventure. They do repairs and open up a log cabin for the winter hunting season for his friend. The friend gets work done and the guys get the taste of being COWBOYS for a week. It has traditionally been a 'man-trip'. Horses, mules, bedrolls, spring water, hard physical labor, cowboy boots and hats: the whole nine yards. And Jerry really wanted me to go, I declined, saying that he couldn't bring his bride along when the trip has always been for guys. SO I scheduled work. When it turned out that only four were able to go this year, and half of them wanted me there, it was too late to get out of work. They will have a wonderful adventure and I miss being there. David and Jerry will have the best time ever and promise to drink one for me at Whiskey Point!
I am now done whining.
Pickup loaded with saddles, bridles, bedrolls, blankets, slickers, mantees, and my cowboy ready to drive off into the sunset. A late start puts him in Durango sometime Saturday afternoon.
The trail to the cabin is steep, with sharp switch-backs, pine trees and 'quaking aspens' ('Quakies') turning golden. Leather squeaking, horses puffing, rhythmic muffled hoofbeats, leaves rattling, winds 'shshing', hawks sceaming and distant raven caws.... how I am missing it!
This is the destination. A rustic log cabin nestled in a peaceful valley, 100 years from our world, in the mountain wilderness just outside of Durango, Colorado.