Take Me Home Country Roads

"The South we belong to is a good country, a valiant country; it always has had valor, and it has had industry and thrift. Our house is painted, our grass is green. For those of us who bend our backs and put our shoulders to the wheel, the South is still Canaan land; it is milk and honey......" -Ben Robertson,
Red Hills and Cotton

Over the past four months I've spent a lot of time journeying down country roads. I never would have imagined how much I craved to be on them, or how much of a part of me they could become. This didn't used to be the case. I used to dream about the magic of big city lights, the promise of fame and fortune, living in famous bohemian neighborhoods where I could practice my craft. The city, I thought would provide me with significance, purpose and professional success.

These days, my older, city self seeks out quiet people and plain houses. More and more I need to bathe in softly filtered sunshine and undisturbed moonbeams that cast a blue glow on the earth beneath.

A charitable, unreserved Southern hospitality lives deep in this beautiful countryside where people who just happen to moseying along the same road at the same time greet on another with the forefinger of their steering-wheel hands. You find no strangers here. No horns honk. Nobody whizzes past you. You drift with the road. You are one with the rhythm of the curves. My city self lived years just feet from neighbors and only knew their names from their mailboxes. I was surrounded by people, but completely alone.


While winding with the road up and down gently rolling pastures, I want to stop, to snap a mental picture of the weathered barns and black timber fences to dream about all night. It is the esssence of enchantment.

The Backroads of Franklin, Tennessee

After months of unpacking, getting settled into our new digs in Franklin, TN and getting everyone into new routines, I was in need of a little fresh air and a road under my feet, well under my wheels. The warm day was bright with blue skies, so I went for a drive amid the lush spring greenery of our new neck of the woods. It is an amazing sight to watch all of the wildlife roaming free in the country. Can't wait to find some new hiking trails.

A Bittersweet Hike

A group of five families embarked on what will be my family's last hike in Arizona for a while (until we visit again), a post-Thanksgiving hike on the Lost Dog Wash Trail in the McDowell Mountain Preserve in Scottsdale.
It was a fun, easy, 6.8 mile hike in a gorgeous desert landscape along the rugged McDowell Mountains. The trail was well-defined and led us gradually up to an old jeep trail,


that ended at the spectacular summit with breathtaking views of the
valley.

It was a very poignant hike for my family and I. We feel as though we are on a path of obedience toward God's will as he leads us away from our home and beloved friends in Arizona to adventures unknown in middle Tennessee. We felt the first tugging about a year and a half ago and have been trying to follow God's leading, kind, then stern, tender and tough, faithfully firm, patiently urgent, eagerly tolerant, softly shouting, gently thundering. We may not understand His hand, but we can always trust His heart.

I always feel very excited about heading out to a new destination. The uncertainty, it's like opening a present. I always feel that way when I'm starting a new hike also. Sometimes I can't imagine the blessings as I'm toiling and rockhopping up the trail, but when I get to the part where I can see the amazing views, it makes it all worth it. I know from experience that when I follow God's leading, the blessings are unbelievable!

I was pondering at the summit as I looked over the valley and felt that even though the universe may seem huge and the rift between friends on opposite sides of the country may seem a great distance, I realized that all the mountains and valleys in the world cannot separate friends whose hearts are one.

Happy Trails,
Gwenn, Jerry, Tori and Alex

Peace Through Simplicity and Exercise

"The richness I achieve comes from nature, the source of my insipiration."

-Claude Monet

Sometimes a solution to overcoming stress can be as close as the nearest hiking path.

A recent study at the University of Colorado found that physical activity may prevent stress to the immune system, lowering your risk for bacterial and viral infections. (Who needs the H1N1 vaccine when you can exercise??)

After holiday dinners, I always feel as though I have been hit by a truck the next morning. I suppose it's all of the nitrates, gluten, MSG, free radicals, etc. etc. etc. zipping around in my system that make me groan and want to go back to sleep.

This year, I"m going to pull myself together and go for a hike. The thing is, once my feet hit the ground, I feel energized. Once I start hiking, my thoughts drift freely and gently, exploring new thoughts that enliven me or put me in a good mood. Being with good friends adds to the fun.

The simplicity of nature does give us that ispiration we need in order for us to move casually and peacefully through our daily lives.....especially during the holiday season.

Join us on Saturday, November 28, 2009 at the Lost Dog Wash trail at the end of 128th Street North of Via Linda in Scottsdale at 7:45 AM under the shelter just north of the parking lot.

A Little Glimpse of Heaven

I have always been enamored by the simple beauty of empty roads. Of course traveling north on I-17 from Phoenix towards Flagstaff on Labor Day weekend, it was pretty much impossible to find an empty patch of highway. After the curves and turns at 70 miles per hour on steep mountain grades that terrify me (when I don't have the wheel in hand), I was more than relieved to get off the highway and head west toward Sedona. I could feel the stress slowly releasing as I took in the majesty of the red rocks, and mentally, I was rubbing my hands in anticipation of the beauty that awaited me on our 6 mile hike on the West Fork trail of Oak Creek, a chance for a little glimpse of heaven.

The West Fork Trail of Oak Creek is hands down my favorite hiking trail in Arizona, perhaps in the whole country. The beauty of the area inspired novelist Zane Grey to write "The Call of the Canyon." The pace of the hike was perfect for us "joy is in the journey" types. It is more of an amble, or perhaps a walk. I always feel like I'm living life to it's fullest when I spend time with family and friends, building relationships in the great outdoors, breathing the pristine mountain air, and enjoying and marveling in God's beautiful creation. I relish the chance to step back and regenerate and savor every moment of our hikes.

The trail began with an easy stroll down a paved sidewalk enclosed on both sides with brilliant yellow flowers teeming with bumblebees, over a footbridge that crossed a sapphire pool and across a scraggly grove with a few tough crusty old apple trees. The kids and adults alike played a while amongst the ruins of an old hunting and fishing lodge. The trail abruptly changed to sand as we passed through a nurturing fern meadow unaware of the spectacular views that were about to hit us in the face.

We followed the twisting, turning sandy trail as it took us deeper into the canyon .We rock- hopped across Oak Creek at numerous places on the mossy green rounded stones that glowed gold under the white dolomite and red sandstone walls that rose us and loomed all around and embraced us. Some people hiked through the creek most of the time, across the boulder strewn streambed, sometimes ankle deep, at other times knee deep. At one point, the narrow enchanting gorge required all of us to wade down the creek. This is when the child inside everyone was released. There came a point when you just can't get any wetter. It was a cool refreshing atmosphere surrounded by the lush vegetation; the lichen draped evergreens, towering ponderosa pines, fir, box, elder, oak, willows, maples and cottonwood trees. The dense trees provided a welcome relief from the harsh desert sun that we all have been experiencing throughout the AZ summer. The plethora of boulders, unique rock sculptures, patterns of the canyon walls, the unique cantilevered overhangs were stunning. Some of the kids explored hollows in the cliffs. There remnants of spring columbine, lupine, sumac and wild grapes all along the trail. Butterflies flitted and hummingbirds rocketed around us. Birdsong spilled from high places. One hawk even held a two way conversation with some of the hikers. We trained ourselves to look for the rock cairns perched precariously on boulders and marked the trail. The aroma of wood rot, vanilla, and pine drifted through the canyon.

It wasn't long before the monsoon rain deluged us. The rolling, rumbling thunder in the canyon juxtaposed with the gentle musical sounds of the water flowing through the forest glades and spilling over the smooth red rock was a treat for the senses. The water made wonderful geometric designs in the water. The fog creeped up on us, gently penetrating the pine trees on the cliffs. Before long, the rain became a gentle, but incessant companion, the creek flowed a little harder, and the plants responded with a lavish explosion of color as we neared the end of our hike. After a welcome change into dry clothes, and a fabulous Mexican dinner we were treated to a blazing sunset as we drove out of Sedona through the dense fog that enveloped and shrouded the red rocks and made us feel like we were driving in the clouds.

That's what happens when the journey is the destination, a little glimpse of heaven.

Journey or Destination- What is more important?

Everytime we hop in the car and drive out of the valley, I never fail to marvel at the stark beauty of Arizona's many landscapes and the way that variations in light and season create subtle changes at each moment in time. The last time we hiked the Horton Creek Trail 15 miles east of Payson, it was late spring. There was a misty spring rain that fell on the floor of the forest that was carpeted with bracken and wildflowers. There was an invigorating aroma of sage and pinon pine in the air and we shivered as we walked along the slick and gluey mud that felt as though we were walking on oiled glass. The mud built up on our boots and we clumped periodically down the path with six pounds of the stuff clinging to our soles. This particular journey, our second hike along Horton Creek in the middle of the summer was a totally different experience. To me as an artist-a card -carrying member of a cult that worships light, the contrast was amazing. The harsh summer sunshine failed to illuminate the soft, gentle landscape like I remembered it. The trail writhed in shimmering heat. Our soles left bootprints in the fine dust. The contrast of the two hikes was remarkable.

Like the tremendous natural variations, I have discovered that there are variations in the ways that people experience hiking. On our hikes, I have discovered that there are two types of people, those who relish the journey, and those who enjoy the destination.

Yes, I like hiking, but I like to go for the journey, not the destination. In fact, there have been a few hikes that I never made it to the "destination" because I have been enjoying the journey too much. Sometimes the scramble up numerous steep paths of rocks and crumbled boulders deters me, and I would rather spend my time enjoying the sights, sounds and smells on level ground. Actually, I kind of saunter through the wild breathing in the fragrance of hot pine needles, sniffing the bark of pine trees (they smell like strawberries) and listening for the secrets of the wind as it whips through through the junipers, pinon and ponderosa pine trees, or the supremely refreshing and relaxing sound of a spring fed stream at first trickling and then bubbling, accompanied by the occasional distant bird singing carelessly. I check out downed logs for lizards and stop to check out the wildflowers. I love to watch the striders skate across the surface of ponds, and enjoy butterflies of every color imaginable flit about in the warm sunshine. I revel in the queendom of dragonflies in every color of the rainbow, blues and greens and suprising flashes of bright copper. I carefully step over baby horned toads and vibrant blue spotted blister beetles.It is pure joy.

The French call it Joie de vivre-the joy of living, the Italians express it as Nienta sense gioia- nothing without joy and to the Greeks, it's Kefi-the spirit of joy, passion, high spirits. It is what I and my kindred spirits who hike for the journey treasure. Actually, as Tim Cahill once said, "A journey is best measured in friends rather than miles." To me and my kindred spirits, joy is found not in finishing an activity, but in doing it. We embrace the journey. Sometimes the destination is restrictive, it sets an end to what we will achieve. It thwarts our freedom.

There are others who live for the destination, the journey is only a medium for the destination. They find it preferable to reach their destination and then relax and soak in the beauty, peace and serenity of their surroundings. They hike for the workout. They as Lao Tzu put it "Do their work, then step back. This is the only path to serenity." They do take short pauses along the hike to enjoy views, snap photos, grab a snack or catch their breath, but their main goal it to get there. The spring at Horton Creek was the destination for this hike. The spring literally gushes out of the side of a mountain into a cascading waterfall. Below the falls, the water pools into a small pond that is lined with moss covered rocks. The heavy vegetation filtered out the bright sunshine. Those who were really brave ventured into the freezing waters of Horton Spring and enjoyed throwing rocks into the pond.

Regardless of whether one is a journey type, or a destination type, the pine forests, spring fed streams, cooler temperatures, spectacular views and wildlife and just spending time with treasured family and friends made this hike a treasured memory.

The Art of Observation

"There is more to life than increasing it's speed."

-Ghandi

Wildlife watching offers a front row view to a fascinating world of drama and survival.

Wild animals lead secret lives all around us. The evidence they leave behind while we work, play, sleep and otherwise go about our lives reveals the exciting and the mundane, the life and death dramas, the animals relationships with one another and their relationship with their habitats.

All that is needed to help reconstruct these lives is a mixture of patience, a good imagination and a willingness to look closer, for you never know what types of encounters may be enfolding at your feet.

I found this quote by Barbara Kingsolver and it struck a chord:

"People need wild places. whether or not we think we do, we do. We need to be able to taste grade and know again that we desire it. We need to experience a landscape that is timeless, whose agenda moves at the pace of glaciers. To be surrounded by a singing, mating, howling commotion of other species, all of which love their lives as much as we do ours, and none of which could possibly care less about us in our place. It reminds us that our plans are small and somewhat absurd. It reminds us why, in those cases in which our plans might influence many future generations, we ought to choose carefully. Looking out on a clean plank of planet earth, we can get shaken right down to the bone by the bronze-eyed possibility of lives that are not our own."