In a world fragmented by a menace of a mean virus where, being in close proximity to others is not the wisest thing to do any more, going up to where fresh snow still covers mountain peaks, and it is just you and those mountains up there; you and Nature and the cold-water rivers which run through them, it is just the natural thing to do for the old gypsy couple.
So, we did. We loaded our gypsy caravan and drove ourselves up to the heart of Nature.
It rained all the way up to the mountains; dirt roads became exactly just that—mud! And thus, our truck and gypsy caravan got a new shade of murky dark brown.
We set up camp—or mainly the Fisherman did, because I felt lazy and didn’t feel like doing anything. Later, when he was done assembling things up, we got onto our bikes and drove around the camp. We drove down to where the hot springs pool and office is. We checked ourselves in and got our usual ice-cream sandwich. The pool had been emptied out, and it had just gotten a fresh new coat of cobalt paint. So, it was emptied of people as well and the park, too, was almost emptied. Which it made me really happy, because when you go to Nature, that’s how it should be—quiet and lovely and uncrowded, just like it should be. I love the solitude and privacy of natural places and camping where you can’t move without bumping into a motorcycle or a four-wheeler or a racer or a dog or two, is not my thing.
The Fisherman had worked on prepping our menu the day before, and everything was deliciously ready to be placed on the coals and be cooked... salmon with chimichurri sauce (made by the Fisherman), a whole onion with bouillon cubes and cabbage stakes.
We sleep like silent trees... waiting for morning to break. Breakfast of scrambled eggs, a medley of berries, dried fruits and nuts and toast with chimichurri yum! 41 degrees by mid-morning. We read, we wrote and then went for a walk, passed on by the river to check for fish to fish and came back to read and write some more.
For lunch we made rice, black beans and veggie meat. In the afternoon we went to fish at another part of the river outside the camp. It is a beautiful open space, by even there I encountered a few motorcycles and few dogs without their leach that came by to sniff me and realizing I didn’t like them run away.
The Fisherman disappeared through tall grassed along the river bank searching for the right spot to fish, while I remained behind, in an open area by the river, where I sat down and read, took pictures and sang hymns. It was such a beautiful place, with the river serenating me with its usual hastiness and calmness at the same time. I wondered if perhaps I was going to encounter a bear which I hope I did not. In any case, we carried our new walky-talky’s and were all the time communicating back and forth...
After the Fisherman was done fishing nothing, we drove back to our camp. The sun had come out and it felt warm and comfortable. We made us an oatmeal drink and sad down to read some more. Tonight, I will be chicken taquitos for dinner.