Martha

The young woman lay dying in a pool of blood along side the lonely stretch of Illinois prairie highway. "Áápikiááyo! Áápikiááyo!" she screams. "I love you, Áápikiááyo!" Two-thousand miles away in the wilderness of the Bitterroot Mountains a Blackfeet brave grasps his chest, sits down on the ground and begins to sob. His name . . . . Áápikiááyo.

Martha was the youngest daughter of Robert and Ruth Standish who were second generation settlers in western Montana. They had a ranch on the high plains just east of the Lewis and Clark mountain range of the northern Rocky Mountains near the little town of Cut Bank. On a clear day they could make out the mountains in the distance. Cut Bank was right on the eastern edge of the Blackfeet Reservation. Martha had many Blackfeet friends, which made her extremely prejudice parents angry. They wanted her to spend her time with her "own kind." Nevertheless Lowa, a Blackfeet girl Martha's age, was her best friend for many years. Martha knew Áápikiááyo, Lowa's older brother, and somewhere over time they fell in love.

Martha became pregnant by Áápikiááyo. Her parents attempted to have him arrested but Martha warned him and he fled with the last words spoken to each other, "I love you. I will find you." To avoid disgrace, Martha's parents sent her back east to a "home for wayward girls" where she gave birth to a little girl whom she wasn't allowed to hold, see or name. Shortly after giving birth, Martha sneaked away from the home. She started waiting tables in road houses to make her way westward. Martha had sent a letter to Áápikiááyo's sister, Lowa, telling her that she was on her way and would be there as soon as possible. Martha never arrived.

Martha's child was given to a good couple in western Pennsylvania who did love her. They knew nothing about the child except that she was the illegitimate child of a white woman and Indian man. Not knowing the child's mother's name, the couple named the girl Martha. The couple, innocently but ignorantly thinking that they would spare little Martha the shame of her background, never told her the truth. Young Martha never felt at home among the Aryans of Pennsylvania. It was not just that she had dark hair and beautiful mahogany skin with very native american features but she never felt at peace.

Áápikiááyo became a recluse. A nomad, he moved up and down the Rocky Mountains living in a small tipi in the wilderness. He would occasionally go into town where he would look for Martha.

Several years later Áápikiááyo ran into a shaman named Áípi . The shaman understood Áápikiááyo's pain and helped him learn to live with the pain. Áápikiááyo learned the ways of the shaman from Áípi and soon became a sought-after medicine man himself. He tended to stay in the Bitterroot Wilderness and along the Salmon River where people would journey for days to seek his wisdom and remedies. Throughout his life, however, he never stopped looking for Martha and would call out her name in his sleep.

Young Martha went to college at the University of Wyoming. When asked why a Pennsylvania girl would go all the way to wild Wyoming for college she would reply that she felt called. There was no way that she was going to explain the sense of connection whenever she saw or read something about the west. Who would believe her if she tried to explain the feeling deep in her gut that told her she belonged in the west. She had never been there but she grew up with the sense that the west was her real home. There was also the ever nagging feeling that there was something more in her life. This feeling didn't dissipate when she moved to the Rockies, so the west wasn't her 'something more.' On the contrary, the feeling increased when she moved west. Whatever it was, it was still out there for her to discover. Whatever it was, it was in the west.

At the University Martha enrolled in a class in Native American culture. The first day she sat next to another young woman with dark hair and skin. The classmate looked at Martha and, without introduction, said "you're Niitsitapi, aren't you." Sometime later, when recalling her first encounter with Áápiinikimm, who went by Abby, Martha would say that, although she had no idea what Niitsitapi meant, she felt "a lifting in my soul as though some curtain had been lifted and light flooded in."

Abby and Martha became fast friends and Abby helped Martha develop her Native American identity. When the Christmas break came at the university Martha had nowhere to go. Abby took her home to the reservation where she met Abby's family. Abby's father was Áípi.

Áípi felt a shock when his daughter introduced Martha. He immediately thought of Áápikiááyo and Áápikiááyo's search for the white woman, Martha. This girl was neither white nor old enough to be the Martha for whom Áápikiááyo searched, but there was something about her that made his nerves tingle.

Martha quickly became a part of Abby's family. Áípi gave her the nickname of Pokááattsistaawa - baby rabbit - because despite the strength and courage it took for her to leave the comforts of eastern United States and travel, as a single woman, to the wilds of Wyoming, she was as timid as a baby rabbit and Áípi could sense that she was equally as frightened. One evening, while sitting around the fireplace in the log cabin Áípi had built, Áípi told the story of Áápikiááyo. Martha began to cry. She could feel Áápikiááyo's pain. She could feel Áápikiááyo's beloved Martha's pain. Áípi said nothing but could not help but wonder if Pokááattsistaawa had some connection to Áápikiááyo. She was experiencing the most vivid understanding of his pain. It was as though she were physically sharing it. But how could that be? She was Niitsitapi, not white, and much too young. Besides, she had no prior awareness of Áápikiááyo. This was the first she had heard of him. He watched in sad compassion as Martha cried. "I don't know why," Martha kept repeating through her sobs. Abby, who was comforting her friend, looked at her father. Áípi didn't need words or sounds. The look shouted 'help her, father!'.

Áípi stood up, gently put his hand on Martha's head, and said "I will try to help." With that he left the cabin and walked to a spot on the side of the mountain where he always went to meditate and think through problems.

"Where are you, Áápikiááyo?" he spoke to the sky. "Where are you, and what is your connection to this i'nákaakííkoaiksi? (little girl)" He had no more said this than he was filled with the sense of a tremendous anguished cry. He held his head and looked around expecting to see the forest around him violently shaking. Back at his cabin Martha's sobbing became so hard that she was gasping for air.

I must find him, Áípi thought to himself. He withdrew from the world around him and entered a trance state trying to keep his mind clear as he watched for signs of Áápikiááyo. Áípi had known from many years of experience what science was just beginning to seriously study, viz. we are all one with and in the universe. Quantum scientist call it entanglement. It confronts not only scientist but humanity with a new reality. We begin to see that "at a level of reality deeper than the ordinary senses can grasp, our brains and minds are in intimate communion with the universe."₍₁₎ Áípi already knew this. For centuries the white man had made fun of the shaman but now the white man's own science, time and again, confirmed what Áípi had practiced his entire life. Áípi didn't know anything about quantum physics but he did know that his spirit animal, Omahkapi'si (the wolf), would help him find Áápikiááyo. And while so many, afraid to explore anything that might be contrary to their belief system, scoffed at Áípi's way of life, their own scientists were discovering that "Minds are entangled with the universe, so in principle minds can non-locally influence anything, including a collection of other minds or physical systems."₍₁₎ Áípi would sit quietly and do what scientists had observed and were replicating and analyzing in sterile laboratories as though it were something new, strange and bizarre. Some scientist from George Mason University wrote "... however strange or bizarre it might seem, ... all of physical reality is a single quantum system that responds together to further interactions." (2) Áípi would have laughed. It isn't new. Áípi would have worded it differently but it was the truth that had been passed down to him from unknown generations before. We are all one and he could reach out to Áápikiááyo in his mind and turn to Omahkapi'si to lead the way.

After some time Áípi began to sense his friend in pain. As he concentrated he could feel both physical and emotional pain. Both were great. The emotional pain was greater than he had ever felt in his friend and the physical pain was excruciating. Áápikiááyo was badly hurt. Áípi could almost hear his friend call out the name "Martha". "Where are you, Áápikiááyo?" He began to see the vision of mountains and a monument. He concentrated intently and finally recognized the place as Chief Tendoy Monument by which he had traveled many times. Áápikiááyo was somewhere near the monument and he had to take Martha there. The snow would be deep but the road should be passable.

Áípi returned to the cabin. "We need to talk," he said to Martha.

"I know," Martha replied. "He's asking for me."

Abby looked shocked. "Who's asking for you?" she demanded.

"Áápikiááyo," Martha looked at Áípi. "He's hurt, isn't he?"

"Yes, I think so," Áípi answered.

"Will someone tell me what's going on?!" Abby was becoming frustrated.

"Áápikiááyo isn't just a story I tell," Áípi turned to his daughter, "he is a real man."

"Somehow he thinks I'm his Martha and wants to see me," Martha added. "But he's hurt."

"He's somewhere near the Chief Tendoy monument in Idaho."

"We have to go," Martha addressed Áípi. "We must find your friend."

They loaded up Áípi's old truck with everything they could think of that they might need and headed west on US-26. It would be a long circuitous road through a corner of Yellowstone National Park, Jackson and on to Idaho Falls where they would catch Idaho State Route 28 north to Tendoy. It would be a trip of at least 285 miles. Between the age and condition of his truck and the possible snow on the roads, Áípi figured that the trip would take them close to six hours not counting any stops. It was too late and too dangerous to start out at night, so they waited until early morning to leave.

As the three pulled out onto the highway and turned west Omahkapi'si was standing in the snow across the road. Áípi stopped the truck. Focusing on the great wolf Áípi thought "I am going to need you, dear friend. Please help me." Omahkapi'si lowered his head, turned and disappeared into the snow covered sage brush.

Martha looked at Áípi. "An old friend of mine," he said with a smile.

The trip was mile after mile of snow covered roads, thru mountain passes and along the Snake River. Jackson was the first town of any size they encountered. They bought gasoline, coffee and stale donuts and pushed on. The old truck, which was almost as old as Abby, chugged along without missing a beat as though on a mission. Áípi loved his old truck even though it got horrendous mileage. He hoped that he had enough room on his credit card.

They had to go into Idaho Falls and take Interstate 15 north for a few miles. This made Áípi very uncomfortable. Besides not being accustomed to the heavy traffic and high speeds he didn't like cities. Idaho Falls, a small city by eastern standards, was far too big for Áípi's liking. It made him feel closterphobic and he was happy when they passed through Mud Lake and turned north onto Idaho State route 28.

It was snowing heavily as the trio pulled into the Chief Tendoy Monument. The snow was too deep to pull into the parking area so Áípi did his best to pull over enough for other vehicles to pass. They sat and look at the extense of white and green that surrounded them. The trip that had taken then eight hours and ten minutes was the easy part.

"Where do we go from here?" asked Abby.

"I have no idea," Áípi admitted.

"What?!" his daughter exclaimed.

"I'm trusting Omahkapi'si to guide us."

"Father," Abby's voice almost sounded like a parent scolding a child, "you know that I respect your belief in your friendship with wolves but you can't seriously believe that one is going to come and show us the way."

"Yes, he can," Martha almost whispered.

Abby followed Martha's gaze. There, not far from the tree-line, was the largest wolf Abby had ever seen. It stood looking at them. Áípi got out of the truck and saluted the animal.

"Will you lead us to Áápikiááyo?" Áípi addressed Omahkapi'si with respect.

The majestic Omahkapi'si dipped his head and turned toward the forest.

"Please, brother," Áípi called after him. "We are not as well adapted as you. We must prepare." The wolf turned and waited.

Áípi and the girls dawned their parkas and backpacks. One carried food, one carried medical supplies and the third carried camping supplies. Putting on snow shoes, and giving Martha a super-quick lesson on how to use them, the three headed toward the patiently waiting Omahkapi'si.

The snow hug heavy on the limbs of the trees which were, at this elevation, mostly lodgepole and larch with the occasional spruce. Omahkapi'si was very patient with his slow human followers. He would run a short distance then sit and wait. The three of them trudged along silently concentrating on the steep climb and lost in their own personal thoughts.

Abby had always had a great respect for her Father's traditions and proud of him being a shaman, but she had never believed much of what he said, especially the part about talking to Omahkapi'si. Now she was witnessing the truth. Her father was intimately connected with Omahkapi'si. This wild animal communicated and understood him, and was now leading them through the forest.

Perhaps communication wasn't the right term. Áípi didn't need to speak. They didn't seem to need to be near. There were no normal channels for the flow of information. It made Abby think of an interdisciplinary course she had taken involving physics, psychology and information technology. The discussion had turned to the current research and debate around quantum physics and psi. There was strong evidence that something exciting was going on and it included quantum physic's entanglement and psi's telepathy. Although, to quote Einstein, it was a bit "spooky", the evidence was strong that there is a connection between all sentient beings that could account for what is known as telepathy. Here Abby was witnessing such a connection, such a communication without the use of any of the "normal" methods of communication. How did this wolf know that they were coming?

Martha too was amazed at Áípi's relationship with Omahkapi'si but her mind was mauling over why this Blackfeet shaman wanted so desperately to see her. Did he think she was his lost Martha? Did he think that she was an incarnation? Abby had decided that she was Blackfeet, but she had never been west of Pennsylvania until she left there to study at the University of Wyoming. This man was a shaman. He was a seer. Did he know something about her that she needed to know? She ignored the pain in her legs from walking in the awkward snowshoes. This enigmatic man was becoming more and more important to her.

It was beginning to grow dark when they saw a tipi. There was no smoke coming from the vent and no signs of life. Omahkapi'si stood to one side as Áípi moved as fast as his snowshoes would allow for the last fifty yards or more. Quickly removing his snowshoes and instinctively standing them in deep snow, he started digging his way into the tipi. Martha and Abby we right behind.

There was no light in the tipi, nor was there a fire. With Áípi's flashlight they could see a man. His long, heavy salt-and-pepper braids hug down over the blanket that was pulled up to his chin. Martha could just barely see his face but it seemed extremely familiar. Abby looked from the man to Martha and gasped.

"Get a fire going, Áápiinikimm" Áípi barked. "Martha, bring me the first-aide kit."

The girls sprang into action. The man was awake and talking to Áípi in a language Abby recognized as Blackfeet - one of the Algonquin languages. Soon Abby had a fire going and the cold tipi began to warm. Throughout this time Martha could not really get a good look at the injured man.

Áápikiááyo pushed Áípi aside so that he could see Martha. "Is that Martha?" he asked Áípi. Áípi nodded. If Martha had been looking at Áípi instead of concentrating on Áápikiááyo she would have seen the tears running down Áípi's face.

Kneeling down at Áápikiááyo's side she got the first really good look at him. She began to cry. She knew why she was to be here. It was like looking into a mirror.

"Child," Áápikiááyo took Martha's hand. "I am your Father. Your Mother was taken from me when she was carrying you in her womb." He paused as he fought back his tears. "She sent a letter to my sister, Lowa, saying that you had been taken from her as soon as you were born and that she was coming home. One night I heard her scream my name. She never arrived. I searched for her for years. When, in my anguish, I called out her name you responded. That's when I knew that you existed and that you carry your Mother's name. And you are beautiful, like your Mother. The infection in my leg is very bad. I may not survive. But you came. You fulfilled your Mother's promise. If I die, I will die happy because my Martha is home."

Crying tears of joy and sadness Martha lay down next to her Father and put her head on his shoulder. Now she knew that she was home. Now she knew that 'something more'. It was her Father and her heritage.

REFERENCE

(1) Radin, Dean. (2006) Entangled Minds: Extrasensory experiences in a quantum reality. New York. Paraview Pocket Books.

(2) Nadeau, R., and Kafatos, M. (2001) The Non-local Universe: New Physics and Matters of the Mind. Oxford Univ Press.  

A Rainy Evening - Life is Good

The rain on Sinni's ₍₁₎ roof is gentle and comforting. It is the only time we do not hear the rush of the nearby McDonald and Avalanche Creeks carrying the melting snow and glacier waters to Lake McDonald. A few stragglers, who didn't get off the mountain before the storm, go by, but for the most part it is just the four of us - Pamela, me and the two dogs - with Sinni in the cool, beautiful, solitude of the dense forest of cedar and hemlock. Soon our nearest neighbor will be six miles away. Even when a campground is full, rain generally brings quiet. Here at Avalanche we only have two campsites that we can actually see from Sinni.

There is a stillness in the forest as though all nature is standing so very still to receive the life-giving rain. Mni wiconi - water is life. Some animals will continue to quietly forage in the rain while others will seek shelter and bed down for the night. Our resident Grizzly bear sow, with her two big cubs, will be moving almost silently up Avalanche Creek, along the side of Mt Brown, to her night time retreat at the southeast end of Avalanche Lake. Her cubs are two-year-olds and will soon be on their own. Tonight, however, they will still know the warmth and protection of momma.

The table lamp by me gives off a soft golden glow. I converted it to run off our 12-volt electrical system. Our batteries are holding at 12.7 volts. The rule of thumb is to shut down and go to bed when they drop to 12.2. Sinni is so small and efficient that we rarely drop that low. We will have >12.2 volts when the first light of morning hits the solar panels on the roof. As a result, I am not quick to turn off the lamp that give the room a cozy, comforting glow.

Canon Mountain above us is shrouded in low hanging clouds. I can only make out a very little bit of its peak. The forest is our protector and the mountains give us strength. The rushing creeks lift our spirits while the animals - deer, bear and a wide variety of birds - remind us that we are never alone.

A handsome and confident white-tail buck watches majestically from a distance. A lovely young mulie - mule deer - doe stands at the edge of our campsite trying to figure out our fifteen year old Pomeranian. His name is Theodore Ursus. Maybe she thinks he looks like a tiny teddy bear too. A magnificent blackbear makes his daily trek down to McDonald Creek, checking out the picnic area before morning's light, and returning to the mountain. He always goes behind us but never stops to visit.

The rain has passed. All that is left is the patter of drips off the tall cedars above us. The sound of the two creeks returns accompanied by the high single whistle of the Varied Thrush. The sky is still light. In a few days it will not get dark at all through the night. Nevertheless the forest will. It is time for the night-time predators, the pine martens and barn owls, to begin hunting silently as we sleep.

You have never experienced dark until you have been in a place like Glacier or the desert where there is no human light pollution. Glacier is a dark-sky park which means that it is dark enough here that we are able to see Northern Lights and the Milky Way like few other places on the globe.

Nitsitapiisinni - our way of life. No where are we happier than when we are in the wilderness. No where else do we feel more alive. Perhaps the hundreds of days and nights we've spent in the wilderness, sometimes as much as sixty miles away from the chaos and trappings of so-called civilization, has awakened a primordial longing. Perhaps our time has enabled us hear and heed the call to return to the oneness with all of nature.

As the rain becomes a memory the forest wraps us in the comforting blanket of darkness and Unci Maka ₍₂₎ sings us a lulaby. Nitsitapiisinni.

FOOTNOTES =====

(1) Sinni is the name of our twenty foot camper trailer and short for Nitsitapiisinni - Blackfeet for "our way of life." For those who don't know us, we are full-timers and Sinni is our home.

(2) Unci Maka means Grandmother Earth.  

MOVING OFF THE GRID - LIFE AS A NOMADIC FULL-TIMER

The rain was a gentle patter inside Nitsitapiisinni (nicknamed "Sinni"), our twenty-foot camper trailer home. Rain is normally a very pleasant experience inside a camper and, for us, is rather like putting an old-fashioned clock in with a puppy to help it sleep. This would have been true on this particular night had we not been camped on a narrow peninsula in the desert created by two dry gulches. Long before I ever camped on the desert I had learned that you don't camp in dry gulches no matter how inviting they may be. We weren't in the gulches and I figured that both were sufficiently deep to handle the 1.5 to 3 inches of annual rainfall in the Sonoran Desert. Nevertheless this was our first time this far off the grid. Little did we know that the Sonoran Desert was about to receive one-half of its annual rainfall in one night. Thankfully we didn't learn this fact until later.

We are, what I call "Nomads". I started using the term "nomads" in February of 2017. For some reason it seems to make more sense than "full-timers" when describing the distinct group of full-timers into which we fall. A lot of full-timers, and probably the original full-timers, give up sticks-n-bricks (a house) in favor of an RV or trailer which they take to a gated community with full hookups (water, electric & sewage), swimming pool, community hall and activities, etc., in a state like Florida or Arizona where they stay from September or October to April or May. Some live at the same place almost year around. The group I call "nomads" have likewise given up sticks-n-bricks but we move around and rarely, if ever, stay in a gated RV community. There are three main reasons that we move - (i) there is a stay limit where we are camped, (ii) the weather, and (iii) we just feel like moving on. We generally stay in no-cost or low-cost dispersed camping areas. In the west there are lots of areas where one can camp for 14-16 days at no cost. There are some areas where you can stay an unlimited time because it is just too remote to be checked often. If we hear of a really bad storm, extreme cold or other less than pleasant conditions, we will determine whether or not our location is a good place to ride out bad weather. If it isn't, we go in search for the best place to hunker down. Wanderlust vies with stay limits for primary cause. We will read or hear of some place that we'd really like to visit. Off we go. We may also get a call or text from one of our nomadic friends to meet them somewhere for a few days.

When we do hit the road we rarely know where we're going to stop for the night. Sometimes we have a fair idea of the general area we're seeking. There may be a park or some feature that we want to see and we will head toward it and find dispersed camping nearby. We have also been known to see a local park of interest and just pull in.

When our 2016 season at Glacier National Park ended on September 29th 2016 we made our way back to visit family and friends in the midwest and south. After a granddaughter's wedding we started west. Little by little we found ourselves being drawn more and more off the grid. It didn't take us long to realize that the off-the-grid nomad was our life-style.

We had been staying at Corp of Engineers (COE) campgrounds and a couple of state parks as we moved westward toward Quartzsite, AZ. We had been in free dispersed camping about five or six miles southwest of Quartzsite, AZ for two weeks. Even though the masses of campers that converge on Quartzsite every January were gone, we still had a number of campers around us. There were also a number of prospectors, camped along dry gulches, digging holes in the side of the gulch looking for gold. There were a number of hand-dug and timbered deep shaft gold mines that had been blocked off by the government. Prospecting is legal but deep shaft mines are unsafe. The prospectors around us were understandably suspicious of anyone getting near their digs. We didn't realize that we were camped on almost the exact spot where gold was first discovered in Arizona.

After two weeks outside Quartzsite we decided to move south and east near the KOFA Wildlife Refuge. We had been told that an area of free dispersed camping along the Palm Canyon Road was outstanding. We found a marvelous place where we had Sinni's big back window facing the mountains of KOFA refuge. At this time we had only our two 80 watt portable solar panels, but they provided quite adequate power to charge our two new 6 volt, 224 amp hour batteries connected in series to give us 12 volts with 224 amp hours. We were a good hundred yards or so from the dirt road that led into the refuge about a mile further east. There was a meditation circle someone had made about fifty yards from us. That was the only sign of human existence. The nearest town was 25 miles away and we knew that there we two other campers some miles into the refuge on the Queen Canyon Road, which is definitely a four-wheel drive only road. We had traveled the Queen Canyon Road that day. Some of the drops were so bad that I had to stop and remove our big Blue Ox receiver because it would bottom out.

On any clear night you can see the Milky Way with amazing clarity because there is absolutely no light polution. It was magnificent. We were happy, content and totally at home. We had confidence in our truck ("Mighty Moe") and Sinni. That was when we knew. We were nomads.

The furthest we every were from so-called civilization was at a place called Hite in southern Utah. We were sixty miles from the nearest village, gas or phone and camped on an open area just above the Colorado River. It happened to be a small fee area. At one time in its history it was a bustling marina, but as the lake receded the marina was abandoned and nomads, such as ourselves, and primitive campers took possession. There were two other campers near us. We became friends with one couple and shared meals and information in the evenings after we returned from our day's adventures.

Some of our nomad friends never leave the southwest. They move down along the Mexican border during the coldest part of the winter and move into the mountains in northern Arizona and New Mexico as the temperatures climb. Because we do really love our new home; Columbia Falls, MT.; and Glacier National Park where we volunteer as camp hosts along with other duties, we anticipate an annual pilgrimage north and south, driven by weather and the park season. We will undoubtedly explore new areas and want to spend some time in New Mexico, but we have some favorite places where we know we can spend a comfortable and enjoyable winter.

Our twenty-foot trailer has everything we need for comfortable living. I often joke about the fact that we use the term "camping" but I don't really consider what we do to be camping. The people who sleep on the ground, cook outside and rely on a tent and -20 degree sleeping bag to stay warm are camping. We merely take our comfortable home, albeit quite tiny by most standards, with us. When we're on the road we're never more than eighteen feet from home. We have electricity, a furnace, hot and cold running water, an 8 cubic foot fridge, a really good gas stove with oven, a walk-around bed and our bathroom even has a bathtub. What more could you want? The biggest thing about being a nomadic full-timer is that you must be totally self-contained. If we had a good source of drinking water and a way of properly disposing of our sewage, the only thing that would force us to go to town would be propane. We can go about a month on our two thirty pound cylinders.

Moving off the grid is not for everyone. Some people don't like the isolation or may fear being so far from a town. Other are very honest about being afraid of things that go bump in the night. At this writing we have seen fifteen bears in ten days. Many people find the idea of depending upon PV (photovoltaic energy - the name for the new solar technology) and not having city water, microwave, TV, etc., intolerable. Downsizing is a significant barrier to anyone contemplating any sort of full-timing. My entire wardrobe, including park uniform and coats, is contained in one 17" closet, two 11" square designer bins, and a corner of the under-the-bed storage area. You can pack a lot into a 40 foot motor home (Class-A) but then you're limited to where you can go. We're only twenty feet long, so we can go almost anywhere. We have 160 square feet in the trailer and use our 6'6" covered truck bed for storage and to carry our kayaks, bicycles, back-country equipment and scuba diving gear.

Living the nomadic life is quite inexpensive. Between May 2016 and May 2017 we spent $1,508.65 on site fees, $268.62 on propane, $5,821.99 on gasoline (for the truck), and around $7,800 on food and incidentals. Our basic living cost for the year was $15,399.26. BUT one should not consider this life-style to save money. Firstly, almost half of our year is spent volunteering for the National Park Service. For our volunteer time we are given a camp site for Sinni. You really need to love the parks and being a park volunteer to do this. It is work. People who volunteer for the purpose of getting a free camp site are terribly disappointed and don't last long. Secondly, we find our way of life very comfortable and enjoyable, but not everyone would agree with us, especially if they can't do without television, internet, malls, restaurants, and all the trappings of the city.

For us being off the grid is bliss. We travel around the country enjoying some of the most magnificent scenery and wilderness on the planet. We spend our lives as far away from urban congestion and suburban sprawl as possible. We avoid all of the life-draining ugliness and chaos of what humans call civilization. We would much rather be deep in the forest or out in the desert than in an RV park or resort. We have many friends who share our passion for being off the grid but we do often spend extended periods of time in what many would call isolation or solitude. But we don't see it that way. The mountains give us strength. The trees and plants give us shelter and provide unparalleled beauty. The animals are our friends. Nitsitapiisinni - our way of life.

Life

Sitting looking out the large bay window in the back of our trailer home, Sinni, I look at mountains and mesa, buttes and canyons that are the result of billions of years of wind and water. The desert landscape is scattered with clumps of grasses and scraggly shrubs struggling to survive. The scene is beautiful, made more awesome by the cooperation of cloud and sun constantly changing the appearance of the land. A distant butte goes from a solemn dark giant to a shinning monolith of dark chocolate brown topped with white. It is almost a flashing beacon or sign saying 'I will not give in. I am strength.'

Looking across the Colorado River at the massive walls hundreds and hundreds of feet thick cut by the persistent river I can see layers of time designated by color and texture. The story of this land lies exposed for all to see. Sadly I do not yet have the skill to read it but I will try to learn. I will seek to understand. Even sadder, however, is that so many people, even those who will admire the land's beauty, will not give a thought to what it tells us.

The land tells us a great deal. It teaches us and will guide us if we but stop and listen. We humans are poor listeners. Perhaps that is because we don't believe that anything but humans have anything to teach. In a way that is ironic since we are the newest creature here and have the most to learn. Perhaps that is why we have made such a mess of everything we get near.

Sit and watch and listen to the land. Watch that strange shaped rock at the top of the mesa. Watch it closely and listen carefully. So many would tell me they head nothing and saw no change, no movement, no life. That is so far from the truth. That boulder changed and the sound of the wind attests to that. It may have lost some of its mass to the wind while you actually watched. It may have accepted a fine layer of dust from the wind that was once a part of another rock many miles away. But that boulder, like all the land, is ever changing. It tells us "even though I'm a mountain I will not be here forever. I had a birth which lasted thousands of millennium and I will some day be gone. Only my story, written in the layers of the land, will tell of my existence. Yet I will not die. I will always be a part of the land. Only my form will change."

The rock that changes over billions of years may not be organic life but it is a part - a vital part - of the life of this planet. The land is alive. It isn't sentient life but that does not make it any less alive. Like an animal or a plant, the land is a complex combination of molecular, atomic and sub-atomic activity. We can not adequately define life scientifically. Even philosophy fails. How can we exclude that which shares so much with us? The more I read quantum physics the more I am convinced that the magnificent, strong and seemingly indestructible mountains around me are nothing more or nothing less than a different manifestation of our oneness. We are both the manifestation of the sum total of elements that cling together, by forces yet to be understood, flying through space at an unimaginable speed. Quantum physics is seeing more and more evidence that even this planet has a oneness with the universe and what appears as empty space is really quite full.

The land tells me this. Even as I learn to read its story. Even as deep canyons and giant mountains tell us about ancient seas, long forgotten creatures, atmospheric change, bombardment from outer space, continental migration and much more, it tells us about life. It shows us that time, as commonly understood by humans, is merely an abstract we use to get to our next appointment. Time has a very different purpose and definition in quantum physics which I will not try to relate here. But

the life around me - the life of which I am one - tells me that human time is really inconsequential.

As a sentient creature in this collective life I, unlike my animal sisters and brothers and unlike the rock and plants around me, can decide whether I am to be a deadly, destructive cancer cell or a cell with the goal and purpose of protecting the whole organism - the life of the universe.

The mountains, my kin - a part of my being, have so much to teach me about patience and endurance. I will endeavor to watch and listen carefully to the lessons they have for me.

Plants, many of whom have been killed by human negligence yet struggle and re-emerge fifty to one-hundred years latter, have so much to teach me about perseverance. I stand in awe and hope to learn from them as I struggle to keep my fellow humans from destroying life on this fragile planet.

All other sentient beings, all of whom have been a part of this collective life and this world much longer than humans, have so much to teach us about survival and being a productive part of nature. I will treat them with respect and love, and learn from them.

Life is not my personal beginning and end in this human form. Life is not a collection of organic specimens which I decide are worthy of existence. Life is the entire planet as a part of the cosmos, and you and I are called upon to decide whether we are a cancer or the means of future life.  

Learn from history - renewable energy now!

Let's learn a lesson from history. Go back to the first of the 20th century and you would find the leaders of the horse and buggy industry telling American workers that they were going to be out of jobs and totally destroyed by the automobile. They were telling the public that it was in insidious invention that would destroy the economy and bring great harm to everyone. Those related to the horse and buggy industry got legislation passed that was designed specifically to undermine and stop the automobile. The automobile did seem to be a rich person's toy. They cost a lot of money until Henry Ford. And yes, they did causes the demise of the horse and buggy as the chief mode of American everyday transportation. Gone were the livery stables. Gone were the smithies. Gone were the buggy shops. Horse ranches are still around but a good farrier is hard to find. In the place of the livery stable, smithie and buggy shop there was an explosion of manufacturing jobs. Entire new industries grew up around the automobile - it needed metal ... it needed fuel ... it needed rubber for tires ... it needed engineers, mechanics, technicians ... it needed places to fix them when they broke and places where one could buy the fuel. The automobile did a lot more than just replace the horse and buggy and provide a plethora of new job fields, it also brought down the cost of the new contraption and enabled other industries to grow and prosper - farming and transportation for example. The automobile didn't hurt the common person. It benefited them. The only people who faced ruin because of the automobile were the very few extremely rich people who controlled and amassed their fortunes from the horse and buggy, and all they had to do was make the switch and they were back in business.

Sadly I don't think the American people have ever understood the lesson that the automobile should have taught us. Now we again hear the cry for coal and oil. Yes, it is the common person who has the "coal turns on the lights" bumper stickers. But what ever gave them the idea that only coal and oil can serve the best needs of the people? Guess! The extremely wealthy who have amassed great fortunes on the backs of the people who labored in the mines and oil fields. Who is it that says that solar and wind energy won't work? ... again, those who have amassed great wealth from coal and oil.

All forms of renewable energy methods have proven their worth. Why are they so expensive? Because those who control legislation are those who are owned by coal and oil and they make laws trying to keep solar and other renewable energy sources at bay. Yes, they will lose money if these so-called alternative energy sources prevail. BUT the common person, like they did a century ago, will benefit. Today coal, including transportation and power generation, only provides 174,000 jobs. Two years ago solar energy provided 209,000 full-time jobs and is growing. That does not include the manufacture of solar panels, installation, maintenance, technicians, and a host of other new and exciting possibilities.

Yes, that poor man in Kentucky might not be able to crawl into a dangerous hole each day and end up with black lung so that he can make his personal fortune. He might be forced to work in the sunlight and live a long and healthy life. Also, the product that he extracts from the earth would no longer be able to be burned and cause acid rain polluting the air and water in neighboring states. Could we possibly give up these scenario just to have better lives and a cleaner environment? YES! Definitely!! And if you're worried about the poor robber baron not keeping his uncountable fortune, I can guarantee that within a few years he'll own more than his fair share of the solar industry just like those who owned the buggy factories and switched to making cars or car parts. History has shown us that, like the poor, the mega-rich who believe that you and I exist to serve him will always be with us.

One of the big reasons that the mega-rich will do everything in their power to keep the common person ignorant of the benefits of renewable energy resources is control. The last thing in the world they want to happen is for you to realize that for an amazingly affordable price and a little education you can be almost totally independent. Their uncountable fortunes depend upon keeping control of people and making them dependent. Those of us who live off the grid make them very unhappy. They have lost control of us. You would be amaze at the many thousands of people who have learned the truth and have broken free. (I wish I had a better count, but I can tell you that there are probably 2-3,000 within a mile of us as I write.)

Pamela and I are now living 100% self-produced solar energy. We do still cook with propane but I'll admit that is preference. We currently have two solar panels that provide all the power we need. We run everything except a microwave and air conditioner. (We don't desire to use those so they're superfluous for us.) Tomorrow we're going to have two more stationary panels put on Sinni. We will have the ability to generate enough power to run almost anything we want. We have also seen those around us using small personal wind generators. I'm looking at that for times we're under heavy forest canopy. The thing is that renewable energy sources are easy, clean, and less expensive to use and maintain. Like so many others, we are free.

Now I do realize that if you live in a city you do not have as many options as we have. If you live in a free-standing house you can go solar for $10,000 or less. There is a tiny town in northwestern Montana that is 100% solar and most of the farms around the town are either solar or hydro-electric. If you can do solar in northwestern Montana, you can do it anywhere. If you live in an apartment or other situation where you can't have your own source of energy, you can help pressure government to move toward solar energy for your town.

Let's learn from history and rejoice at the success of the renewable energy industries. Tell your Senator and Representative to quit wasting your time and money on trying to save coal and oil for the mega-rich who want it, and start helping us all get clean, safe and affordable renewable energy.  

Electric Vehicles aren't impossible for US

There's a very interesting post going around Face Book that caught my attention. It is about Norway being "realistically" on its way to being 100% EV (electric vehicle) by 2025. I had to do some research. Granted, it was only a couple of hours or so, but it was good research and the information was readily available from good and reliable sources. In February 2015 Norway's National Transportation Plan 2018-2029 set the goal of 100% EV by 2025. Before someone gets their nose bent out of shape, stops reading, and starts ranting about how it is easier for Norway to do this, let me say that as wonderful as it would be for the US, there are at least three very real and critical issues that would need overcome - two of the US problems and one of a global nature.

Norway has the largest per capita use of EV in the world. If you look at the numbers and at the trend, they could pull this off. One of the biggest negative aspects in the US is that most electricity is still generated by "dirty" methods; e.g. fossil fuels. Only 13.3% of our energy comes from solar and 16.7% comes from photovoltaic.(1)  Wind accounts for 4% and water accounts for 6.1% of our electricity.(2)  If the US were to have 37% of our vehicles be EV right now, we would be creating almost as much pollution by generating the necessary electricity. Norway, on the other hand, has the cleanest fleet in the world using 98% hydro to generate the electric demand. Got us there. But we do have tremendous green resources in this country. The problem is that we refuse to turn to them because it means that someone might not have the opportunity to crawl down a hole and get black lung. We are doing the same thing today that Americans did at the turn of the 20th century where they tried to stop the production of cars because they were going to put horse and buggy people out of work. Of course we all know how that turned out. (Hint: look in your garage or driveway.) There were way more well paying jobs in the new auto industry. The same is happening today. The solar industry alone (in 2015) was providing 204,000 full-time jobs while coal, including transportation of coal and burning of coal in a power plant, only had 174,000 full-time jobs. Solar alone is already surpassing dirty and archaic methods. But this is another argument I don't want to tackle here. Suffice it to say, Norway has an advantage because it's power is already 98% green. Nevertheless, I would dare to say we have more potential renewable power sources than Norway. Our sheer size, which we will see later is one of our biggest excuses for doing nothing about most things, is to our benefit. We can put wind generators in fields surrounded by wheat or corn. We have a tremendously large amount of our country that is ideal for solar generation. Did you know that Rome is the same latitude as New York City?

Before we get too far into the subject, let me briefly share the global problem that pro-renewable advocates frequently forget, making them ripe targets for the old-guard fossil fuel advocates; viz. the pollution factors related to the producing, maintaining and disposal of batteries. Battery technology has come light years and the problems aren't quite as serious as nuclear power rods, but there are still issues that will need to be addressed. We are already beginning to recycle batteries. We must just get a lot more efficient. If you are interested in the new battery technology, check out the new lithium deep cell batteries for use with solar panels. They are lighter, greener and amazingly more efficient. Granted they cost $1200 for a 100 AmpHr battery, but you can run them down to zero. A 224 AmpHr AGM battery or battery system costs about $1000 and can only be run down 50% without hurting it. So price wise you're getting as much, if not more, for your money. But that's another topic. 

The third, and perhaps most difficult, problem to overcome is our size. We love to use our size to get us out of doing anything from switching to metric to using solar energy. It is really a very poor excuse but we're so good at using it and we use it so frequently that we've all come to believe that it is as certain as gravity or death. I will, however, admit that our size does make this issue more of a challenge. People in Europe have no idea how big North America is. Europe could easily be put inside Alaska with room to spare. Actually much of Europe could fit in Texas or Montana. Most Americans have no idea how small Europe is. Friends of mine, when I lived in Dublin, owned a car. They would fill up in Dublin; take the ferry to Hollyhead, Wales; drive across England to south of London; take another ferry to France; drive from the North Sea to the French Riviera; button hook through Italy and Switzerland; and get gas in Austria, because it had cheaper gas.

Yes, we have much bigger vehicles because we use them differently. We have exceptionally poor public transportation ever since the slogan "a car in every garage" caught public attention. When I lived in Dublin only about 3% of the population owned cars. We didn't need to. I usually walked into the university each day, but, if I wanted, I could catch a bus or train at a very affordable cost just a couple of blocks from home.

What all this means is that we do have a challenge that other smaller countries don't have ... we have to come up with vehicles capable of meeting our transportation needs. We're going to have to find ways to make the EV go further before charging and generally carry a bigger payload. I know that we have the technological knowledge and skills to meet these needs. It is a matter that we don't want to meet them. Back in the late 1970s I owned a 100% EV garden tractor. The electric motor generally has more torque than an internal combustion engine. While tractors of equal size couldn't pull a plow, I actually pulled discs through my 1/4 acre garden. It was made by General Electric. They dropped the project beause there was too much objection by the gas-motor tractor industry. They sold their line of electric tractors to a company that made gas tractors. Of course they were soon gone and forgotten. Of course, we could also start working our way back to good public transportation which would be a double-win for us.

Weaning ourselves off of fossil fuels is going to be the biggest challenge. Tell someone something long enough and they will believe it. We've been told that we can't live without fossil fuel for so long that very few of us doubt it. The truth of the matter is that that isn't true. I bet many people really know the truth but if we were to admit it we'd have to do something about it or admit that we're not world leaders but archaic technoslugs.

FOOTNOTES.

(1)  Scientist will tell you that CSP (solar cells) create electricity therefore they are photovoltaic (PV) but that there is a systemic difference between CSP and PV. That's why I provided both numbers for the US.  

(2) These numbers do not reflect the private individuals who generate their own power like the people of the North Fork in Montana who personal use solar, wind and hydro power generated on their own property and not turned back into the grid.  Just within a mile of where we are at present there are several hundreds of  couples/families living totally off the public power grid and generating their own electricity. Most of it is solar but there are more and more wind generators. I'm considering getting a wind generator as well. 

A Visit to Kofa National Wildlife Refuge

Kofa Mts in Kofa Nat'l Wildlife Refuge (looking east)

Kofa is a 664,327 acre refuge that was set aside in 1939 to protect the desert bighorn sheep. More than eighty percent of Kofa is current protected under the Wilderness Act of 1964. Camping is permitted in the refuge but is limited to 14 days a year and must be within 100 feet of a road, thereby protecting the environment. We are camped on BLM land just outside the refuge on the Palm Canyon Road. The GPS coordinates of the intersection of Palm Canyon Road and Route 95 are 33.372998 -114.173423.*

The refuge is dominated by the Kofa Mountain range which rises suddenly in the flat plains of the Sonoran Desert south-southeast of Quartzsite, AZ. The refuge actually has a Yuma, AZ address but Yuma is at least another 50 minues south. The parts of the refuge we have seen appear quite pristine. There is not the trash and litter that we saw in so much of the BLM land around Quartzsite. Sadly, there are warnings on printed material and roadside information centers that the area was used for military training during World War II and there are still unexploded ordinances such as handgrenades and land-mines.

Visiting in early February, the temperatures are quite pleasant. Our first day here it was 82, but it was cooler the rest of our stay. It is a good 500 feet higher elevation than where we stayed in the Dome Rock Mts by Quartzsite and almost 800 feet higher than the town of Quartzsite. The night time temperatures are in the high fifties as the weather is starting to get warmer.

What passes for a road. It doesn't
look as bad in the picture as
it actually is.

On our first day of exploration we travelled up to Palm Canyon as well as Kofa-Queen Canyon. They are both areas of great beauty and interest, and well worth the trips BUT I do have to warn you about the roads. According to the refuge's literature, "most roads require the use of a four-wheel drive vehicle." The Palm Canyon Road, which goes from highway 95 all the way to the canyon, is a fairly good dirt road wide enough for two vehicles to pass. I wouldn't try it with a vehicle too low to the ground, but if you have relatively good road clearance, you shouldn't have a problem. You'll know long before you get to the entrance to the refuge. At the entrance to the refuge, which is simply a sign and an information kiosk, the Kofa Queen Canyon road turns north-east off the Palm Canyon Road. I almost hate to use the term 'road' in the same sentence as Kofa Queen Canyon. The Kofa Queen Canyon Road is two ruts on very rough terrain. It crosses numerous washes which mean some rather difficult drops, turns and climbs. Don't even think about taking this road without four-wheel drive. I had to stop and take off my hitch after our big Blue Ox hitch - which is lower than the truck and sticks quite a ways out the back - kept dragging through the washes. Even after removing the hitch, I was very careful going through the washes because many had sides with very angular and sharp rocks along with steep, narrow sides. There were times that we were at such a tilt I was afraid of the side of the truck being scratched by rocks on the edge of the road. It is not a trip for the faint hearted nor anything less than a good four-wheeler.

Palm Canyon

Palm Canyon has a half mile trail that leads up into the narrow canyon where you can view the palm trees growing on a shelf. There was one other developed trail that we observed although you are free to hike anywhere. Coming from the mountains where the vegetation is very fragile, I avoided getting off the path and would recommend great caution off trail. There are two reasons for this caution: first, there is some fragile plant life and no vegetation needs our big feet trampling them. Second, many of these plants have thorns or needles as protection. If you're not careful it could be very painful.

We saw miles and miles of Teddy Bear Cholla cacti (cylindropuntia bigelovii) most of which were beginning to bloom. Then there were the stately Saguaro (Carnegiea gigantea), both types of barrel cacti - the echinocactus and ferocactus - and the ocotillo (fouquieria splendens) which is not really a cactus. The life in the desert is amazing. There was a great deal of palo verdes (Parkinsonia aculeata), which literally means 'green tree' since the bark and branches are quite green. They were especially abundant in the Kofa Queen Canyon area.

Pamela next to a large bolder of rhyolite

The mountains are rhyolite, which I believe is volcanic ash which, when mixed with water, acted like cement and created the rock we see today. It breaks easily and does so along planes. (See picture) The rock has a redish brown color. We don't see the tremendous amount of quartz on the west side of the refuge where we're staying but the refuge flyer says that there is an area where people can collect and keep quartz.

Kofa Queen Canyon

A Teddy Bear Cholla cactus
ready to bloom

Kofa is a wilderness area, so you want to visit prepared. No matter how little you plan to hike or how close you think you will stay to your vehicle be sure to have plenty of water, snacks, and sunscreen. Dress properly when you are out. A hat, not a baseball cap, is the best headwear. Even then you will want to put sunscreen on your face and neck if you are going to be out. Sunglass are also essential. I use photogrey (transitional) when I'm driving and polaroid whenever I go outside. If you are just getting out to look around and aren't going to hike, short sleeve shirts and shorts are okay. Just remember the sunscreen. If you are going to hike - even the one mile round trip to the Palm tree observation - it would be best to have long sleeves and trousers. Always wear either hiking boots or good substantial shoes. Sneakers, flip-flops, etc., are not really good. Just walking around looking at the sights, this type of footwear will leave you with sore, and likely, bruised feet at the end of the day. The desert floor is hard and covered with rocks. These rocks can cut, poke and give you nasty bruises if your footwear is inadequate. No matter how hot, I wear wool socks and my Keen high hiking boots. If you are going off on a trail, trail poles or a walking stick and day pack with first aide kit, survival gear and plenty of water, some energy and salty snacks are a must. I don't go out without a map and compass. You are in the wilderness when you're in Kofa. It is a marvelous place and you will have a great time, but there's no reason to risk that great time by not being prepared.

Have a great time and tell that magnificent, giant, four-armed Saguaro just before you get to the entrance that Pamela and Russ sent you.

Happy travels.

======= NOTES ============

* If you have never used the GPS feature on Google Maps, simply put the coordinates in the search line and it will take you to that spot.