7:14am a short walk to breakfast and coffee and coffee and its still cold but its only a short walk and....then.
"sorry guys."
"the what?"
"Again?"
"no one's seen the horses."
"Theres been an escape."
"A break out."
"They've discovered charley tunnel, we dig through the night."
I feel like its been much more than two weeks, but we're in town once again. the following is excerpts from letters and random writings and thoughts on another letter and anything.
Last weekend matt and i crossed 7 mile mountain, as it has been nicknamed. there is a summit just above the ranch known as the sleeping indian and this hill as we've begun to call them is connected by saddle and summit to a number of other mountains whose total distance is roughly? yes. sentences. no.
not far up the trail we discovered a fantastic waterfall which matt claimed looked like a movie set and essentially it just had to be done. we discovered a beautiful green lake that gave us our precise location on the map. the water was clear and sparkled in the sunlight. evergreens lined the bank and of course there were wildflowers. Its peaceful
on top of the hill and without a trail we drap ourselves to the nearest high point for a look around. we've discvered the edge of a cliff which we need to travel around. a similar story repeats itself, a number of times. this is partially due to what i've named the deceptive mountain distance. it can be related to more than mountains. the connected peaks are all sparse meadow and rock with the occasional patch of snow this late in the season. the snow reminds me of the merainge topping on lemon merainge pie. a discussion of they get that golden tint just near the pinnacle of the merainge gets us soundly around another cliff.
i think i'm learning to appreciate how the same trail can give new insight and new adventures at a different time of day or year. even only weeks apart hiking the same trail we've seen so many new things. matts glasses are now under only two feet of water in disappearing lake. i suppose its very possible that a second glance at a different time could change many things, in many aspects of life. maybe i should keep my eyes open.
Elbows.
rubbing elbows and elbow grease. what we do. who we meet. and don't.
the people who come to the ranch as guests are generally well off as far as i can tell. they come from across the country in private jets and bring nannies to watch the kids as they fly fish. they have ex-navy seals taking care of their kids and insist on the bell boy bringing their bags into the next room. all together though they're nice folk. polite, etc.
generally our work encompasses all areas of the ranch. we work in direct consultation with the chef to ensure dish sanitation and serving. manage the upkeep of secondary energy resources, supplement the labor force needed for habitation adjustments, work alongside those in charge of overseeing the recycling and wastemanagement programs and occassionally feed the horses hay, which subsequently is found in all of our clothes.
Wilderness camp.
For the past few weeks we've been setting up the wilderness camp where matt and i will spend nearly half our summer. with no one else in sight. we cut wood. and look at wildflowers. and build things. we cook. somewhat. and read and hike and find trails. we hiked with our boss, joe earlier this week and tied yellow tape around trees to mark our trail. a bit lost; along the way we passed red, white and orange tape. it was a good hike and will eventually be a good trail. ups and downs. like the mountains. such is life. "those are some big rain drops." "twould be hail"
matt and i sit cross legged at the edge of the meadow just above the camp. a large twisted evergreen tree accompanies us atop the hill and together we listen to the rustling long stalked yellow wild flowers whose name is unimportant in light of their grace. there are many insects. they buzz. tomorrow is another day.
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