Keep the Car Running

A portion of this week was spent up at a little piece of wilderness heaven near Mount Pleasant. Most of my energy was exhausted by setting up, making/serving food, decorating and doing other campy things: attending flag, applying mosquito repellant, starting things on fire, attempting to sing songs I thought as a teen (and still do think) that I am too cool for i.e. “Sippin’Cider,” and “Wadaliacha.” Really? Who wrote those songs? They are an embarrassment to American culture. Well, maybe I don’t really mean that. It is good for people to do silly stuff, it might be too indecorous for me, though.

Anyway, because I just got the serious-person job, I had to show up at the office 3 days this week, so Tuesday night I drove home. The way to the campground is curvy and next to a cliff most of the way. As I was driving down at sunset I got to see the trees in this incredible, golden light. Each conifer was luminescent and although the light was fading, the details of each tree were clearer as the sun passed into the distance.

It is times like these that I think, I wish I had an incredible camera so I could capture this moment. That thought is immediately followed by the knowledge that even the most talented photographer can never really capture this moment: visceral reaction to light and chlorophyll and oxygen and the fuzzy-horned deer that lifts its head from the tall grass. I am grateful for those moments; I consider them a benefaction from above.

By the time I arrived at the bottom of one of the curvy roads leading from the camp turned the wrong direction. There are apparently two ways to drive up to the camp. One was outlined on a map distributed that morning and the other was the direction given by one of the 16-year-veteran girl’s camp leaders in the car with me on the way up. I saw a sign for Route 6 (a road from the map) and thought I would be less likely to get lost, now that the evening had turned from gold to purple. The road was made of dirt, rocks and potholes and began uphill. Up mountains and into valleys, past groves and open fields into a herd of black cows sitting in the middle of the road. The calves, still unsure of what vehicles are all about stood until I got within a few feet. When I got too close they did this unnatural sideways skittering with a look of terror in their eyes. The bulls and cows just stood there, unflinching, forcing me to drive around their solid, substantial bodies.

Then I drove and drove and drove on this road into what felt like a horror film. There were no houses, no lights, no signs of life just a few abandoned trucks on the side of the road. I kept thinking of Ed Gein, that creepy guy who Jame “Buffalo Bill” Gumb is based on in “Silence of the Lambs.” I have got to stop reading about serial killers. I decided I was only driving this direction for 20 minutes and as soon as 9:00 hit, I was turning around no matter what. Well the time came, it was still the middle of nowhere and I made a U-turn, back through the woods, past the trucks and the stubborn bovine and 45 minutes after I had made the turn, I was back at the sign. The one that alleged that Route 6 was the direction I had just come from. I glanced to see if I had made a mistake. Nope. It was 28 miles that way, meaning I was probably almost there when I turned around. I drove home in the dark and got home nearly an hour later than I had planned.

There are many ways to get to the right place but occasionally you take the Robert Frost road and end up in arboreal arches surrounded by your own fears and obstinate livestock. Mistakes, decisions and getting lost are part of the process of making it back to where you started or maybe just back home.

I am growing tired, so instead of telling more stories I am making a list of this week's highlights:

-I built a fire in the rain. . The score at the end of the night was Team Heidi + Fire = 1 Team Water + Wind = 0 Take that nature!

-An albino cat crossed my path on the way to a party. I think that means I am supposed to have good luck, right?

- Heather told me The Arcade Fire is releasing a new album next month. Wahoo! I have been listening to Funeral and Neon Bible to prepare. Also, in other good music news, Brandon Flowers of The Killers is releasing a solo album, so Hot Fuss, Sam’s Town, and Sawdust have been keeping me up on long drives.

- Lots of deer were seen this week, which normally wouldn’t be that cool because they walk into my neighborhood all of the time, but there were two that caught my attention. The first one I already gave a shout-out to, but still deserves some consideration. He was a teenager and consequently had fuzzy horns. RAD! I also saw a super-tiny baby deer. It was only about 3 feet tall and had the white spots. It was trapped on the cliff side of the road so I drove very slowly as it scurried to the side and front of me. It finally got up the courage to cross the road and it hopped with such speed that it brought its legs in and out at the same time. It looked like it was bouncing! Baby deer are so dang adorable I could just squeal. (It is possible that I might have.)

-I held two babies (human) this week and cooed at them. Their moms must think I am nuts but infants make me crazy happy.

- Car Talk- Those guys crack me up. I caught the end of this week’s show driving up to Salt Lake yesterday. If you don’t listen to that radio program you should. Also, This American Life is pretty much the best thing that ever happened on the radio (and possibly TV). I think I have heard about every episode they have ever produced and I have realized that I am annoying at parties or in conversations when I constantly reference that show. Nerdiness abounds. Thank you Sara, for the introduction.

-Diane Rehm – Apology-
This was a show about, as you may have guessed, is the art of apology. The most poignant thing they discuss is the “I am sorry if…” statement. They point out that it is not a real apology if you shift the focus from your mistakes to the feelings of the injured party. For example saying, “I am sorry if I hurt your feelings,” isn’t a real apology. A real expression of regret sounds more like, “I am sorry I said those things about you, I was wrong.” It was great to feel validated. I am tired of the “I’m sorry if…” statements! Granted, I do this too so it was a real wake up call to me. I am going to try and be more careful when I express remorse.

-I stumbled onto this blog and it made me laugh. That was me as a teen, more or less.

-I have been thinking about doing this. It might be the only time my stuff ends up in a museum.

That is it for the week. More soon.