Pow Wow in Suquamish

Photograph by Larry Bacon

Chief Seattle Days
from Kitsap Peninsula Visitor's Bureau

"This historical celebration, held the third week of August every year, features Traditional Native Dance Performances & Competitions, Indian Salmon Dinners, Traditional Canoe Races, Indian Arts & Crafts Vendors, and a Gravesite Ceremony in honor of Chief Seattle. Tribes from throughout the Northwest and beyond are represented. EVERYONE, Native
and Non-Native, is welcome to join in the celebration. "

"The first Chief Seattle Days was held in 1911 in downtown Suquamish and continues to be held on the orginal Celebration Grounds overlooking
Port Madison, Agate Passage and the City of Seattle, the namesake of Chief Seattle. The celebration honors Chief Seattle, the famous Suquamish chief who signed the Treaty of Point Elliott in 1855 that established the Port Madison Indian Reservation and delivered the famous speech used to support the cultural and spiritual values of indigenous people throughout
the world."

"Suquamish is on the Port Madison Indian Reservation, home of the Suquamish tribe. One of the most influential leaders of the Northwest, Chief Seattle, lived much of his life in Suquamish and is buried at Suquamish Memorial Cemetery.

Located along Agate Pass and on Madison Bay, Suquamish enjoys some of Kitsap Peninsula's most spectacular views, looking across Puget Sound at Seattle, the Cascade Mountains and Mt. Rainier. "

Summer In Suquamish

It is a lovely summer day in Suquamish. Just a few short months ago we wondered where we would be this summer of 2006 and then Karen came into our lives. Karen had an ad on housecarers. We responded and it was a real match for all of us. Karen is a lovely young woman. She is a merchant marine captain and she needed a housesitter for the summer. We are in a lovely spot surrounded by trees and just a 1/2 mile walk to the water where we look across to the skyline of Seattle. We are blessed indeed.
Charlotte

Where to go?

Thinking much today about what the next few weeks will hold. We are planning to move once again. It is a lovely warm day on the Hood Canal. We have been sitting by the water watching the ducks fly about. The seagulls seem to be content to just sit around by the inlet to the river. Larry says he isn't worried about "where" because he knows no matter where we are we will be together. We are looking for another housesit, hopefully in the northwest somewhere.
Charlotte

Mousetrap

What can we learn from a mousetrap?
A mouse looked through the crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife open a package. "What food might this contain?" The mouse wondered - he was devastated to discover it was a mousetrap.
Retreating to the farmyard, the mouse proclaimed the warning. "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"
The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said, "Mr. Mouse, I can tell this is a grave concern to you, but it is of no consequence to me. I cannot be bothered by it."
The mouse turned to the pig and told him, "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!" The pig sympathized, but said, "I am so very sorry, Mr. Mouse, but there is nothing I can do about it but pray. Be assured you are in my prayers."
The mouse turned to the cow and said "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!" The cow said, "Wow, Mr. Mouse. I'm sorry for you, but it's no skin off my nose." So, the mouse returned to the house, head down and dejected, to face the farmer's mousetrap alone.

That very night a sound was heard throughout the house -- like the sound of a mousetrap catching its prey. The farmer's wife rushed to see what was caught. In the darkness, she did not see it was a venomous snake whose tail the trap had caught. The snake bit the farmer's wife. The farmer rushed her to the hospital, and she returned home with a fever.

Everyone knows you treat a fever with fresh chicken soup, so the farmer took his hatchet to the farmyard for the soup's main ingredient. But his wife's sickness continued, so friends and neighbors came to sit with her around the clock. To feed them, the farmer butchered the pig.

The farmer's wife did not get well; she died. So many people came for her funeral, the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide enough meat for all of them. The mouse looked upon it all from his crack in the wall with great sadness. So, the next time you hear someone is facing a problem and think it doesn't concern you, remember -- when one of us is threatened, we are all at risk. We are all involved in this journey called life. We must keep an eye out for one another and make an extra effort to encourage one another.

SEND THIS TO EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER HELPED YOU OUT AND LET THEM KNOW HOW IMPORTANT THEY ARE. REMEMBER: EACH OF US IS A VITAL THREAD IN ANOTHER PERSON'S TAPESTRY; OUR LIVES ARE WOVEN TOGETHER FOR A REASON.

A Foggy Morning In Belfair

Larry: Our home has found us at last. We have rented a small condo on the Hood Canal in Belfair, WA. A succession of synchronous events led us to this place. Our front yard is literally the "toe end" of the Hood Canal, a long, odd arm of the Puget Sound. Our upstairs office widow overlooks a tidal pond that is always bustling with the activities of ducks. I've spotted at least three species so far. Then there are the shore birds - sea gulls and I think Sanderlings. The Sanderlings are funny little birds. They fly in tight formations that form a cloud of alternating white or tan, depending upon which way they turn. How they communicate their decision to turn at exactly the same instant is a mystery. We have a pair of resident bald eagles that we see daily.

Charlotte: This morning the fog is rolling in. I have already seen one of our bald eagles this morning. He likes to sit on the top of an old snag that has washed ashore. There are flocks of robins that have moved in this morning. They are sitting in the tree outside our office window. There are so many Larry said they look like fruit hanging in the tree. We have had many days of rain. The clouds, water, light.....the mood of this place is ever changing. The little salt water inlet to the east is a flurry of activity this morning and ducks of every description scurry here and there. A little songbird stopped by this morning to sit on our back fence and serrenade us. This has happened several times now so I can't help but think that it sees us by the window and comes by intentionally.

Missing In Action

By Charlotte

Wow! Here it is July 28th, 2005. Where does time go? We have been missing in action since the first of the year. We didn't feel like there was anything going on in our lives worth writing about. Hmmmmm? Is that really the truth? In retrospect there was alot going on. These may have actually been some of the most important months of our lives. The truth is that we were afraid to write about our searching and struggles where others could see. Maybe we didn't want to see. We have been on a journey of discovery. Where are we going? And why? "Why" has become the question of the day. It is like peeling away the skin of an onion. Just keep asking the question "why" and tell the truth.......not the truth that sounds good but the real down and dirty, get out of your head and into your heart truth. The "whys?" lead to the first response and then once examined, it is cast away and the search goes on. What is the real motive behind the action...... the real reason for the choices we make.

The other big question is "Why Are We Here"? Day by day we keep writing down the answers and getting closer and closer to the truth. We are living a life dedicated to a deepening of the spiritual journey. The choices we make ultimately serve that purpose.

Today finds us in Ballard, Washington which is really the northern area of Seattle. Our actual mailing address says Seattle, Washington. We are loving our time in the city. The last 4 weeks have been an unexpectedly delightful and rewarding experience.

Much has happened in the last few months to write about but...... maybe the timing wasn't right. We started off the year in Port Townsend, WA and then moved over to Indianola, which is on the Kitsap Peninsula. At waters edge we looked across at Seattle. For three months we lived in a small house in the woods. Our most important discovery there was that we don't want to live in the woods. It is fine for camping and long hikes but we want to live where we have distant vistas and big sky. That is what feeds our spirit.

We left there and headed east. I made a pilgrimage back to Texas to see relatives and revisit my childhood memories. The difference on this trip is that I chose to leave the rose colored glasses at home.

Today, here we are in Ballard. When we go to the water's edge on the west side of town we now find ourselves looking across at the Indianola pier. This is a quiet neighborhood of old homes and beautiful gardens. We are very thankful to be in Seattle this summer. They have been having a heatwave in Sacramento, where we spent last summer. We definately don't miss the long hot days of summer. We are house/pet sitting for Carolyn and her young son Scotland. They are in Europe for the summer. They were at the Tour de France when Lance won last week. This is a lovely old home, complete with Snitch, the golden retriever. Snitch is 2 years old and has more energy than we do. There is a lovely lake nearby, where we walk. Greenlake has a 2.8 mile path around the lake and lots of trees and shady lawn areas. We go there several days a week.

We have found another awesome spiritual community at the Seattle Unity Church with Richard Levy. We're taking a class based on Julia Cameron's book, "Vein of Gold". Given our "Golden" history, it's quite ironic. The class is requiring us to dig into our life for the "nuggets" that we all have hidden away - another big stretch for us.

Bremerton Memories

January 11, 2005
By Larry

We drove over to Poulsbo yesterday for lunch at a neat little Italian bistro overlooking the waters of Liberty Bay. This morning, while writing in my journal, I realized how close we were to Bremerton. In order to make some sense of this, I must bring you up to date. I joined the Navy in 1958 and was subsequently assigned to the USS Bon Homme Richard, an Essex class aircraft carrier. In the winter of 1959, our ship was drydocked in Bremerton, Washington for three or four months. During my free time, I explored the area, often taking the ferry across to Seattle. Now here, 45 years later, I'm exploring the area just north of Bremerton. The question arose - what forces, decisions, whims, nudges, etc. place us where we are at any given time?

I really enjoyed my Navy experience. In retrospect, I might have stayed in, making a career out of it except for the fact that I was married with two children by the time my first enlistment was up. I felt the family obligation of settling down and so it was. What process directs our lives like that or is it simply organized chaos that tosses us to and fro? In the fall of 1959, my buddies and I somehow wound up in an out-of-the-way, rundown honkytonk where I met my first wife. I don't know what the circumstances were that brought her and her girlfriend there that particular night. And what was there about a wet-behind-the-ears sailor, all of 19 years old and a single mother, already divorced and jaded by life that compelled us to make a life together? Was that marriage meant to only last until I met Charlotte or was Charlotte sent to pick me up when I fell? Meeting her has it's own set of circumstances that seem implausible.

How does all of this work in my life today? Is the end result already written somewhere? If so, what part do I get to play - the protagonist or the victim? We chose to come north this winter. The Merrils' housesit and now this one in Indianola came in handy but I think we were headed here anyway. Why? Are we supposed to meet certain people up here? Is each day up for grabs or are we on a set path? Is there a way to test this process? What if I purposely jumped outside the box on any given day? Suddenly veer off the freeway to check if anyone is following me? To simply see what will happen as a result? This whole idea of feeling out the complexities of this process, of becoming aware of the subtle nudges, whims, inspirations that life sends my way intrigues me. What about actually utilizing this process to fit my intentions. Is that how it all works? Simply set clear intentions for your life, for your years, for your weeks, for today and then joyfully - playfully tap into the Universal Potential that is our's for the asking in order to make those intentions a reality.

I may be onto something here! In order for God to help us, we must make our intentions crystal clear. How can we get "there" if we don't have a clear idea of where we are going? Okay, here are my intentions, God: I want to be of service to the world, to people who are less fortunate than I am. I realize that my life will not count for anything without reaching out to help others. My clear intention is to earn enough money to fund a "comfortable" lifestyle. I don't need a fancy, "display" home - just something large enough to accomodate two of us and our guests. I want to grow things - veggies and flowers. I see a green house up here, about 10 X 20 feet should do nicely. That would grow most of our fresh food needs year round. I intend to have a boat large enough to sleep four people. I would share my boat generously. I intend for our Mannatech business to fund my other intentions so I'd better make this intention clearest of all.

If the "hows" are none of my business, then all I have to do is be clear about the "whys". I see our lifestyle as being one of cycles. A period of service, perhaps in a foreign land or here at home. A period of restorative rest and recuperation would follow. We will have our home and our boat between service assignments where we can garden, fish, cruise and catch up with our writing and reading. Good food, good wine, wonderful get-togethers with good friends, a few weeks up in the inland fiords of BC and we'll be raring to go again!

Searching for Gibsons

December 21, 2004
In January, 2003, we moved to British Columbia with the idea that we could live there permanently. We had visited the little town of Gibsons on the Sunshine Coast several times on holiday and had fallen in love with it. The first time was in the fall of 1996. We had committed to an Alaskan cruise that departed Vancouver, BC on the Sunday of Labor Day weekend. We left Seattle with the plan to find a place to stay Saturday night in Vancouver but guess what? - There was no room at the inn! We couldn't find a vacancy anywhere. We happened to belong to Days Inn club so we called their help line. The nice young man in Tennessee told us there were vacancies in Gibsons, just a short drive north of Vancouver. We happily made reservations and headed out of town. The four lane freeway abruptly ended at the water. Thinking that we had missed the turn off, we retraced our path only to return to the water! After calling our Tennessee friend back, he rechecked and announced that there was a ferry crossing necessary to get there. After a magical late afternoon crossing, we drove into lower Gibsons and found our motel. Gibsons is a fishing village that time forgot. People walk the streets for entertainment, going down to the pier to watch boating traffic, looking at the towering, snow-covered mountains, spying the ferry on its hourly crossing. We were enchanted. Since we were very nervous about our cruise having never been on one before, we wished that we could have canceled it and spent the week in Gibsons. It was a good thing we didn't because our Alaskan cruise was magical - but that's another story.

Our home in Gibsons overlooked the harbor and we awakened each morning with eagerness. We went exploring by car and by foot. Almost every evening, we walked down to the harbor after dinner to look at the boats and daydream about where they had been or were going. We made friends at the coffee shops and spent hours conversing with them over a pastry and a cup. The accents were captivating, the customs just different enough to be interesting and the exchange rate fluctuated daily. We were in love with a new country, a new home, a new beginning.

Then in May or so, we met some ex-pat Americans who informed us that we could only stay for six months out of each calendar year. We resisted at first, determined to become illegal aliens, hiding from the vaunted Royal Canadian Mounties of lore. But eventually, sanity prevailed and we planned our departure, saddened but fulfilled by our time there. The only problem since then is that we tend to measure each place we visit by Gibsons standards and all fall woefully short. Just this morning, we realized that as much as we like the Port Townsend, Washington area, it's just not our Gibsons. Will we ever find a replacement?

Northwest Report

Almost two weeks in Port Townsend, Washington! My, how time has flown. What a glorious place this is with it's snow covered peaks, waterways and forests. We can see the Olympic range draped in it's winter coat of white from our chairs in the front room. On clear days we can see Mt. Baker, Mt. Rainer and the Cascades. This feels like home to us. We feel good in this environment.

We will be house/pet sitting here into the New Year. Our charges are one very large black dog (lab mix) - Markus and 2 cats, Suzie and Mimi. The cats are feral. Their owner, MaryAnn, has tamed them enough to be indoors. They are locked away in a bedroom while the bathroom remodel construction goes on here. They seem content enough in their room. Suzie has her leg in a cast from an injury she suffered when she escaped into the crawl space below the house. She spends most of her time securely nestled into the corner of a carpet lined box. She goes back to the vet in two weeks and has her cast removed. I am sure she'll be glad and so will we. She can't lift her bum leg into the litter box and often misses. Jay and MaryAnn have 2 horses who are boarded out in the country. We go by there once a week for a visit and to deliver a large bag of carrots.

We are camped out here but quite comfortable. The owner's have not moved their household furnishings up from California yet. We have a nice bed, camp chairs, a folding table, fridge, stove, washer and dryer. They recently installed a lovely gas fireplace, the nicest we have ever seen. The fire very much resembles the many campfires we have warmed ourselves by. We sit around the fire in the morning and evening.

This area requires exploring. No matter which road you take, it eventually reaches the water. The other day we were driving along the banks of the Dungeness Wildlife area near Sequim when we spied a bald eagle, high atop a scraggly pine. My photo doesn't do it justice. When I mention bald eagles to the locals, I get a "ho-hum" response. I hope I never get there since it is so exciting everytime we see one. The weather is grey with lots of sun breaks. The sky is constantly changing. Yesterday, as I was driving to the post office, the Cascade Mountains were awash in brilliant sunlight even though we were in the grey. The contrast was surrealistic but alas, when I grabbed for the camera, I realized that I had left it at home.

We have tried two Unity churches now, one here in Port Townsend and one in Kingston. Our plan is to go over to Sequim next Sunday, then make a decision about which one feeds our spirits best. Until the next time.
Charlotte

Nesting and Passing Time

Charlotte: Since leaving Sacramento and moving up to the Grass Valley area we have been a little down all week. We feel lost. It occurs to us that even though we love to travel, experience new places and meet new people, perhaps we need a nest somewhere. Moving is supposedly a very stressful experience and I think we are feeling some of that this week. Without a nest, maybe this moving every few months is taking a toll on us. As we think back, it seems like we get down every time we move. We love the feeling we get when we hit the road, headed to a new place... but the week before we leave and about the first week after we arrive at our new destination we are down in the dumps. Is there a pattern here? Duh? It is especially hard this time because we have made so many friends in Sacramento. We are leaving "family" behind this time but we know that we will return for visits.

We are excited about heading back to our beloved northwest. It feels more like home that any other place we have been. We haven't been back in almost 2 years now. Maybe before we think about any more housesits we should find a place to call home. It would be fun to get all of our worldly goods out of storage. It would be like Christmas since we haven't seen any of our "stuff" in so long. We stored everything away in 1997 and hit the road. It would be nice to have a place to go back to once in awhile..... a place where we have "community" and a sense of family. We'll be at our next housesitting assignment in Pt. Townsend, Washington next week. Perhaps being there will help us in answering some of these questions.

Larry: I've been taking a break from my farm chores by sitting on the front porch watching a kingfisher hunt for his breakfast. What a simple life, eating what you catch when you're hungry. I was watching the leaves fall from a tree - talk about being present! One or two leaves would drift down, then a breeze would pluck a dozen or more so that a flurry of leaves fell. The ground beneath the tree was solid with yellow and orange color. I was struck by the metaphor of life and passing time . Our days float by like the leaves of autumn, some days faster than others, some weeks fly by without our noticing - all joining the past and accumulating around us. In order to appreciate our time here, we must stay present and watch each day as it drifts toward the past. Too quickly, our life will be represented by the stark bareness of the leafless branches.

Golden Dream

Journal entry from 1983 ~ the gold mining years
High Sierra
Cold Water Creek


The day started out the same as most mornings. The air was brisk, even cold when I slipped out from the warmth of our down cocoon. My breath plumed in front of me as I inhaled the pungent piney air. I lit the stove to start the coffee and then stirred the coals in the fire ring. Adding a handful of chips and bark, I blew a few strong puffs and was rewarded with a slender flame that I encouraged with more wood. The fragrant smell of wood smoke filled the air. From the safety of a high limb above, a squirrel scolded me for my efforts. By the time the coffee was ready, Charlotte had joined me at the fire and we contemplated our day, warming one side at a time against the chill of the high mountain air.

After a hearty breakfast, we loaded our backpacks with our lunch and enough gasoline to run our dredge for the day. The hike down the steep trail to the river took about 15 minutes with an occasional slip or two. We had carved the trail in a series of switchbacks because of the steepness. The creek didn't look any different that day either. The towering trees formed a canopy over our heads and the clear, icy mountain stream plunged and gurgled it's way past us. We were mining for gold in the High Sierras of Northern California using a suction dredge - sort of like an underwater vacuum. The gold in this particular stretch of the river had been meager to average. The creek seemed stingy, wanting to hold onto it's treasure. Somehow though, I sensed a shift - a tingling deep in the primitive part of my brain.

Charlotte and I took turns underwater and this morning was my turn to begin the day. The water was icy cold and the first dive began before the sun hit the water so no one argued for the first shift. The water was so cold that we piped warm water from the engine down the back of our wetsuit. I began to clean the jagged bedrock with the dredge nozzle. The surface of the rock didn't prepare me for what was about to happen. I was working along a smooth fluted groove in the rock when I came to the hole. It was circular and about 3 feet across. We called them boil holes because sometime in the geological history of this stream, there had been a waterfall here which had provided the energy to create a vortex that had carved the hole out of solid rock.

The tingling became a constant vibration in my head. I slowly worked my way down through the tightly packed rocks and pebbles, my mind filled with visions of gold. About two feet down, the brilliant flash of native gold caught my eye. A perfect teardrop shaped nugget about 1 1/2 inches long materialized and I excitedly handed it up to Charlotte who was standing in the water next to me. Knowing how gold seeks the lowest level, I thought, "If this big piece is up here above the bottom, what must lie below?" Now I knew that the river was rewarding us for our perseverance. After clearing another foot or so, the hole began to slope inward, signifying that the bottom was near. As the last debris began to clear from the bottom, a golden glow began to fill my vision. There in the bottom of the hole, layers of gold nuggets gleamed with the shiny brilliance that had started wars and birthed the west. I handed the largest ones up to Charlotte. I motioned for her to cut the engine so that we could take a look in the box. Sure enough, it was lined with golden color.

Just as we were cleaning the last of the gold from the riffle box, a huge roll of thunder interrupted our excitement. A storm was right overhead. We raced up the trail barely ahead of the heavy droplets of rain. Breathlessly, we jumped into the pickup and headed for camp, exhilarated by all that the day had blessed us with.

ET, Phone Home
by Larry

Someone asked us the other day if we were tired of traveling and didn't we need a home? It got me to thinking about roots. Roots means family, community and a historic home to me. Those ingredients become problematic when you are on the road as much as we are. Charlotte and I are essentially, vagabonds. Actually, we are professional house sitters which means that we live in lots of different places for one to three months at a time. In just the last 18 months, we have lived in British Columbia, Atlanta, GA., Portland and Cottage Grove, OR., Dallas, TX., Denver, CO and most recently are living in Sacramento, CA! Talk about diversity! House and farm sitting has provided us with a way to see the country and meet lots of interesting people. If you are ever interested in looking into this as a way to thee the country or the world you can find out more at housecarers.com.

Friendships are what holds us together and provides us with "family". Richard Bach says it best, "The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each others life." As for a home where all our friends live, Bach again nails it: "Can miles truly separate us from friends? If we want to be with someone we love, aren't we already there?" In this manner, we carry our community with us.

Each new destination offers new opportunities to meet new friends, make lasting relationships, thereby expanding our family and growing our roots ever deeper into the rich tapestry of our lives.

Travels with the Bacons

Travels with the Bacons
by Charlotte
October 22, 2004

We are very excited about our new blog "The Heroes' Journey". We are thankful to our very special friend, Elizabeth, for encouraging us to do this. (who the heck knew what a blog was? ) According to one estimate, there are about 2.5 MILLION blogs on the net today.

For a number of years now we have been writing about our journey and sharing it via personal letters, email and the occasional travel newsletter. Our new blog will give us a place to share about our travels and the special people, places and lessons we learn along the way. If you are part of our "family", we welcome you to look in on us each week and find out what we are up to. If you are new to our blog, we welcome you to our "extended family".

Today we are in Sacramento, CA. We have been house sitting in Midtown for a delightful couple who are spending 3 months in Europe. Yep! this is another housecarer job! Their Craftsman style home was built in 1916 and has been tastefully modernized. We are within walking distance of shopping, restaurants and coffee shops. It is a neighborhood of quiet, tree-lined streets with a real sense of community. We still prefer the pastoral life of the country but this is very enjoyable. Next week we will begin packing for our next adventure which takes us first to Grass Valley, CA and then on to the northwest once again. This time to Port Townsend, WA.

During our stay here, we have been blessed to be part of a very special spiritual community. If you are ever in Sacramento, be sure to visit the Spiritual Life Center downtown. They are part of the Unity Church community. We have been blessed to be able to help build a Habitat for Humanity house while we are here. We are often the only ones working during the week except for the contractor in charge, Mike. He is a really nice fellow. We are working on the roof..... not too much competition for that job during the summer in Sacramento. Larry worked with his dad putting on roofs and so he thought this would be a good job for us. We get here very early in the morning and start our day sitting up on the roof watching life around us; kids headed to school, people headed to work, buses going by, barking dogs, joggers..... well, you get the idea. We work all morning and then come down around noon when the heat gets pretty intense. On the weekends when most folks show up to pitch in we have a password to qualify for working on the roof or rather a song.... they have to be able to sing or hum at least a few bars from "Up On The Roof". That is our theme song for this summer.

Right now we are participating in an annual churchwide program called Faith In Action. As part of that, each Sunday, we sing a special song together. When we arrived in Sacramento we found ourselves needing to stop for awhile, for rest and contemplation. We wanted time to think about where we had been and where we were headed, both in our lives and geographically. This song speaks of our chosen journey and we want to share the words with you.

I Am On A Journey ~ words and music by Richard Burdick

I am on a journey to my true self
Today my sacred journey starts
I am on a journey to find God's love
I am on a journey to my heart

I am on a journey to find wholeness
Today my sacred journey starts
I am on a journey through the mystery
I am on a journey to my heart

I am more
than all I can see
Digging deep I find the truth

In my soul
I find the Divine
The same sacred Spirit that's in you

I am on a journey to find heaven
Today my sacred journey starts
There is love and beauty every moment
On my sacred journey to my heart

I am on a journey to awaken
Today my sacred journey starts
Take my hand and you can travel with me
On this sacred journey to the heart

The Detour (notes from our 2003 journals)

THE DETOUR (notes from our 2003 journals)
by Larry Bacon August 22, 2003

Well, here we are headed to our second assignment with housecarers  (our new house sitting agency) in Beaverton, Oregon by way of a conference in Portland. I don't know about you but seldom does an everyday event slap me up along side of my head with a message that says, "Hey, Larry, are you paying attention? Do you get this or do you need some more glyconutrients?" Let me tell you what happened on the way to Portland, Oregon from Atlanta, GA by way of Gunnison, Colorado. Charlotte and I headed west from Atlanta having spent nearly three months with heat, humidity, cockroaches the size of mice and southern fried food. The farther west we drove, the lighter we became, both literally and figuratively. We could identify with the early pioneers - setting their sights on the Oregon Territory. Wild Indians, deserts or floods couldn't deter us from our destination! By the time we reached Colorado, I was soaring - in a frenzy to arrive on the west coast - home at last!

Early one morning, we dropped down from the continental divide on Monarch Pass and entered the pleasant community of Gunnison. It had been several days since we had checked our e-mail so we were anxious to locate the local library in order to access the internet. Over the next hour, three different individuals urged Charlotte to take a detour to Crested Butte. They said something about not missing such an opportunity since we were this close. I, on the other hand, was still eager to push on so the 30 mile detour represented way too much delay. Let us just say that against my opinion, we headed off in our new direction and I pouted my way up to Crested Butte.

If you have ever driven along the Gunnison River, you will know how hard it was for me to maintain my aloof disdain for such a journey. Each turn of the road brought new vistas of still pools, rapids and the occasional fly fisherman wading in the shallows, stalking the wary trout.

By the time we drove into the tiny, magical village of Crested Butte, my spirits had been restored. It is nestled in a valley, high up in the Rockies. We were greeted by masses of flowers growing everywhere - baskets, barrels, buckets, boxes, beds and mounds. The air was crystal clear, warm in the sun but cool in the shade. We were even entertained by a distant thunder storm. The long three blocks of multi-colored businesses reminded us of North Lake Tahoe in California back in the 60s. We walked the length of town on the lookout for a place to eat lunch. The young man who took our order for a gargantuan Mexican style wrap, urged us to continue over Kebler Pass. He assured us that we wouldn't regret our decision to do so and the road came out in Delta, CO, our destination anyway. A lady in the visitor center said that by coming to Crested Butte, we had contracted the Ute curse – we would always have to return. When we asked her how many times she had been to Crested Butte, she replied that she had just moved back for the third time. Oh sure! One more detour! But by this time, I was beginning to get the picture.

We topped out quickly at Kebler Pass where we walked over to an old pioneer cemetery. That was the beginning of one of the most awesome sights I have ever experienced. The well maintained gravel road undulated and meandered along the top of the Rocky Mountains through an endless, dense grove of Aspens. You could hardly see through the stark white trunks, the trees were so thick. Dark storm clouds contrasted with the stark blue of the sky and the pale gleam of the looming peaks. It was just like being immersed in a Bev Doolittle painting! Where were the Indian spirits or the hiding bears? Were we to become her next camouflaged subject? (Look very closely at the picture of the aspens) Reluctantly, we left the Aspen forest behind and descended to the interstate to continue our journey. Returning to our original course, I realized how much I would have missed had I not taken that detour. I was struck in a powerful way by the metaphor this represented in my life. How many "detours" have I ignored, denying myself unexplored experiences and adventures? How often have I been so focused on my path that I missed doors along the way? My lesson for the day was to proceed a little slower, watching more closely for those delights along the side of the road (and to appreciate Charlotte’s wisdom more often.)

Greetings From Yancalla, Oregon ~ September 2003

Over The Rainbow in Yancalla, Oregon
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Musings from Charlotte:
Friday, September 26, 2003
Greetings from Yoncalla, Oregon ~ or rather 9 miles east of there. We have landed in paradise. This is heaven. Thank you Divine Spirit for this haven of peace and beauty. They call this place Tuckaway Farm and we will be here for 7 wonderful weeks. This is our 3rd housesit from housecarers.This is the best yet!

Location, Location, Location
We sit atop a knoll with a view of the valley. Since we are on Scott’s Valley Road we can only assume that it is Scott’s Valley. Who was Scott and what ever became of him? The valley is grassland…golden with the color of a long dry summer… waiting for the first rains of fall. Huge oak trees along with fir provide shade for the cattle grazing in the neighboring pastures below. In the distance, forested hills rise up to the east. They look rugged from here. The furthest ridge is several miles away. The house itself is surrounded by green lawn with beds of flowers and shrubs here and there. There is a tall stand of old fir atop the ridge behind the house. We understand that is where the natural spring originates. The water for the house comes from the spring. It is cool and delicious.

The House
This house is simply wonderful. Each room is bright and open with windows looking out to spectacular views. The largest downstairs bedroom serves as an office area. There is a large dining room, Bob & Sue’s bedroom (the owners), a bath and a lovely living room with built in bookcases, period furniture and a gas fireplace. I forgot to mention that this is a grand craftsman style home built in 1924 by a lumbering family. There is impressive woodwork throughout the large two story house.

Our favorite room is the kitchen, spacious and laid out in such a way as to provide work space for several cooks. An oak bar extends out into the floor surrounded by stools for spectators. There is a very large window above the sink that looks out to the northern hills, pasture, the old red barn, a perennial flowerbed and the grape arbor. I stood at the sink last evening watching bluebirds taking their evening dip in the birdbath. There are countless bluebirds here….more than we have ever seen anywhere. It helps that there are several bluebird houses around the property.

Upstairs are 3 more lovely bedrooms with 3 bathrooms and a sitting room. Sue and Bob invited us to choose whatever room suited us best, even theirs after their departure. “Sleep around and try them all”. We have decided to call the easterly upstairs bedroom home. Mostly, because it faces the first morning light and because of the wonderful firm bed with the marshmallow covers. After sleeping in countless beds over the last 7 years, we consider ourselves bed connoisseurs.

There are colorful area rugs on the hardwood floors, period furniture and beautiful artwork and photographs. Lots of books line the walls in the office and sitting room There are many large windows that look out in every direction. We have stayed in grand places where it was hard to find a “comfortable” room to be in. Here the challenge is in deciding which room to choose.

Our Animal Friends
Our charges here include Lucy. She greets us each morning with meows at about the time we open our eyes or are we opening our eyes because she has been greeting us for awhile? She is a loving little gray tiger striped kitty. Then there is Barney….not a little kitty but just as loving. He lost some of his manliness a week ago so he is confined to the laundry room for recuperation. He is black and white with a black mask. There is a 37 year old horse named Babe , yes I said 37 years old. She talks to us over the fence when we are outside. And last but not least are Kelly ( a very large Nubian goat) and Gordy and Angie (Angorra goats). The goats are very friendly. They like to be petted and beg for fruit when we go to the orchard. We have witnessed Kelly on several occasions standing on back legs with front legs on a limb of the pear tree. She shakes the limb vigorously in an attempt to get pears to fall from the tree. The goats have a fondness for pears. Babe prefers apples.
Outside Sitting Places
Where to begin? Let’s see, there is the pond but we will get to that later. Then there is the very large covered front porch that looks to the east. It is furnished with wicker….a cushioned sofa, chairs and a rocker. There is a large railing, just the right height to rest our feet and watch the rising sun or the colors of the sunset as they paint the distant hills. I can’t wait to sit out here during a rainstorm.
There is a patio area between the house and the barn with a grape arbor. There are two old vines covered in grapes. At one end are green grapes and at the other black. Larry made fresh grape juice from the green ones yesterday. Yum. There is a table and chairs under the arbor where we have eaten a breakfast, a lunch and a dinner. There are Adirondack chairs with foot rests for watching the sunrises, sunsets and stars. Oh, my, and are there ever stars. With no lights nearby, the stars are amazing. It is hard to drag ourselves indoors from the porch steps at bedtime.

There is a two lane road at the front of the property. We counted less than 25 vehicles on our first day. No rush hour traffic here. If anyone rushes, it is one car at a time.

The Harvest
Let’s start with the pears since we harvested what was left in the trees this morning. They are very good, especially with vanilla yogurt. There are some apple trees but the apples aren’t quite ripe. We located some enormous blackberries this morning where the pond drains at the fenceline. We had berries and yogurt with breakfast. Our favorite spot is the garden area… a garden complete with an old green wooden screen door for a gate. It is small but will provide a plentiful harvest for us and anyone else we can find to share with……tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, strawberries, zucchini, eggplant, beans, basil, rosemary, tarragon, beets, chard and carrots. We gathered all of the larger tomatoes, some peppers and basil and made a scrumptious tomato sauce. We cooked chicken with it last night and even had enough to freeze some. There will be another tomato harvest next week for some homemade chili. The autumn evenings are quite cool. Just right for a big pot of chili.

Ponding ~ By Larry
Friday Morning ~ September 26, 2003
We arose long before the sun crested the tree-lined ridge to the east. We did our Tibetans and padded downstairs. After donning shoes and sweats we hike down to the 2 lane road that passes by the house. We head north in the early morning light. It is a splendid time for a walk….cool and quiet. We hike north and down a hill for a mile. By the time we get back, the sun has just peeked over the ridge and birds are busy everywhere.

With coffee, binoculars, a book we are sharing*, journals, sunglasses and hats we hike a short distance into the pasture to the south of the house. Here there is a spring fed pond complete with wooden deck that reaches out over the water. There is a metal table with umbrella and chairs along with 4 large Adirondack type chairs with cushions. We choose the larger chairs. The pond is surrounded by reeds of different kinds along with some water plants and a beautiful yellow water lily. We face the ridge to the east. With coffee cup in hand, our cares seem to melt away. It is hard to be busy even in our minds. Our minds are still and present.

Swallows and enormous blue dragonflies dart here and there. There has been a large hatch of insects and the swallows sweep down barely missing the water catching bugs. The sun is warm on our bodies as we slide back into our chairs. As we close our eyes and listen, we can hear a noisy robin in the fir tree over by the house, a distant plane, the chirp chirp of the swallows as they swoop down, the gurgling of the spring as it feeds into the pond, the buzzing of dragonfly wings as they pass by, the occasional lilting call of a red winged blackbird in the reeds, crickets in the grass. Between nature's serenade there is silence….blessed silence. The delicious warmth of the sun draws us into a dreamy state. We close our eyes and drift off.