LOST COAST

So a new transition has been made and there is so much to catch up on! I chose to leave Orleans farm and follow my heart, which initially went with Russ down the mountain to Eureka – specifically Old Town’s Coffee & Chocolate, with a side of Wi-Fi. We spent a week cooking, eating, sleeping and a few other special events sprinkled in (Octet gold metal swimmers are so dreamy!).

I had a chance to interview for a job in Arcata. I chose to continue WWOOFing instead. It took some encouragement. Since becoming ill out in the boonies, I was weary of doing it all over again. But in the end, I had to admit: a job in town was not in my heart.

So! On the weekend I go couch surfing and find one with Wi-Fi installed! It helps me nail down a gig in Mendocino County, outside a town called Willits (where we Chillits with the Illwitz!). With a proper destination, I give myself full permission to relax! Russ and I make preparations to get Lost (on the) Coast! We are going to backpack for three days!

On Wednesday morning we walk out onto black sand beaches. Fog envelops us. It rolls in and out of each point obscuring and then revealing pieces of shoreline as we hike along. In some areas the seaside is steep and stony; others are smooth sand. Occasionally large rocks emerge, flame-like, from the surf. Kelp beds are scattered throughout. Seaweed swirls as the ocean currents pull it, rhythmically swaying to the cyclical movement of life. I give considerable time to discerning the difference between kelp and sea creatures. Like the waves, I flip-flop over and again, “It’s a seal! …No, kelp… Hold on…” Mostly I’m just fooling myself. What a game! What fun!

As we stride along, an actual seal emerges in the surf. Its gray speckled head appears right along side us, on a breaking wave as it swells! The seal hovers there, greeting us with big, black, perfectly round eyes! As the wave crashes upon itself, the seal drops down the backside and dissappears. He is gone as quickly as he came. Hypnotized by the encounter, I stand watching the surf for several minutes, but there is nothing. How fabulously mystical – ARF!

As we meander closer to the water, the surf chases us up the beach. On one occasion – only once! – the sea floods my shoes. We learn to move quick, sideways, like a crab! By the return trip I am learning to look at the tide line ahead.

After hours of walking on this coastal terrain, I ponder which size stone is best suited to hefting all the weight of my pack. I conclude that fist-sized rocks are easiest on the ankles and provide the best sense of actual ground (Earth sign.) Hard packed sand comes in at a close second, but only if it is really chock-a-block! Russ prefers hopping across giant rocks (Air sign!)

We arrive on Miller Flat about two hours before dusk and begin following a maze of animal trails through its golden grasses. The hard packed earth is a welcome relief from beach walking and the expanse is stunning! There are many opportunities to camp, some more established than others. We choose the one with a hammock! Dropping our packs here, we continue north to the creek for water. As we approach, I spy a black dot upstream that quickly skirts off into the brush (bear). At the water’s edge, there is a small snake anchoring himself in the rocks. A heron is fishing in a deep pool further inland. That will be our spot to filter water. We all must come.

On the way back to camp, we collect firewood. Just outside the site, a man emerges over the rocky ledge leading from the beach. I say hello. He nods and walks on. He isn’t wearing any gear: must’ve made camp around here somewhere. It is too moist to burn wood, so we lie in the hammock until we are foggy and soggy enough to turn in to the tent.

In the middle of the night, I hear Russ blowing his nose really obnoxiously, over and over again. Finally I turn over, only to find him asleep – then I hear the gnarly goblin beyond. Rabid raccoon? Bear? No. Whatever it is moves quickly towards us, around our heads and right past the door. As I sit there, upright, with only a thin veil of fabric between us, my imagination works overtime trying to conjure up an image of what has come a knocking. Russ hardly rolls over! I’m fully awake wondering what in God’s name is making that wretched noise! If it weren’t for the rain fly, I would have full visibility! But, the noise has past and we seem to have survived (for the moment), so I lie back down.

We wake and savor the morning (I’m alive! I survived!). I speculate that last night’s sound came from that man we passed at dusk! He must have been a shape shifter! An angry badger? Choking on plastic? Opossum? I think it is Russ who finally mentions that it might have been a wild pig. “They have those here?” I ask. What a Boar! I generally ignore this suggestion, preferring the magical mystery of all the other imaginary characters that could have come cavorting!

This day, Thursday, is our time to relax. We sit on the beach just south of where the creek meets the sea and watch events unfolding. Waves roll down the beach. It is a clear day, and windy too. There is another snake in the rocks between soil and sand. Three boats hang out north of us. We wonder why, until we spy the surf, and in it: SURF-ers. Out of the blue (sky) a plane lands on the North flat! Who could this be? But of course, it’s a Surfer Pilot! Bra flew in to get LOST for the day! A silhouette of dude and board disembark toward the beach.

I am mesmerized by the seas rhythmic cycles. Waves break in a domino effect down the shoreline and explode onto the rocks! It creates a stunning crash and as the water falls back, stones tear down into the sea. They sound like thunder rumbling from deep inside the earth, yet the sensation you feel is out of this world! The returning wave bows beneath the next wall of water, thrashing together and around one another like the thrilling sign of sixty-nine.

For food our main course is gorpe with a side of gorpe (the variety pack). But dinner is special: almond/soy nut butter with celery and curr-ANTS! As night falls, our fire starts under Mother Tree. Several sticks break near the southern perimeter of our clearing. Soon, a coy little raccoon emerges from the brush to introduce himself! He walks the edge of camp and jumps up into a low hanging tree on the north border. He is trying to be sneaky about visiting our tent. We send him off a couple times before heading to the beach for a view of the night sky.

The beach is so lovely tonight, that Russ and I decide to stay and beach-bag it in the open air! As is customary, a heavy fog rolls in during the predawn hours, surrounding us and lingering on until morning. Ambient light grows slowly in the misty morning. We wake quietly, and a bit groggy. There is sand in my hair. As I begin to stir, stretching my arms and rolling over – WHOA! Elephant seals are all around (Bigger than a breadbox and they bite!) The monstrous sea beasts dominate the landscape! Now I’m wishing for the ignorant bliss of being inside my tent! The consolation prize is that humans are faster on land. We move out promptly!

It is just as well this morning, because we must make our mark three miles downshore in time to beat high tide. Otherwise, we’ll be swimming home! There are several parts of the coast that become impassable when the water rises. Russ and I pack our gear, filter water & start back down the shore. It is familiar territory and yet things have changed. For one, the sky is clear! I am also surprised to find MONSTER Bear tracks (yes, that is a rare species only found on the Lost Coast)! They are as wide as both my fists combined! I meander up the beach with these tracks, watching as they disappear into the surf on occasion. Bubba bear dropped down from the forest early this morning for a real coastal breeze and nice walk on the beach! He must have come via a creek, because the whole coastline is cliff! Imagine that: a beach bear!

We stop for some breakfast (gorpe and gorpe!) and find that we are way ahead of time to beat the tides. This allows for a savorier pace. Also, I decide to have a dip. When we come across a nice “beachy” spot, I strip down and jump in – to the ocean! What a sensation: cool and cleansing, wild and refreshing! It’s like waking up in your beach-bag surrounded by elephant seals!

Russ and I finish up the hike, hop in our fine automobile and head to town for a warm meal (Bacon and Brie on Croissant, and Russ had a fabulous Curry flavored salad dressing – like WHOA!). From there we go south, to who knows what a waits! High (wave) adventure!

JOY BEAR

After toiling in the fields on any given day, the interns of the farm re-coop at our three-sided kitchen cabin on the hill. On this evening Leonna is cooking dinner while Russell and I are sitting around. He is a hefty gentleman who joins us, with curly grey hair & patchwork shorts, introduced as Lauren. We offer our new visitor a bite to eat, but he declines, instead preferring to pick his dinner in the orchard. As he goes off to gather food, Leonna informs us that Lauren is better known as Joy Bear (of the Rainbow Family). I laugh to myself: so far, Joy Bear’s scavenging is quite in character.

When Joy Bear returns, conversation quickly leads to the evening’s television programming: our ladies, 30 hens & Cluck Cluck the rooster. The box (coop) garnishes a lot of our attention (when we aren’t starring down the soil). Since it is nearing dark, Leonna suggests we start the nightly ritual of gathering all the ladies up and putting them to bed (in the coop). Joy Bear laughs heartily and insists that the hens will put themselves to bed before dark. He suggests we have an experiment to see if the ladies take care of themselves tonight. “The very worst that could happen is that we are chasing chickens around in the dark with our headlamps on,”Russ notes. I am optimistic (surprise). But Leonna is having none of it. She commences on our normal protocol as if there were no debate. Russ and I help in rounding them up (I think it is kind-of fun anyhow!)

Joy Bear follows us down the hill, already chuckling to himself about the show he is about to be treated to. No shortage of delight, Joy Bear stands by the pen, bracing himself on a post & booming the whole time! He bellows a great many jolly laughs at the crazy chicken chasing interns! I am impressed with his immense laughter. Whoa! Ha! Ha! Ha! While working the fields the next day, Joy Bear is a popular topic of conversation. Some scoff that he laughed right at us! How rude! How obnoxious! It is appropriate that we are so miffed, but I suspect a smile creeping across my face. I secretly relish Joy Bear’s irresistible jubilation. In the chicken coop, I had been laughing alongside him – on the inside, of course. And the very next night, after J. Bear departed, the ladies did indeed tuck themselves in.

*BEAR ATE MY SOAP!* STAY POSTED!!

MODERN MYTH & ANIMAL ALLIES

By speaking of the forces that dwell within us we bring them to life.
Caroline Casey, Making the Gods Work for You

So I’m down on the river bar in the afternoon taking a break from the farmer’s fields. I sit back on the sand looking over the river, relax and start to doze. I’m asleep for a bit, somewhere between dream state and only mildly awake, when, out of the blue, I feel this big wet sensation on my face: I’m being LICKED! I reflexively push away with my hand, sitting up & turning to see that I have rejected the advances of a cougar cub! The little one instinctively nips my hand in response to my abrupt rebuttal! I scramble up the hill, retrieve others and upon our return, we are graced with the sight of momma mountain lion leading her babe up the hill across the river. Thank goodness we didn’t have to meet her! I am full of gratitude for the mystical gift that youthful creature bestowed! For such an elusive entity, reaching out and touching a person like that must be a rare treat!

When I first came to the farm, Catherine and Russell took me down to the Salmon River for a dip. We all settled into the river bar, I took a quick skinny & was napping with my shade hat pulled down over the face (to protect from Cougar-Face) in an attempt to catch the last rays of warmth before the sun fell over the mountain ridge. All was quiet, until Catherine suddenly blared out, “BEAR.” I popped my hat up and was about to turn & look over my shoulder but there he was – black bear – sitting on the ridge right across the river from us. His nose was in the air. He stayed, sitting there by an evergreen for several minutes, sharing our company. I was charmed. What a magical greeting! Well, I thank you for the welcome! Before long black bear moseyed on, climbing the hill in his slow paced way. It was my first direct encounter with these animals, but I was left with the sense that their presence is deep – drenched – in peace.

Shady Brady (farm intern) was lucky in that he had the opportunity to co-habitate with our local black bear: his tent is pitched down by the river & nestled near a berry patch. Brady would start suddenly in the early morning hours, startled by something, which was then startled by him, taking a few steps with a gruff grunt. It was these steps which again startled Brady, but it seems that everyone stayed startled enough to keep moving on their own way! More often than not, the black bear presence is felt rather than encountered. It’s a brisk brush with a powerful but peaceful steward of this land.

One afternoon Shady enters our outdoor kitchen announcing bluntly, “Bear ate my soap.” I had to laugh! Ha! Ha! Ha! Bear ate my soap? Ha! “Tell me, dear Shady, just how did that happen?” I inquire jokingly. “Yeah, yeah,” he replies, “Everyone’s a skeptic, but seriously!”

It’s really quite simple. Draw your own conclusions. You are on the river bar. There are bear tracks on the beach approaching a cairn, which once marked the location of a bar of soap. And there are bear tracks down the beach, departing the scene. And yet, for some, this is not enough.

I ribbed Mr. Brady, “How do you know he ate it? That nice black bear may have just balanced it on his head & then hopped right into the river to lather up! I bet he\’s full of lavender scent right now and got a nice shiny coat to boot!” But Brady stuck with his story, “Just down the beach in the berry patch there was a little spittle on the ground. Bear spit-up.” Guess that bubbly block didn’t go down so well… But I wouldn’t speak too soon, because later that week I caught sight of black bear swimming over to our river bar. Back for more black bear? Since the “Bear ate my soap” incident, I suppose my imagination has run wild, at least, in dream states… Am I dreaming? I invited black bear into my sanctuary – literally welcoming him into my tent! My companion in the tent was skeptical that this was a good idea. Being wary of a big black bear in such close quarters is understandable – appropriate, even. But I was unyielding: I’m tryin’ a hang out with da bear! I’m down. I’m down! I encourage black bear again & again – come! Welcome! I unzip the tent for him. And he immediately blesses me with a wonderful greeting-hug-romp. We wrestled about playfully feeling each other out! Then, at the appropriate time, he exited and took his bear-pace over the hill and on his way. See? All is well.

CEREMONY: Happy Camp

Matake Oyasin is a Lakota expression that means, “For all my Relations.” This includes the sun, moon & stars – all things! I am reading a book by Caroline Casey where she expresses this idea that, “we want to become completely involved in the responsibility of shaping reality for the greater good of all our relations.” This includes all that we do: in public and in private! She quotes an old Sufi story to remind us that “…if it weren’t for the hidden work of those who pray, imagine, dream & act compassionately when the opportunity presents itself, things would be much worse [than they are].” It is important to remember that we are active participants in community.

Ceremony plays an important role in unifying a community. Ceremony, as defined by Casey, is a group ritual demonstrating the will of the people. It is a form of theater that helps us visualize and experience what we want to make reality; it is a token rite grounding our intention in a physical act. A theatrical element is part of the ritual that helps our experience become reality. And so it is.

Without knowing it, I found myself in ceremony at the Un-Dam the Klamath Music & Arts Festival. This took place on my first weekend on the farm, up in the mountains at a town called Happy Camp! I was with new peers (we call ourselves interns). Zack (better known as Shady Brady), the physics teacher from Illinois split an Indian taco with me. Russell immediately jumped in to help paint salmon on a huge wood panel down the hill.

At first the audience was pretty sparse. There was, of course, one woman who sat on the lawn all day: an avid audience member. She was a mystic type who didn’t care what anyone thought and contentedly danced her own dance. She was vocal too and responded to the performances candidly, for all of us really. We became acquainted as fellow audience members witnessing the afternoon together; we were in fellowship.

The playground had an excellent springy whale, which flung me willy-nilly for quite some time… until someone pulled me onto the dance floor. We jived around, enjoying the music and ourselves. The mystic lady moved about all wrangly, doing her thing beside me. Then, leaning in to address my partner, she demanded, “Take your shoes off! Feel the EARTH under your feet!” while stomping her foot several times! She repeated this command, always with the stomping! The girl refused, insisting, “I do what I want! You can’t tell me what to do!” My shoes were off! I just laughed! Mystic lady turned to me and said, “You don’t need that! Find someone who will take their shoes off and feel the EARTH under their feet! You have got to feel the EARTH under your feet!”

Another attraction was chopper bikes! They had one really super small wheel attached to extremely long forks, making it most difficult to mount and ride, especially on the grassy terrain. I watched people ride them down the hill and nabbed the first one that became available when one of the kids lost interest. After several attempts on the back lawn I got the thing rolling and took off around the grounds, becoming a participant in the current of energy!

The goal that brought everyone together on that weekend was re-allocating resources to benefit all by letting the river flow freely. This would especially benefit the salmon, whose ecosystem was disrupted by dams. There was a strong Karuk Indian presence at the gathering because the Klamath River is the lifeblood of their native land. The native people bring an important perspective focused on creating a sustainable balance. Their influence was evident in the arts, traditional music and tacos.

After several musical acts, a Karuk man stood up on stage and spoke from his heart about the matters facing us all, but specifically the local community and their fight to bring down the Iron Gate Dam. He asserted that our will, be reality! His genuine enthusiasm was a crucial part of the transformative magic. He invited us to take part – every man – for it is all our land! He spoke for our posterity! It was certainly a moving speech and I was touched to see someone breaching cultural boundaries for a common purpose. All one. Come together. I felt a shift in the energy after he spoke and as the night rolled in: feelings of comfort and unity.

The music continued with a woman playing songs about rivers. The audience increased, as did their energy level! More relaxed and playful in my fig leaf skirt, I went over and sat beside Russ. He made me nervous; I had a lot of affection for him even then. I sensed that we had a similar understanding of what the day’s events meant on an energetic level, whereas others didn’t notice these subtleties. This is part of the intuitive connection that seems like it was already well formed when we met. Mystic lady was around again. We were dancing around and she turned to Russ, “Take off your shoes! Feel the EARTH under your feet!” Simple: he complied. She was elated. She turned and told me, “This one is a keeper!”

Finally, we were presented with the most striking shared visualization of the event. A symbolic school of salmon swam up in front of the stage. These were children in costume, dancing around with fish on their heads. There was one huge mother fish that was made up of about twelve kids. It was similar in style to a parade with Chinese dragons. The whole dance was narrated by a local gentleman playing the guitar on stage. His song told a story of the salmon wanting to be set free! The presentation grabbed everyone’s attention and the energy skyrocketed! The school of fish gathered their momentum swimming up and down the lawn, until they finally rammed a big PVC-framed wall of fabric that read “Iron Gate Dam!” They pushed against it repeatedly until the whole thing came crashing down! Everyone cheered them on the whole way! The audience served an important purpose by reflecting enthusiasm. We were important participants in this ceremonial dance! Woo-hoo!

Taylor Bear & the Fox Hole

I slept soundly last night and was bobbing about at work (Crew Member @ Trader Joe’s) when I’m bombarded with messages from my brother, “I think Taylor’s back is hurt. Im worried” and then “Please take him on ur lunch break hes in a lot of pain. If hes that bad off have him put to sleep right away” and finally, “If u cant find taylor hes under mom and dads bed”. I immediately linked it to the night before when I playfully tossed him onto the bed and he landed stiff, like an old cat, eleven. I felt bad. I found Taylor certainly sick, still, he calmly perched on my lap in the car, peering out the window, taking the turns. Dr. Carroll insisted I be more gentle, “He’s no tomboy anymore,” she chided, “Call me tomorrow.”

We took Taylor off the farm in ’96. He was a quirky little kitten, having been scared senseless by an engine’s roaring start – while he was curled up next to it! We soon found the cat possessed with unending love… a burning blinding passion, with head rubs, drool, and flesh kneading with his razor claws. He’s a true hunter, occasionally bringing in baby rabbits (Bunnykins), but more characterized by his idiosyncratic nature, exemplified in his immediate instinct to swat the moving Ouroboros, a Ball Python, whereas Molly Bing (AKA Triple Fuzz) is still walking on eggshells a half hour after spotting the snakey constrictor.

Little did I know that around 4am, Taylor had had an encounter with fox in the back yard. He did have a cut on his nose. Dad heard the fox shriek (like a woman) followed by a deathly scream recognized as Taylors. He thought the old boy was a goner.

At dinner Mom asks, “What about Molly?” in reference to the threat of a fox. We don’t have to worry about Molly – she’s a “city cat” dad calls her. She never leaves the pavement and pees in the house flowerbeds! She’s a big snotty white puff ball. She’s good at sleeping. And remaining aloof. Towards the end of the night Taylor emerges from under some piece of furniture and finds me downstairs catching the Bret Micheal’s Rock of Love Season Finale on repeat. VH1: what’ll they come up with next? Anyway, Taylor comes up head-butting my arm, not realizing there’s a snake attached to it! Boy he gave Orie (as mom is calling him) quite a scare! I put the serpent upstairs and let Taylor go on humming in my lap – stiff – but happy. He went outside for a little while, but tonight bro and I insist he’s accounted for. Tomorrow he can wait on the Groundhog who sleeps beneath the shed… or creep behind the young buck crossing our herb patch on the way to the neighbor’s field at dusk. Best he heal for now.

Taylor is still acting sick. I take him to the vet, where she tugs off a furry scab and squeezes out the infection, which has given him a fever. She takes him back to shave and clean up the bite wounds. Upon return, the vet is shocked to have extracted several cups worth of the infection, but warmly remarks that Taylor is such a good little sweetheart. That he is – I missed the little old man for just the few moments she took to clean him up! Now he is getting antibiotics and proper drainage, although seeing the wound constantly is jarring for all of us – including Taylor! At least he ain’t shy about cleaning it himself! Humming softly now.

COMMENTS:
You guys should get yourselves a foxhound!

Posted by Flex on Dec 3, 2007 8:26 PM ~

AWWW TAYLOR BEAR!!! im coming to see him!!!

and you too DUHHHHH. LOVE YA GIRLIE!!!

Posted by entity with energy on Apr 4, 2008 9:56 PM

Category: animal stuff