May 30, 2010

Oh my golly. I think I just felt the first conscious growing pain! Yesterday I came close to a breakdown of spirit: I drove for 13 hours, across the hot, windy, endless prairies of South Dakota into Minnesota, looking for a place to camp. By 9pm, I was driving around the neighborhoods of Marshall, Mn., trying to find a place that would grant me squatter’s rights for the night. (I should have been proactive in my search for campgrounds, given the 3-day holiday!) When I finally pulled over at 9:34, I was ready for a shower, a drink, and a mommy, none of which was available. My discouragement matched my fatigue. Even Jubilee looked like a gargoyle. I had no water, no electricity, no propane gas. In short, I was DRY-CAMPING to the max. I actually experienced my first “I wanna go HOME!” moment. But the conscious part of me decided against giving in to trials of the day. I reminded myself that fatigue paints its own pallor, and that a little rest would probably adjust my perspective. So I prayed for a coma. I also bathed in an ice cream bucket with my last half-gallon of water.

Well-h-h-h-h-elllllll… I fell into my bed, like a baby relaxing into my mother’s body, which yielded to fit my exact contour. It was hot, but the evening birds were singing, and a slight breeze was whispering great hope for tomorrow. I slept for 7 solid hours, with my little gargoyle next to me, inert and folded into my body.

Sure enough, rest renewed my spirits and altered my perspective. Today was an easy drive to what could only be described as HEAVEN. I found (and lucked into) Upper Sioux Agency State Park. It is thousands of acres of green, wonderfully green, grassy, sloping land, running along the Yellow Medicine River and the Minnesota River, with stands of hardwood and pockets of wild flowers.  I am distinctly aware that in terms of being a vagabond, it DOES NOT GET BETTER THAN THIS! (But I’ll certainly let you know if it does!)

Jubilee and I hiked about 6 miles in and out of hardwood forests, over hills and into flower-bejeweled  dales, then stopped to play several times in the river.  Powdery pink wild rose petals were rising with the breeze like fairies’ thought clouds. I TOLD ‘YA! It doesn’t get better than this!