I ate a half, only time and writing will tell if it is over the line.
This morning I was awakened by not feeling well. What’s happening? Something coming on, I have not connected the symptoms with what makes its home in my body. Ate pancakes. Cleaned up. Planning on showing for the 11AM ride to say goodbye. I parked in the parking lot. Walked into shop, nothing happening. No ride or riders. I was shooed out of the shop. I just left. Goodbye Bike and Bean.
Bought propane from Chevron Tony on the way out to Beaverhead.
Yesterday I planned on being in west Sedona for a trail work day if there was one; VVCC web site showed previous days only. Checked at the Bean: no FS flyer equals no work day. I had the day off.
Sat blood test displayed a way high number which means slower clotting at a wound. I could have ridden and been safe. I decided to forego a ride.
I drove out Jacks Canyon to hike the front side of Horse Mesa climbing to the top. I hiked the trail I have ridden till I caught the climbers way trail which lead to another traversing trail, taking that one a ways then turned on the serious climbers trail. Steep and loose some places with a skiff of unconsolidated earth on a rock: count on a slide. I exposed myself to more bleeding conditions than if I had ridden. Up top: strand of downed barb wire fence, occasional flowering thistles. I walked across the mesa to the southern edge. Cattle grazed on the mesa, I have not found their up path. Down below runs Dry Beaver that i have ridden down a trail, Route called Hot Loop. Earlier this spring on my only time riding this route the creek was flowing class 3 white water. Carves down from Mogollon Rim Flagstaff level.
Then there is what’s behind the camera:
One hour to get up, slightly more going down.
I chose hiking over riding hoping that walking would use muscles differently which might aid in breaking up the leg clots. Leg hurt entire time, no relief. I wore the sock which lessened ankle swelling. Today there is less pain.
Last turkey dinner at Mileys. Stopped for a beer at PJs for social, Lingered over a beer passing time. Decided to leave before dark.
Drove out to Beaverhead for the better internet site, favored spot was occupied by car campers, the trailer was gone. Perhaps tonight I might get it. And I did. I drove in to the flatter spot, I put the bubble level on the galley which I take to be level, I put 1 block under right wheels, drove up on them, checked the bubble: dead level. Dropped anchor. I set up my chair outside in teh sun and sat to read. I was becoming overcome by a non desert odor. I looked around and saw where the trailer people had drained their gray water. Eck. I returned to other site slightly out of down wind.
So, tomorrow morning I am casting off from Red Rock ranger District in the Coconino NF driving up I17 to Flag hanging there until after wash on Thurs then driving to the Zunis.
One thing about living on the road full time is my visits are transitory, the connection I make lack permanence. Us road people understand this. Our interaction is already based on living on the road, we get it. We share together time then we go our separate ways, maybe meet in the future. Although my experience has been of just a few meetups. The road offers me finding others to share time with. Another thing is road livers prolly have 24/7 their time to do whatever and trying to connect with people that are working isn’t always good. I really have few life sharing buddies. I continue this lifestyle until either my body gives out or my brain won’t send those signals to the body.
Spell check caught my misspellings. Good Bye Ruby Tuesday just finished on XM radio classic vinyl station. Three and one half hours in, I believe i can safely use sharp instruments and contain fire.
This morning I stopped to buy coffee beans at a local roaster. My nose picked up the smell of honeysuckle blossoms. Sure enough a sizeable bush clump covered something. What a wonderful smell in small doses. One spring I was riding the Syllamo trails in Arkansas, where I parked honeysuckle abounded scenting the air on overdose. Too much of a good thing.