The Blue Ridge Mountains, western Virginia.
We went to gawk at the fall foliage along with everybody else. It was worth it, tho. Lovely day.
mountains
Glacier Park, Montanta
My mother recalls our train trip to Glacier Park:
We recently rode the train—the Empire Builder—from Minneapolis to Glacier Park in Montana for a week with our daughter and grandson—in coach, no less! Now, many people our age would take a sleeper or roomette, but I guess we just wanted to prove we could still “rough it” and save money! We weren’t the only ones of our age group, many passengers in coach were also “older”.
We got on the train about l0:30 pm, were given seats and pillows, instructions about bathrooms (downstairs!), dining car (2 cars ahead), lounge and snack bar (l car back), dining hours, and anything else pertinent to our next 24 hours aboard. All these instructions were given by a charming car attendant—a woman in her late 40’s probably, very professional and efficient, all the while being very friendly and helpful.
The train rolled quietly out of Minneapolis at 11:30 pm, almost on schedule, full of sleepy people.
The seats were roomy—much more so than on an airplane–, but it still was a challenge to find the right angle for head, body and feet. We took a small travel blanket and pillow, and I had an extra sweater with my winter jacket, Bill his warm jacket, so we managed to keep warm in the air-conditioning. One woman sitting near us a stuffed shoulder-pillow and an old fashioned tied-comforter, yet!—she looked totally cozy. The man across the aisle was over 6 feet tall and seemed to exactly fit into his seat with comfort for he softly snored the whole night through. During the night we made several trips down the stairs to the bathrooms hoping to alleviate blood clots and keep our muscles mobile, more or less. With the pleasant rumbling of the wheels on the tracks and the often blowing of the whistle, we soon dropped off for a fair night’s sleep.
The sights began with an early dawn over North Dakota—the never-ending sky of a million hues of pink, and the flat, treeless land with wheat, barley, mustard and flax fields intermixed with range country and rolling hills as we entered Montana. The dining car announced that it was open for breakfast, so we made our way there, enjoying both a good hot breakfast and the passing countryside.
The whole train was smoke-free, so at some stops it was announced that time would be long enough for stretching one’s legs and taking a smoke, if desired. We stopped at only a few places in Montana—Havre, Shelby, Cutback—and then we were seeing the wall of mountains tipped with snow. By this time it was evening and the train was a couple of hours late getting into East Glacier, but it still was daylight and the view of the beautiful, nearly l00 year old, Glacier Park Inn, a short walk from the station, with the background of these gorgeous mountains just at dusk was miraculous.
Traveling by train again after many years was a great experience for all of us and a great way to see the countryside and we survived!
Evening in the Andes
Moving slowly
Down the dirt path,
Limping,
Leaning on a cane.
A simple wooden cane.
Flattened weathered feet,
Gnarled hands holding on.
Moving slowly,
A long black ragged skirt
Shadowing the past,
Shading the future.
Tanned, weathered skin.
Wrinkled smiling eyes
Of days gone by.
Shiny black hair in a bun
Hidden by a hat,
A black felt hat.
Wise, knowing woman
Passing through a lifetime.
A sore back,
A setting sun.
Reaching home
Slowly.
Darkness all around.
An empty room.
Sinking onto the mat
On the dirt floor.
Sinking
Into another world…
The cold mountain air
Drifts in through the
Open window.
There is no moon tonight.
Photo: Andes Mountains Marturius
The Dream
There are sometimes when you sink slowly into a soft chair and sigh and stare. Stare away into space, drifting slowly in the unknown, into the wall in front of you. But you don’t see the wall. Your eyes are blind while your mind imagines things far away. Pictures, images, flowing on and on solidifying as they go forming stories…
It’s a pretty nice day. You start laughing. People all around you, people you like. Playing cards or trying to. Smoking cigarettes. More people. You want to move. Dark clouds slowly appear and surround you emptying themselves noisily, flashing out at you in a split second. The lightening touches a telephone pole, people start to panic, but it isn’t real. The pictures of the mind not letting you see. Seemingly worthless pieces of cloth weigh you down as you manipulate your body outside the door. Wandering picture by picture up the pavement into the lush green, colorful mountains where you see for miles and the trees make patterns in the distance. Rolling in the grass and laughing. Water seeping through onto every part of your body. You don’t even notice. You fall into a ditch and can’t stop laughing. Roses. Wet, rainbow roses watching you. They are magnetic, you kill them and take them home watching them all the way, skipping, running, trudging. The sun is coming out.
The room is a mess. trunks on beds, toilet paper everywhere, shoes on the ceiling. People walking around inside not seeming to notice. running up the road there is nothing you can do. You run around making noise and lose yourself. You sit on the steps watching the rain and the trees in the distance. Beings cleaning up the room, painting themselves, putting on their best clothes. Prom night and you think you should throw a dress on. Which dress? Orange brown butterfly dress.
Floating through the dining room wishing you were someplace else. The bathroom lights are bright, somebody hands you something, you take it. The water tastes good. You wonder what it is but don’t really care. Everybody is dancing and dancing and things start getting wild and so do you. You are the last to get home, stumbling in. They are talking about the lizards. They’ve been watching them all night playing in the rafters. Friendly little things. It reminds you of the airport in Milan after a long trip that wasn’t quite over.
Things slowly come into focus, the wall is there in front of you and everything is like it was before or seems to be as far as you can remember but you don’t really think about it. You just pull yourself up and move along.
Rainbow
The Rainbow Family Gathering takes place the first week in July at one of the National Forests in the USA. It is a giant peace gathering where people come from all walks of life to camp in the woods and meditate, dance, pray, coexist, and be one with nature. I attended one of these gatherings at the Nantahala National Forest, North Carolina in 1987.
I arrived in Knoxville, Tennessee, at about 11 pm after having spent two hours in the Memphis airport. I was meeting a friend coming in from a different part of the country and she showed up about midnight. I was tired. My friend Sheila’s bag did not show up. It was still in Chicago. It was 1:30 or 2:00 am before I finally got to bed. After returning to the airport to pick up the lost luggage, and last minute organizing, we finally got on the road about 2:30 the next day.
The drive was a feast for the eyes. We climbed up mountains around turns exposing beautiful views. Every thing was lush and green. At about 4 pm we found the turn-off for the gathering and cars parked by the side of the road for miles. And lots of policemen. Sheila dropped me and our gear at the bridge to the camp and went off to park the car. Policemen kept their eyes on everybody.
Once I hit the bridge a man with a gold star on his forehead and a big grin helped me to get the packs to the other side of the bridge and told me there was a shuttle up around the corner. He said “Welcome Home, sister!” and gave me a big hug. I sat down on the bridge and waited. It took Sheila about 45 minutes to return. We waited a while longer and then a big school bus showed up. We piled luggage and people onto it like a Latin American mountain bus. All jammed in. As we went up the mountain every so often the bus driver would yell, “lean left!”, and we would all lean. I was sitting next to a woman who had just driven straight through from Madison, Wisconsin with her 5 year old boy. She had a t-shirt on that said ‘The Women of Isis’.
We went pretty far up this mountain on the bus. Finally we stopped and unloaded and walked about three-quarter mile up the road to where the trail starts. For about the last quarter mile there were “cars” parked all along one side of the road with people living there. This was call the Bus Village. To the right of the road was a large meadow and to the left a very muddy steep trail. Onward and upward with a backpack, a tent, and a sleeping bag on my back and only my tennis shoes on my feet. Tents were on both sides of the trail in the woods all the way up.
After a while we came upon the main Meadow where the Council was discussing whether kitchens should be allowed to serve meat. We rested for a bit and continued up the slimy muddy trail. We had to cross two small streams and maneuver a lot of muck. After a while we came to another smaller meadow. I thought I was doing to die. I was so hot and thirsty. We stopped and drank a bunch of water – all we had. Sheila decided to go do some scouting while I stayed with the gear. I just sat in the meadow and people watched. At the top of the meadow was the Jamba Kitchen serving the evil meat. Over to one side was an area marked off by rocks to be a communal gathering fire area. Over to the other edge was a large encampment with people’s clothes hanging on a line and pretty soon I noticed a man sitting on the ground busying himself with domestic matters and right next to him was a wheel chair. People had carried this man up the mountain in his wheelchair. I watched him and his woman round up four “volunteers” to carry him down the mountain. Amazing.
There were all kinds of people in various stages of undress. One thing I noticed was there were a lot of topless women but very few who were totally nude while there were a lot of nude men. After a while Sheila came back and said we should go check out another trail. Off we went further up the mountain. Later when we checked the camp map we discovered that we weren’t even on it. We had gone so far. But, we found a nice place by a stream and pitched our tent. By the time we were all set up it was 8 pm. A long day.
Next morning we got up and made hot chocolate and our neighbors came over to make tea with our hot water. After breakfast we slid down through the mud and slime to the main Meadow where the Council was again meeting. On the way there we passed through the Trading Center where people had wares displayed for trade. Stones, jewelry, scarfs, tie die, food, cigarettes.
We sat down to listen to the Council. A man was standing and told the story of how this particular gathering came to be. The State tried to get an injunction to keep us away and ordered a court appearance. Meanwhile the Rainbow Family filed with the Federal court to have it go there instead. The State court took one look at them and told them they should be in Federal court. The State and the Rainbow Family were told to get together and work things out because although the Federal judge upheld the laws about mass gatherings, he also relayed that they were really un-enforecble. So the State came up with 23 rules we had to agree to. They were almost all thing the Rainbow Family do anyway. Be careful of the water, the trees, the land, fire, etc. One rule said they had to put a sign up a the bottom of the mountain stating: “Caution! A permit is required for more than 5,000 people to gather and no permit has been obtained” or something like that. The Council member said they were erecting a big colorful beautiful sign and right next to it they would put up the First Amendment. There was much discussion on the whole thing.
We wandered around a little, listened to some music – guitars, even a piano, singing, all real mellow. Back at our tent, I could hear the stream flowing, trees rustling and every so often people would wander by. The drums were always beating in the distance and every once in a while the conch would sound. I could hear the rain approaching through the forest. It rained off and on most of the time.
The next day a sanitation inspector and several men from the forestry service came to inspect the campsite. They checked kitchens, water supplies, latrines, etc. They seemed like friendly people.
On July 4 there was a big celebration. From dawn until noon there was a silent vigil for peace throughout the camp. We made it down to the main Meadow about 1 pm when the chanting was just ending and the raising of the Rainbow American Flag took place. Then the music started and everybody danced and danced.
Peace