Why Be A Donkey When You Could Be A Burro

That’s Archie, doing what Archie does.

He has his mother’s feral heart.

There’s not a cage big enough to hold it captive.

With so much devastation spreading across the globe, it’s difficult to make sense of things.

It feels too big. Too much.

Did you know a “donkey” is domesticated and a “burro” is feral?

Jase and I happen to be camping among burros.

Instead of waking to the sound of roosters we awake to the braying of the burro. (And inconsiderate campers……..Who the fuck listens to music at 5 am in the wilderness?)

If you need some laughter in your day, enjoy my first encounter with a burro.

Remember to stay feral my friends. Domestication is for asses.

Have A Tantrum Then Go With It

Yes, that is Jase being re-born through the very top of our “indestructible” tent.

There was a wind storm and the seams chose to stop doing their job.

We were enjoying our stay at Lake Powell and had to adjust our itinerary to exchange our home at Cabela’s. The closest one was a 5 hour drive down to Phoenix. Very out of our way, but what else could we do? We have our lightweight tent with us, but it can not withstand all weather conditions.

Cabela’s had no problem allowing us to exchange our tent without a receipt for a completely different brand and threw in a $300 gift card.

By the time all was said and done it was 6pm in the middle of 110 degree heat, PMS and did I mention how much I despise busy city type places? I had a melt down in the Cabela’s parking lot.

“NO! I am not camping near this shit show of a city Jase! AND I refuse to drive anymore today! AND we just got a new tent that neither of us has ever set up before. I’m beyond exhausted, hungry, hot as fuck and delirious with hormones, I’m useless right now Jase, fucking useless, you would have to DO EVERYTHING! We are ripping a hole into our budget and staying in a hotel so I have a chance to regroup and catch my breath.”

“Ok, honey, that sounds great.”

So that is what we did.

I’d like to backtrack a week or so. After our last spot in Delores, CO, we made our way to Moab Utah where my second son Trent met us. We had a delightful time hiking and enjoying each others company.

On one of our hikes we had the pleasure of aiding a couple who had been lost in a canyon for 5 hours. All other passerby’s didn’t want to be bothered with it. WHAT????????

Jase was exceptional with keeping them calm and echoed his phone number down to them so they could send him the pin of their location. The rangers came along and helped navigate the couple out of the canyon.

We were all set to pack up early Saturday morning and head our separate ways. We did a scenic 8 mile hike (yes! I did it, slowly, but PAIN FREE!) on Friday and were planning to head back to camp for dinner when the wind and rain started. We quickly checked the forecast and the area was under a flash flood warning.

Upon arriving to camp at 8 pm, our tent and bedding was soaked and covered in red desert dust. We quickly gathered our things to get out of the canyon we were camped in. Trent lives in his van so he went to higher ground and found a parking lot to stay the night.

Jase and I drove out of danger until 1 am and set up our soggy gear in a cow field. We awoke to thunder and light rain along with wind gusts and had to tear down quickly almost losing our lightweight tent.

We eventually made it to Lake Powell where we set up our indestructible tent and it did not make it through the wind gusts. We did enjoy a few days of peace before shit hit the seams.

All in all, Jase and I are embracing this lifestyle and taking things one moment at a time. We both had a difficult time falling asleep in the hotel last night, which is a sign we are acclimating to the great outdoors.

Wisdom In The Trees

I found this letter while looking for a tree to hang our clothesline.

We’ve been camping in this spot for 5 nights. It’s near Mesa Verde National Park.

We went to the park the other day and it was a ghost town thanks to Covid. I’m by no means complaining. This is the perfect time for outdoor travel and homelessness.

Jase and I have been doing our best to steer clear of public places, even opting to boil our undies in the insta pot. Yes, you read that correctly, I found yet another use for the pot. Last night we enjoyed a delightful split pea soup from it’s lions while catching a double feature on the big screen (see double rainbow below)

Overall we are having grand time. Someday I will return to more intelligent blog posts. For now I’ll let our photo’s do the storytelling, as our days are filled mostly with daily tasks that take much more time than if we were in a house.

Miss Stinky Pee-Pee Pants

So I’ve peed my pants twice on this journey.

The funny lookin funnel thing in the above photo is what I call my “she-wee”. It’s god given name is “the freshette”. I’ve used it for the past 5 years to stand and pee in the woods. It wasn’t until this trip that it malfunctioned. The funnel couldn’t handle the flow and spilled over into my pants and down my legs. Good times. Fuck off she-wee……. you are no longer on my favorites list.

We drove from Montrose to Dolores, hitting the town of telluride on the way.

We popped up a quick camp for the night and had some red curry for din din. The insta pot is becoming a great companion.

We are traveling with both of our cars bursting at the seams with gear for every occasion. Living out of your car is nothing like packing up for a weekend of camping. This is a whole new ball game and we are making up the rules as we go.

I Am Not A Diva

I don’t know where to begin.

Feels like I’m out of touch with blogging.

We spent a week in Leadville Colorado, by the Mt. Massive trail. I chuckle every time I say “Mount Massive”. It’s the second highest peak in the state, for anyone who’s in to facts.

Since my two oldest boys love the outdoors and live relatively close, they came out for the SNOWY weekend. Yes, snow, cold and yuck.

We enjoyed cocoa, shortbread and chicken noodle soup in the comfort of our cozy tent home.

My eyeballs are filled with tears as I type and share these images. Words can not articulate the gratitude I feel for these memories.

My left hip has decided to throw a tantrum, causing pain up and down my entire leg. We suspect it’s the change in bed, cold and the spinal chord cyst. Life is never without challenges.

I have also discovered I am not a diva. I tried using the diva cup before my period started and I’m glad I did. It is certainly not made for me.

I shoved, twisted and contorted that thing into my vag every which way possible. As the day progressed it fell out. I purchased the correct model for those who have had children. Apparently they need to design a cup for the “oddly shaped” vag. I have vivid memories of being in labor and nurses having to contort themselves and the hospital bed just to reach my cervix.

I can not imagine a diva cup filled with menstrual blood making an exit without any say in the matter.

We tore down camp yesterday, spent 5 hours driving, and landed in the town of Montrose at a $50 motel to regroup and take scalding hot showers. I tell ya what, after taking a solar shower in the snow this motel is like the fucking Hilton. Washing my hair that has been in braids and stuffed under a beanie was an exercise in patience, but I got the job done.

Our plan is to head toward warmer temperatures and find a place to set up camp.

Mentally I’m doing well. I had another telehealth appointment with my psychiatrist. She explained how my brain has been wired to believe “it’s never ok”. I am on the waiting list for the healing trauma program as I will only work with female practitioners. She said it’s worth the wait as it will help to gently re-wire by brain and get out of PTSD mode. In the meantime she upped my dose of buspar and said I can pop a gabapentin anytime I have a fibromyalgia flare or anxiety I can get control of.

Cricket is no longer with us.

I don’t want to talk about it.

I’ll likely never want to talk about it.

I feel like someone took an ice-cream scooper and gouged out my insides.

Homeless Glamping Nomads

Yes we are alive, and yes this is our tent, inflatable couch and all.

We have come in to town to check email n things. We are sitting outside the closed public library in the car using their free internet.

We are staying at a beautiful wooded site, on a creek near the mountains. Our first 3 nights have been smooth. We will stay here at least 3 or 4 more nights as we try to get the hang of things.

We are very fortunate to have glamping gear for our newfound homelessness. Even Cricket is enjoying the hell out of it.

I’m happily devouring Sylvia Plath’s “The Bell Jar” and will likely start it over once I’ve finished it. How have I not picked this book up before, it came out it 1963…….where have I been?

I’m gradually becoming friends with the insta pot. We made a green curry that was quite edible and some oatmeal with apples, cranberries and walnuts. I’ve also decided it makes a great place to do the dishes. They come out steamy, just like a dishwasher.

I much prefer the old fashioned method and Jase makes for some great scenery.

Well, that’s it for now, I hope everyone is well! We must get back as Cricket is back at the homestead and is bound to be hosting a kegger with the woodland creatures.

Diva Cups and Hot Pink Coolers

I have to leave the house today for tampons. I ordered a diva cup and it hasn’t arrived yet.

Not familiar with the diva cup? It’s a flexible cup you stick in your cooch when you’re menstruating. I was hoping to have it now so I wouldn’t have to get acquainted with it out in the backcountry. Dreams do not always come true.

The magnet above, holding Archie’s artwork in place, is from my older sister. It pretty much sums up how I feel about leaving the house today.

I know it will be good to get out, but my anxiety is off the charts. I woke up with a pounding chest, shaky limbs and the feeling of my blood racing.

Pisses me off to wake up like that. It makes it feel out of my control. I literally open my eyes and Whoop there it is. No warning, no time to prepare. Just a slap in the face.

I did finally get a call through to mental health partners. Service is patchy at our house and the service gods were shining down on me today.

I have a 2 hour phone call scheduled for Monday. I will have to sit in a parking lot somewhere.

It will be good practice for future appointments since we will be on the road campsite jumping. BLM lands let you stay in one spot for 14 days and then you have to pack up and move at least 20 miles.

I’m grateful we have such nice gear, who knew we were making such an investment. It’s sad that if our gear didn’t make us appear “wealthy” we would get picked on by the rangers. We’ve heard horror stories of people getting fucked with.

They still might pick on us seeing as our Yeti cooler is bright salmon colored….borderline hot pink

Such is the society we live in. Gotta look good on the outside.

Cluster Clucks

Cluster~fuck: a complex, and utterly disordered and mismanaged situation: a muddled mess.

Ashley’s post on how to spot fake health news got me in the cluster~fuck mood. Here in the states you’re better off not reading the news at all.

About anything. EVER.

I received this video below in my e-mail and had to share. It about sums it up. Hopefully it will work. It’s from FB and I don’t have a FB account.

I needed a break from packing and organizing, also a cluster~fuck. But I did come across my teeth whitening trays so at least I’m multitasking. My teeth were looking a little dingy. Now they will be white enough to blind the grizzly bears while I’m screaming for my life. Meh, who needs bear spray?

There’s a lot to consider when moving into a tent. Like changing our address.

5506 Tent Life Boulevard, Bumblefuck U.S.A

I’ve changed my address 5 times in the past 4 years. I’ve been a nomad in the making all along. At least the bill collectors won’t be able to find me.

These Are Hairy Times

Sometimes when you’re cleaning the house and you find a disturbing wad of hair. the only thing to make it less disturbing is to stick a pair of googly eyes on it.

Just sayin.

On a more sane note, we’ve been busy beavers making sure our gear is up to snuff since we’re going to be living the tent life soon.

Boring, but essential things, like our small generator, battery pack and toilet. I even tested the breakdownability (not a word, I know) of our current toilet paper in a container of water and shook it around. Not quite as disturbing as the googly eyed hair wad.

I’m more interested in the air mattress, Moroccan style bedding, inflatable couch and string lights. The glamping stuff that has nothing to do with survival but everything to do with comfort.

Cricket the cat has been enjoying chasing mice INTO the house because her ass~hat humans left the door open. Then she stays up all night chasing them and knocking shit over.

This morning she brought this little bird inside. Cricket is apparently making sure her “gear”: claws and fangs are in proper working order.

Our 12×12 Castle

On May 15th we’re moving into our tent.

Our landlord said we could stay, but he wants full rent, and is not accepting the relief from the mortgage company. His OCD won’t allow him to get off schedule. I can respect that. After all, I did just try to kill myself in his house a few weeks ago, we’ve all got our issues. Best of luck to him finding new renters.

Jase and I are not squatters and have no interest in going through the eviction process. That just sounds awkward and stressful. It’s an experience I don’t need in my life. Since Jase and I already have a lot of outdoor gear, why not put it to the test and live in it.

Currently neither of us is working. Out of all the families I cleaned for 1 has still been paying me weekly. I insisted she stop as I don’t know if I will return to clean and what our situation will turn into. She is stubborn like me and keeps sending me money. I am collecting unemployment from the part time job I also had. We figure, why spend money on rent. Let’s save what we have and use our gear.

Side note: My body has been pain free since the ketamine infusions. It was also the time I stopped cleaning homes, because of the pandemic. I have no desire to go back to cleaning as I’m not interested in finding out if it was the ketamine, not working or both that got my body back into alignment.

I’d rather be a homeless glamper than go back to chronic pain and fatigue.

We plan to use our time away from modern life to clear our heads and decide what direction to go in. There is a laundry list of things I disagree with when it comes to society, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I never come back fully. I’ve always felt like an outsider, I’m excited for these changes and to see what’s around the corner.

With so much to figure out and do, I may not be on blogland as much, but look forward to making updates on our progress.

Mental health side note: My doc prescribed me an anti-anxiety med while we work on getting a psychiatric evaluation. I have 2 different clinics I can reach out to for help.

I’m not overly thrilled about being alive but don’t feel like I’m a danger to myself, so that’s progress.

I’ve only had one glass of champagne since I overdosed, also progress.

Seeing as I’ve always been an outdoorsy person, I do feel this adventure will iron out some wrinkles in my head.