I’ve just walked my early morning mile with our dog,
Tessa. I love being out as day breaks,
preferably before sun-up. It is one of
the reasons I backpack.
Camped on a trail after a good day’s hike, I am living with
the rhythm of nature – sleep shortly
after sundown to be up shortly before sunup.
The world is calm and still for a few moments at those times
of day. I love that quiet time, when am fully a part of the soft breezes in the
trees and distant chirping birds and the overall hush. These are sacred moments.
Yes, I’ve had something similar in the pre-dawn streets of
mid-town Manhattan. But the clear, clean
mountain air adds a supreme touch to these times of day.
I do have the advantage to being out at those peaceful times
of day, living out here at the end of the rough dirt road in the Sangre de
Cristo Mountains. Still, even this is
not the same as crawling out of my sleeping bag to the chill mountain air in
first light of day.
At times when I have tented in campgrounds, there is usually
someone up earlier than me. And the soft
rustling of their moving about their campsite usually gives a nice, comforting
touch. However, it is a delicate
balance, for thoughtless campers who talk even in low tones of voice, or are
less cautious about the clanking of their pots and pans, create an annoyance
which could easily be avoided with a bit of attention.
Hence, my preference is camping primitively, well away of
others, and alone. Most of my backpacking
friends seem to have a similar outlook – both about being out there at these
times of day, as well as camping alone.
I’ve mentioned the mountains, for I have spent most of my
hiking and backpacking life in the mountains.
But, I am just as enamored of the canyons of the American Southwest –
slick rock canyons of Utah as well as the wider, deeper canyons of Arizona and
New Mexico. And my favorite, of course, is
the majestic Grand Canyon. My nephew, Kenn
and I have backpacked virtually all of its trails and have a secret spot where
we often set up camp after just a few hours of hiking and are completely by
ourselves.
Then there is a little-known canyon, in which Kenn and I,
were visited by a UFO. Honest to Pete!
I’ll write about it at another time.
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