Mountains

I left the office mid-morning to do some range checks in the mountains.  My second day working solo and my first time to this allotment.  Little did I know I was in for a real treat.

I work in the forest everyday, but this wasn't typical country.  I was up over 10,000 feet and very near treeline.  Gamble Oak ceased to be the main vegetation cover and more and more fir's lined the road.  It was cool and the wind was blowing a fierce storm towards the peaks.  I had made a couple stops when I explored around a spring some.  I knew I was close to the point I needed to find, but I couldn't see it anywhere.  During said search I didn't feel like I was at work at all.  I wandered silently along a cow trail and spied a deer, I wasn't obtrusive in any way and even though it's bow season she didn't give a care.  I came upon a meadow, the grass was still wet with morning dew and it was wonderfully quiet.  Quiet in the way lonely mountains are.  There was no incessant babbling, no clomp of others footsteps, no roar of an engine.  There was just me in this calm and serene place, the only sound coming from the whispering of the wind through the quakies.  It did wonders for my soul!

I continued to climb into avalanche territory, which is just phenomenal to me.  There were several hunting camps along the way but the feel was just different.  The weather played a big role in this as well.  There's something fantastic about the calm before the storm.  The last place I checked was another meadow sloping down into a spring.  If I didn't turn around and look at the bald peak behind me I could almost imagine I was back home.  Walking around in country as familiar to me as any.  It was beautiful and the grass, oh the grass!  Who knew so much grass could grow in the South West?!

As I headed to my next point I came across a rancher on a big buckskin paint, his little Border Collie Pug right behind him.  I'd only met him once before but we had a nice chat, we left each other with well wishes and a hope of staying dry.  Less than 10 minutes later it started to sprinkle, followed by flashes of lightning.  I headed back to my pickup with no wish of being struck. My next route was a rough one, barely good enough to drive a pickup.  By the time I arrived the rain was coming down in torrents.  With my windows up the thunder still crashed with incredible sound.  I've never been that close to the sky when it broke open.  A part of me wished I didn't have such great cover, that I was out in the open and could really watch the show above.  It was magnificent and with wipers on high I reluctantly turned around and left.  I didn't feel confident enough to try and risk the road that appeared to be little more than a trail in such a storm. I can't wait to go back and finish.  Next time though I hope to check the last section a horseback.  To be able to ride in country such as that is a dream.

XO Loves,

Me

The Ballad of Ira Hays

This is one of Johnny Cash's songs from his album Bitter Tears that was released in 1964.  I've always really liked it, but it's not one you hear very often if at all.  Which is just my kind of song.  Ira Hays was one of five Marines and a Navy Corpsman who raised the flag on Mount Suribachi in WWII, only three of these men left that hill.  When I was 13 I had the fortune of seeing this bronze statue in Washington D.C.  Here's a great VIDEO of the song that also gives more information.

"The Ballad Of Ira Hayes"

Ira Hayes,
Ira Hayes

[CHORUS:]
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war

Gather round me people there's a story I would tell
About a brave young Indian you should remember well
From the land of the Pima Indian
A proud and noble band
Who farmed the Phoenix valley in Arizona land

Down the ditches for a thousand years
The water grew Ira's peoples' crops
'Till the white man stole the water rights
And the sparklin' water stopped

Now Ira's folks were hungry
And their land grew crops of weeds
When war came, Ira volunteered
And forgot the white man's greed

[CHORUS:]
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war

There they battled up Iwo Jima's hill,
Two hundred and fifty men
But only twenty-seven lived to walk back down again

And when the fight was over
And when Old Glory raised
Among the men who held it high
Was the Indian, Ira Hayes

[CHORUS:]
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war

Ira returned a hero
Celebrated through the land
He was wined and speeched and honored; Everybody shook his hand

But he was just a Pima Indian
No water, no crops, no chance
At home nobody cared what Ira'd done
And when did the Indians dance

[CHORUS:]
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war

Then Ira started drinkin' hard;
Jail was often his home
They'd let him raise the flag and lower it
like you'd throw a dog a bone!

He died drunk one mornin'
Alone in the land he fought to save
Two inches of water in a lonely ditch
Was a grave for Ira Hayes

[CHORUS:]
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war

Yeah, call him drunken Ira Hayes
But his land is just as dry
And his ghost is lyin' thirsty
In the ditch where Ira died

XO Loves,

Me

Running Away

In the last couple of years I've gone through some major life changes.  I've hit rock bottom and thought for the longest time that I'd never rise above it all.  Somewhere along the line though I grew up and before I knew it I'd changed.  I found myself again and with strong determination I found my path as well.  I haven't looked back and I can honestly say that there's very little in life I've ever regretted. 
I've worked hard to overcome my demons.  I'm much stronger and self assured than I was even two years ago.  I tried to forget, I tried crying it out, tried drinking the pain away, talked with a counselor and even tried outrunning the memories.  But here I am, 1,000 miles away from all the pain that I've ever endured and I'm forced to face it all again. 
Facebook is a gift and a curse.  I have very little cell service at my house and during the day I usually have none at all.  Thankfully I'm not on Facebook very often.  However, the last couple of weeks I've come face to face with names through friends that cause an immediate unwanted reaction.  It doesn't matter how many years have gone by,  even the simple mention of their names causes my heart to race and I falter between being angry and deeply sad.  It's worse at night because then my subconscious is left to deal with the heartache and pain, which usually leaves me exhausted and totally unsettled the next morning. 
I wish I was stronger.  I wish I could hear their names and see their pictures and feel nothing.  I wish I could be a cold hearted, uncaring, unemotional woman who has completely left her past behind her.  Try as I may I'll always be too emotional.  I'll always care too much and I'll always end up hurt.  Hiding out here in the desert where the deer population outnumbers the human sounds better and better.  They say time heals all wounds, but even the oldest of my wounds still slows me down. 
I'd have to say my favorite flower is cactus.  They are the true beauties of the desert, growing in otherwise impossible conditions.  They hold out until they have all they need then they grow the most beautiful flower.  Something so beautiful you wouldn't think you'd see it growing in sand where very little rain falls.  They're almost inspiring.  They make me feel like no matter how impossible life gets or how I feel that at some point I'll have all I'll need.  Someday I can grow into that beautiful flower and all will be right within my soul.  I dream and pray for that day.

XO Loves,

Me