Monday, September 30, 2013

Recap of trip to Colorado

I wanted to simply share some of our adventures on the way to Colorado.

On the morning of the 19th in Iowa, we experienced some steering trouble with the RV.  It behaved weirdly, then jerked and righted itself.  A stop at the Flying J revealed the need for power steering fluid and thankfully nothing more.  Our front end and steering all looked good, according to the mechanics.  We later learned that part of our problem was that some boxes in the cab of the Ranger were blocking the free movement of the steering wheel, making the Ranger's wheels lock up, tugging and pulling on the RV.  A little rearranging and no more problem.

Then in Nebraska (near Sidney) we had a sudden explosive flat tire on the Ranger.  In closer inspection, we discovered a part of our muffler had fallen off (rusted through), caught up in the right rear tire and did some minor damage to the right rear wheel well.  Uncertain of the extent of the damage, we used our first AAA call, had the Ranger towed to Sidney, and replaced the flat.  The damaged metal in the wheel well was easily pounded back into submission and although it is not a pretty, it is quite functional.  Thank the angels!

Crossing Nebraska, I was picking up on the long tortuous journey it must have been for folks in wagons and wrote this poem:

West, west
Step by step,
West and rest
West and rest
One foot before the other.
Wagons graoning
Saddles squeaking
Horses chuffing
People moaning
West, west.
And west further still.
The Platte River around Lexington and Ft. Kearney (pronounced Karney) was the place were several trails west ran.  The Oregon Trail, the Mormon Trail, the California Gold Trail, the Pony Express, and Lewis and Clark.  A major crossroads in American history.  We stopped at the Great Platte River Road Archway in Kearney, but it was too late in the day to justify the $12 per person entry fee for the museum.  Another time, perhaps, if you can ever convince me to drive across Nebraska again.

We stayed the first night in western Iowa and the next morning, we discovered a lookout tower along 80 West that overlooked the Missouri River Valley at the boundary of Iowa and Nebraska.  Terrific views of a morning thunderstorm!  This was followed by a visit the the Holy Family Shrine just across the border in Nebraska--beautiful and spiritual place.

We did stay a lovely evening in Gothenburg, Nebraska.  The campground was next to a roping arena, very pretty and quiet and the firewood was free and already stacked at each campsite!  We didn't use it, however, as we were only staying overnight.

The following morning we entered the long, dry, barren end of Nebraska.  Trees and hills virtually disappeared, nothing but short grass prairie and cattle.  Very little civilization, as desolate as the tundra, or the Russian steppes.

Despite our setbacks we arrived in Loveland, Colorado at exactly 6 PM, in time to begin our set up for the fair.

Here is photo montage:

Chapel at the Holy Family Shrine overlooking I-80.

Great Platte River Road Museum over I-80.

View of the Missouri River Valley from lookout tower.

Sculpture at the Holy Family Shrine.

The Pony Express Station in Gothenburg, NE.
Rain skirts over western Iowa.
Motorcar and gas pump among the pumpkins

Panoramic view looking west from lookout tower in far western Iowa.  In the distance is the Missouri River valley and Nebraska.

Our Lady at the Holy Family Shrine.

Sculpture on the roof of the Great Platte River Crossing Museum.

Old tractor and new windmills in western Iowa.

Friday, September 27, 2013

September 27 Dreams and Thoughts

LOVELAND, COLORADO.  It's funny how many times I plan to post on the blog on a certain topic or experience, only to find that I don't get to it, or I am compelled to share something entirely different.  Today, I am sharing this rumination.

September 27, 2013

I had a night filled with dreams and anxiety attacks.

I dreamed about Barbara and asked why.  Was told because I haven’t forgiven her yet.  I dreamed about  being in Mitch Mally’s office (which was now on the 2nd floor of a new building) and was moving furniture out of it, collecting it to be moved (it was now mine). But the most vivid dream was this one:

I am in Millie’s house in Sparta and Mary Ellen is there, too.  Rick has gone into town or something. Mary Ellen is telling me about some of her happy childhood memories of the lake.  Lake Sparta is big and churning, and seems to be growing larger.  There is rain, but it doesn’t seem to be a lot.  The lake feels powerful, like the North Atlantic.  I watch as the water swells and lake comes up the hill, taking out houses and sweeping them away.  I see holes open in the ground near houses, become dark depressions filling with water as the houses collapse.  I’m standing at the front door and I see the water just at the bottom of the property.  There is no place to go, but oddly, I’m not afraid, just powerless to do anything except observe.   

Then, from behind the house comes a roaring sound as a mudslide brings a huge timber-carrier truck crashing into the back of the house and the whole house shakes. Soon, it all begins to subside, and Mary Ellen is there again, asking what happened, and I’m worried about Rick.  Then I am outside and Rick is making his way across a muddy bog-hole on the side of the house to get to me.  He has to swim a little ways, but he comes up smiling, as always. 

I woke with anxiety really high at 5 AM, then again with a lesser degree of it around 7.  I’m trying not to react to the anxiety attacks as an emotional response of my own.  Instead I am trying to hold them at arm’s length, not overreact to them and discern if they are actually mine or not.  The answer is they are partly mine, because we are nearly out of money and I had to cancel two important ads I cannot afford to pay for. 

The other is that I am open and picking up on the anxiety of entire communities here in the Rockies after the devastating floods.  Does this help? Does my experiencing this help syphon off some of the fear others are gripped by? I am a channel, after all, perhaps I sometimes also act like a drain, a relief valve, drawing excess negative energy away from those who are suffering.  By drawing it through my own energy field, I experience it as if it were my own, react emotionally by crying or feeling terrible fear, but maybe that is exactly the way things are supposed to be.  Maybe my processing this energy and releasing it in ranting or crying, I bring healing to others.  If that is the case, I willingly accept my role—but I need to understand it.

I used to think the anxiety attacks were warnings (and sometimes they were).  I found this to be a very frustrating aspect of being psychic—why have them, if I couldn’t do anything to stop the “bad thing” from happening?  But over these past years (since leaving Phoenix), I have found that they are very, very rarely any kind of warning, because my life has done nothing but improve in the past 13 years.  We got a house, I went to Americorps/Red Cross, I went to four colleges and got four degrees, went to Montana twice, went to Ecuador, went to New York, went to Atlanta (Be The Change), ate with the 9/11 firefighters, saw President and Rosalyn Carter speak, heard representative John Lewis speak, met Howard Bogguss, visited Valley of the Chiefs and the Anzick archaeological site.  I’ve seen my grandson born, loved a little boy fiercely (Kyle), and had a happy marriage.  I’ve gotten Psycards back, had my book published after 23 years, and learned to channel.  An amazing thirteen years and most of it were goals I set out to accomplish.   

And I have had anxiety attacks all along the way.  Most of which seemingly had nothing to do with me.

Clues for interpretation: 

  • ·         “Raging rivers, rapids, and lakes without borders often reflect being out of control of one's circumstances.” –Dream Dictionary (online)
  • ·         “To dream of flood means an overflowing of information or insights or losing oneself... more of something than you are able to control.”  –Experience Project
  • It is also possible that it is no “coincidence” that we have come to a flood-ravaged disaster area—is it also possible that in the greater scheme of things, this physical experience is also a metaphor for my inner feelings?
  • ·         “If you dream about a flood, more likely than not you have recently felt overwhelmed in your life by something (or someone) that seemed like an uncontrollable force – one which left you feeling somewhat helpless, at their mercy, and victimized.  If you feel relief during the dream, it could mean that you have bottled-up (or “dammed up”) emotions that you want to release.  Your subconscious mind is letting you know what a relief it will be when you release these emotions and sort of let the flood gates open!  –
 It is true that this big a change feels overwhelming, especially when I put so much pressure on myself to be successful.  I think I will spend the next few days resting, meditating, and putting together all the pix and experiences of the trip from Illinois to Loveland, Colorado.

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Addendum to "On the Road"

I forgot to mention that last night, after we parked, Rick discovered a toad that had hitchhiked from Fisherman's Corner!  He was hopping around in the RV.  Must have been hiding in the bucket that the plants were in.  Toad as a totem means we are entering a time of altered states of consciousness, a change of luck from bad to good, an increase in fortune and money, and a reconnection with the Earth.  Happy news.

On the Road to CO

No time to post photos today or a lengthy post, but I wanted to keep everyone apprised of our location.  We made it almost all the way to Nebraska when we stopped for dinner.  The little cafe had "Survivor" on--the first episode of the season, so we stayed to watch that and realized we were too tired from the heat of yesterday to go any further. 

Luckily, there was a campground behind the EconoLodge in Walnut, Iowa, just a half mile from the cafe. 

The toad vehicle did very well, not a ripple of disturbance on the tarp, held up through the rain without anything getting ruined and tracking nicely.  Crosswinds are our worst enemy, though, making the RV sway and lurch--really quite terrifying!  But we stick to the right lane and do around 50 MPH and we get there, with frequent stops for me to stop hyperventilating!  Rick, as always is cool and calm and patient. God bless him.

We are about 40 miles from Omaha and about 8-9 hours from Cheyenne (Nebraska is longer than Iowa is across).  Hoping to make Cheyenne by nightfall and camp there.  We have to take the Interstates because US 34 into Loveland from I-76 has been washed out near Greeley.  So it was either go through Cheyenne and take I-25 South or go all the way down to Denver and back up 25. 

We're supposed to encounter scattered thunderstorms today, and temps in the 80s, so hold us in your prayers for safety and cooler weather.

Yeehaw!  We're heading West!

Saturday, September 14, 2013

Feeling gratitude and ready to fly

God bless those human “angels” who show up to help when you are most in need.  We have been fortunate to meet Chuck and Jennifer and their children Elizabeth Rose (13) and Austin (14). 

Today Chuck helped Rick put the tow bar on our Ford Ranger and tomorrow he is going to help us set our water system to rights.  We were originally scheduled to leave tomorrow, but one more day or two will not hurt us, as we don’t have to be in Colorado until the 20th. 

But what good fortune to meet folks who have talents and tools and a willing heart.  Generosity is truly one of the greatest gifts of the spirit.

Tonight Rick has determined shall be our “farewell party” and he has gone into town to fetch some friends (Hutch and Paul) to come and help us celebrate our last Saturday night in the QCA for some time to come.

Tomorrow I will give our PO box key to Mandy and Dan so they can retrieve our mail for us as needed.  This will also enable them to have an address to use. It is my hope that they will take up Luke’s offer of a room to rent. 

I still need to pick up the remainder of our inventory and figure out how to pack it.  And we still need to take one last trip to the storage unit to store unneeded things and fetch the baskets, license and seat from my other bicycle.

Tomorrow I will have to vacate my seat at the table (officially my office) so the boys can remove the bench and get to the water holding tank, so I will be working outside most of tomorrow.  Fortunately, it is supposed to be cooler and despite predictions of rain, I shall be fine and dry beneath our new canopy. 

The Universe has spent this summer proving to me that I can trust, I can have faith and all will be well.  Blessed be, we are poised to launch into a new life.

(In spite of this, I have been sad all day because I miss my Dad and I can't call him and share my news.)

Monday, September 9, 2013

9/9 and 97

These next two days are the return of miserable sweltering heat—let’s hope it is the last of summer’s mean-spirited side. It is 8 AM and I haven’t been out yet, but the morning even looks steamy.  The humidity is visible, every leaf on the trees is still. 

Today is uncertain for us.  We are at the end of our 14 days on this side of the campground. Because it is after Labor Day, we are allowed to move to the other side without having to go to another campground, but the site we want is reserved through tomorrow.  We have asked permission to stay here an extra night, but we have not yet received any response from the Park Rangers. So, we have no idea where we will be sleeping tonight.  As a plan B, I am pretty certain that at the worst, the four of us can stay overnight at Luke’s (well, the six of us including the cats.)

I am anxious to get on the road, but scared, too.  Still, there is no other option at this point.  There is only one path open clearly and that is to be western-bound.  My Capricorn moon is never happy about not knowing what will happen, at not having a clear-cut plan, but then what plans are every reliable?  Life is full of surprises and I’m trying to get the hang of staying happy in the face of uncertainty.  But deep within, I feel a calling--a calling to a place of community where many others share my views and my beliefs.  Somewhere, I think, in the Pacific Northwest. 

Today I will work on some Psycards necessary work (shipping, record-keeping, etc.).  We will probably go to the library to return the movies and maybe get some more.  Next week, we move to Scott County Park for a final night or two in the Quad Cities, and to have the RV’s brakes and other systems checked at Automotive Central in Eldridge.  We still have to buy the necessary equipment for towing the Ranger and learn how to use it.  But I doubt anything important will be accomplished in the next two days—because I am nearly non-functional when we have temperatures of 97 degrees, as predicted! 

I hope this next week brings contact from the Colorado Springs television station for Mandy and perhaps we'll be traveling together, or at least end up close enough to visit.