Scars of Bear Canyon

The photo above shows remnants of the infamous Little Bear fire near Bonito Lake in Bear Canyon in New Mexico. The fire was back in 2012, this was taken in 2017 as I passed through looking for a camping spot.

I had no idea this happened so it was astonishing to drive in and see utter devastation everywhere. The lake was filled with fallen & burnt trees and the closed (South Fork) campground mirrored apocalypse.

I later learned the fire destroyed over two hundred buildings over 44,000 acres of land. Scary and we seem to be seeing more of this these days.

The good news is the area has come back to life with new growth and the campground re-opened not too long ago. I hope to visit again soon.


No gas, no groceries

Passed this on my way into Pie Town to …take a wild guess… sample one of their world famous pies back in 2017.

Blueberry and yes, it was quite good (but the absolute best was out in Nova Scotia… If only I could remember the name of the place, sigh).

Nearby is the Water Canyon campground nestled up in the Magdalena Mountains. Easy to get to yet remote with a rather treacherous hairpin curve tossed in just before you get to camp. Barely made it with my camper but it was so worth it.

I was the only one there, which is just how I like it.

A bit further down is the Datil Wells campground (on BLM land) and it was very nice with a beautiful, winding trail through the mountain above.


Still on hold

Long story short, I’m still in a holding pattern. First it was due to business issues, then it became chronic health issues, and now it’s a mixture of recovering from chronic health issues and staying clear of the COVID madness that prevails across our world.

It’s hard to sit still for so long, so I try my best with daily forays into nature and exercises to restore my health.

So I wait to wander freely once again. It won’t be much longer, I hope.


Hanging in for just a little bit longer

I headed out of Sarasota with my camper this late morning looking forward to resuming my wanderings. After I stopped to grab lunch I noticed the front of my camper was sitting a bit lower than usual…

Looked under the back of the car and saw the trailer hitch cracking/sheering apart where it is bolted to the frame of the car.


Fortunately when I took it to a local mechanic, he said the frame was fine and it would be easy to just replace the hitch with a newer, stronger one.

Part ordered, on the way this weekend. Hopefully I’ll be back on the road early next week.

Maybe it’s a sign for me to hang around a bit longer and enjoy a few more coastal sunsets like the one I saw this evening.

I suppose I can suspend my wanderlust just a bit longer for such beauty. : )


All your eyes look the same

Over my nomadic travels, I’ve looked into thousands and thousands of your eyes through different interactions of all kinds.

I’ve seen the most brilliant variety of colors in ’em all, ranging from black to brown, blue to green, and even from grey to white.

I’ve also witnessed all ranges of emotions within yours. Joy, anger, ambivalence, agony, sorrow, depression, sexual, curious, innocent, weariness and danger.

Sometimes the emotion in your eyes didn’t match your personaility in the moment. Despair pretending to be joy, anger pretending to be nice, (and vice versa) and so on.

(It’s true when they say you can’t hide behind your eyes, at least to empaths like myself.)

You more authentic folks didn’t have filters. What I saw was what I got. Sometimes it was startling, mostly it was refreshing because you were being real even if it wasn’t always a positive emotion.

Sometimes your eyes tell deep stories, such as the survivor from brain cancer behind the counter at her sandwich shoppe. I could tell she’d been through hell and back and she said so.

Some of your eyes had soul wisdom. It was often those of you living under tough circumstances, such as the extraordinary soul I befriended near my campsite who lost her mother and home at the same time.

Some of your eyes were flinty, unsure, and insecure. Those are the ones I’m wary about because when they’re uncertain like that, I’ve learned their ethics are also uncertain. Like some of the folks I hung out with in Mexico over Christmas who ended up breaking my heart.

And there are the angels like the intellectual nomad who pulled up in a rickety, barely functioning camper next to me and we ended up spending a starry night talking about all kinds of mind-stretching and heart-warming topics. I’m certain he was a fallen angel come to earth in disguise.

The one commonality I’ve noticed lurking behind all your eyes across all these lands?

They’re all the same.

All part of a vast, universal soul.


White light of Kundalini dream

I left one of the most beautiful, surreal, and serene campsites I’ve ever been in — it was very private up a mountain, had several brooks and a creek meandering through the middle of it and had a plethora of life — butterflies, birds (hummingbirds too!), chipmunks, deer, etc. It was a perfect respite from hot days down in the valley,

I would often sit in the middle of a little wooden footbridge crossing the creek, soaking my feet in the cold, clear water and feeling the air cool as it rose through me. Natural air conditioning can’t be beat!

I was flabbergasted that such a place existed on a dry mountain in a desert valley.

It was a very sacred healing place and I stayed nearly a week in paradise until I felt the urge once again to wander onwards. It was hard to leave. I even had tears rolling down my cheeks — I was that attached to the place. But still, it was time to move forward and I bid a fond farewell, knowing it would be never forgotten, always in my heart.

I ended up stopping at Angel Creek & Lake in northeast Nevada on a mountain called Greys Peak, another stunning beauty and paradise of a different sort higher up.

That night I had a profound dream of walking in a meadow where I turned into a powerful beam of white light surging into the heavens. The light flowing through me was so strong, the thrumming so intense I put my hand around my throat to keep it from falling apart.

The dream abruptly stopped.

Later in the morning I woke up feeling exhausted, woozy, and off balance. I wasn’t sure if it was the dreaded dizzies again and I felt nauseous and so worn out. I was also wondering if it was the altitude but it wasn’t as high as other places I’d stay at without any issues.

Maybe I was coming down with something.

I left camp to lower elevations to see if it made a difference. It didn’t and by the time I arrived at Twin Falls in Idaho, I was thoroughly wiped out and I still felt woozy, which really concerned me since it’s unusual for me to feel this way for an extended period of time, even a nap didn’t help. I ended up going to bed early.

When I woke up, I felt slightly better but still heavy in the head and off balance. I knew I needed to meditate, that sensation was strong, a calling, an urging. I could feel a thrumming through me…

As soon as I slipped into meditation and just let go, allowing myself to sink into the thrumming, like an information download, everything flew into place — the reason I felt so sick, tired, exhausted and tippy was because that dream of light was another Kundalini rising experience and when I put my hand to my throat, causing the dream to stop, I aborted the process.

As I’d learned in previous research from prior Kundalini experiences, prematurely stopping a Kundalini process can be messy to one’s body, wreaking havoc with energy stuck and fissuring about trying to find release.

So I further released into the energy and opened the way to Kundalini to finish what it started the other night. Massive flows of light and energy started flowing up my spine and through my throat out of my head. As before, it was an intense and a bit of a painful process, much like throwing up spiritually.

I started feeling relief and while the releasing continued, I re-experienced the dream, seeing and feeling white light coursing through me and exploding into all shades of greens, purples, and blues as it flowed out of me.

I also had flashbacks to two things I saw the day before that were significant messages trying to explain what I needed to finish but didn’t realize at the time. On my way up the mountain to camp at Angel Creek, I came across a dead snake on the road. Snakes represent Kundalini…. That was one sign…

That morning after I woke up from the dream, I took a walk around camp to try and feel better and I came across another snake right in front of my path… and it would not move. I thought it was dead, but it wasn’t. It’s very unusual for a snake not to move out of the way…. Yet another very strong message I needed to finish the Kundalini process.

Looking back on all this, I was surprised I didn’t put it all together after the dream and seeing snakes twice, but I was so out of it and clueless.

Finally, after an hour of finishing up the Kundalini flowing and releasing, I felt much better and a different kind of exhausted – the kind that happens after Kundalini releases and eventually I recovered through the day and returned to normal with a little good kind of tiredness similar to from a hard exercise.

I’m so glad I honored my instinct in the morning when I woke up to go into meditation earlier than usual… it saved my ass. The trapped Kundalini was like trapped snake poison.

All this was also a reminder that we are very much spiritual beings with a human body, not the other way around. I also believe that beautiful campsite I mentioned at the beginning was a trigger, eventually releasing Kundalini at the right time and the right place — at Angel lake/creek of all places.