Another Volunteer Project

I can't pull myself away from the park. There is so much I've already explored and so much I haven't explored that I go back day after day. I am a volunteer now which is a perk in a way because it allows me to take a G-vehicle instead of my own gas guzzling one. So yesterday I ambled back into the park, got the Big Dodge, and headed out to the area where BF and I went on Friday, but not exactly. See on our way back, we found what we thought was another site.

So I stopped into the office to pick up a radio and hopefully locate my cell phone and sunglasses which I have lost in the last several days at the park. The radio was the only thing I picked up. (Little to say, I don't know anyone's # because it is all on the phone). I told Boss Lady to listen for the ever famous SS or Triple S. Sara Situation or a Serious Sara Situation. I told her where I was going or at least the general location. I got suckered into doing some petty work and then

I drove out the 18 miles to the dirt road and then to the KB area. The drive out there was quick as they have just graded that road FINALLY and now you can go 80 on it. Oops, I didn't type that. I was rambling down the road when a NorthernHarrier flew over the drainage and into a tree. I hopped out and watched him through the daddy-bought binos. Eventually, I arrived at the parking area and hurried up the hill because I didn't want the other visitors to see me going off trail to locate this site. I scrambled up and over rocks and took a few risks that would have sent me down the hill if I stepped wrong.

I reached the top and pulled out the necessary tools--food, GPS, camera, pen/paper. I ate first while walking around checking to see if there was other images/writings on the wall. I didn't find any and the GPS unit was up and running by the time I returned. I marked the location, took photographs, and wrote down the names. Who Walter R Godman is I am not sure, but he was in the area between 1910-1915 according to the writings on the wall. N.N. was there sometime between 1935 or 1955 (I couldn't determine what the numbers said). There were other people who had scrawled their markings, but I couldn't make it out. What we thought was rock art was a half-circle (otherwise known as a semi-circle) with some scratchings in the center. (Does a half circle have a center?) There were two other images, but unknown what they were. Most likely all from Walter R. Godman. There are several old mining camps in the area so may be Walter is from there. Finished with my work, I decided to explore in the area some. (Side note: I just looked up Walter R Godman in Google and got a guest book from a funeral chapel--what is the internet coming too).

So I started exploring and found a peaceful area that I would like to return to with a pen and journal and just write down my thoughts of the day. There was no sound in the quietness of the breezy air. It was just me, the rocks, the spirit of Walter R Godman, and the Earth. The blue sky was littered with random clouds that were like cotton balls. TheCloud I wish I could explain the color of the sky. I wish I could explain the taste of the air. I wish I could explain the feel of the sandstone. However, you wouldn't understand because you weren't in the moment.

I found this crack and in my mind made up some fantasy to where it would lead if I went through it. (Possibly to my sunglasses and phone). Possibly to a Heaven that I do not believe in. Possibly to Hell where if one exists I am going. Possibly into the canyon below--the most likely answer. But mostly I think about what it must have been like to explore this region when there were no roads leading to this place. What must have it been like to explore where no man had been before. And I correlate it to being the first man to step foot on the moon--an unexplainable feeling to all.

I turned my attention from the crack and looked over the valley. I shot this photo--anarch. And didn't realize the magnitude it had within the confines of my soul until I pulled it up on the computer at home. And you might think that it is a beautiful shot, but again you won't know the true feeling of it because you weren't there. Even if it takes your breath away, it won't be the same as if you were standing there. I live by the belief that you must get yourself dirty to truly enjoy the beauty of this Earth.

I explored around some more finding a couple more arches and taking in the beauty of somewhere I had been before, but had never been. As I was hiking down I heard the ever cry of the Tattle Tell--otherwise known as a swift. I call it the Tattle Tell because for some reason when it cries out other things happen like other birds appear. There was a fairly large blackbird in the distance. I pulled up the daddy-bought binos and took a look. I watched intently as it soared and then went into dive bomb mode and then soar mode. More or less it was playing in the breeze and wind current that comes off the bluff. Then the second one appeared. I watched them both until they flew through the beams of the sun and blinded me. I believe they were turkey vultures, but not sure because they didn't have to obvious markings of them, however; their flight patterns were conducive to a turkey vulture.

I arrived back at the vehicle and headed down the 4 wheel drive road. I would stop many times and do rehab, trash removal, and just things that needed to be done. I finally returned to the office, searched for my phone again, and headed home with my heart soaring with the birds.

I leave you with this photo that I changed with photoshop--Spiral

After writing my patrol logs for my last couple of days, I am heading downtown to the library to find out who Walter R Godman was...