Summer Sabbatical Part 1

I’ve been taking a fairly long sabbatical this summer.

And, yes, I do plan on coming back to teaching after this, which should be interesting considering the new variant of covid.  I sense some more “pivot” coming our way.

When we traveled to Oregon in May I realized how exhausted I was.

I was wrung out.

The 4 years of the Trump administration probably would have been enough to exhaust the normal right out of me, but add in a global pandemic and the intensity of pivoting and pivoting and pivoting…I was walloped.

Game over.

Over the course of the pandemic I developed a jaw clenching habit during sleep.  My dentist, behind his protective gear, suggested he was seeing an awfully lot of this and that we were a society deeply under stress.

Migraines returned with a vengeance, taking residence in the left side of my head at least every two weeks and often more than that. Sometimes they lasted 3 days and mostly I soldiered on.  

I also developed a habit of scrolling endlessly through social media. That was a rather palliative solution to stress because it didn’t really help me deal with the cause of my personal stress level.

There were other interesting stress manifestations, most of them having to do with anxiety, and this was while I was doing ALL THE THINGS – sleeping, eating well, exercising, practicing, meditating, expressing myself through art, walking outside a lot with my doggo, talking to and spending zoom time with my support group.

The one thing I didn’t do, though, was simply stop “doing” for any length of time. I kind of went into “hyper-mode” when SIP began.

This sabbatical is all about not “doing” – especially not doing the things that the committee who resides in my head assures me are necessary in order to be lovable, a good person, perfect, successful, and all that other BS that is manufactured around that committee table. 

But the last few weeks have been WONDERFUL and much less full of “doing” and more about “being”

I’ve had the opportunity to just “be” and contemplate how just “being” might be possible even in the midst of “doing”.

The upcoming tightrope act of my life, for sure (insert emoji of weird crazy face).

If you’re at all interested, I wanted to share some of the highlights of the first two weeks of my sabbatical.

The Van-Burrs and the Van-Comos Go Van Camping

The “Van-Burrs” left early on the morning of my birthday, driving to Highland lakes campground to meet the “Van-Comos” (Laura, Gary, and doggo Stella). Laura is my birthday twin, so we shared this lovely birthday trip together.

Highland lakes are in 7 miles in on a winding sketchy dirt road off Highway 4 just south of Ebbetts pass at an elevation of 8600 feet. It’s a spectacular high alpine valley where the two lakes are the headwaters for two different watersheds – one feeds the Stanislaus River drainage and one the Mokulemne River drainage.

We spent the next 5 nights in this remote campground sharing time together, hiking on and off trail, swimming in the lakes, playing guitar, making art, reading, eating, watching the sky and the smoke from nearby fires change, and often just sitting around together.

While the exercise at high altitude is really great for my soul, sitting around with friends in a relaxed way is a panacea to all that ails one.

Van camping shared living room

Vida’s perch inside the van

Chillaxin

Day hiking in Gardner Meadows

Waist high wildflowers

Jim post swim at a high off trail alpine lake

We were treated to so many wildflowers!

Camping Clean – swimming in Highland lake every day

The Burr’s move to the east side – time to backpack!

Jim, Vida, and I drove early Sunday morning from Highland lakes over to the eastern side of the Sierra for the next part of our adventure, a backpacking trip over Mono Pass and up into Pioneer Basin off the Mono Creek trail.

Driving east and then south on 395, we turned right at Toms Place (blink and you miss it) and headed up to Mosquito Flats parking area at 10,000 feet.

Weather that included thunder storms was forecast for Sunday and Monday.

We debated – stay at the backpacker’s camp near the trailhead for a night and start out early the next day or head up to 12,000 feet on a very exposed trail over Mono Pass?

We decided to move as quickly as possible up to the top of Mono Pass and be willing to turn around and come back down if the storm hit.

It rained

and

how we handle hiking in rain

This decision worked in our favor, although we did hike 9 of the 11 miles in rain.

Jim and I have learned through a lot of trial and error what to do about hiking in rain.

First and foremost, keep the important stuff dry. Our gear is packed into our lightweight backpacks that are lined with a trash compactor bag, which keeps the warm clothes, tent, and sleeping bags dry.

Pack covers have failed us in the past.

The removable top section of our backpack holds things that can get wet and a dry bag full of the things that shouldn’t get wet but need to be accessible.

Although it can get cold at 10,000 – 12,000 it was mid-July and we bet on generating warmth by moving rapidly uphill at altitude while getting wet.

When it rains we hike in shorts,  allow our shoes to get wet (they’ll dry out and the second pair of wool socks is deep inside the pack staying dry), and use very expensive lightweight rainproof jackets on our torsos. We pull the rainjacket hood up over our sun hats for two reasons – keeps the head warmer and keeps the rain from dripping directly on one’s face. We also have these funny water resistant mittens that weigh less than an ounce but work well to keep fingers from getting so cold that they don’t work to zip up jackets or hold hiking poles. 

These are the times when I realize the amount of “grit” I somehow have access to deep within my personal DNA.

There I am at the newly minted ago of 59 just plugging along at a rapid pace uphill in the rain at high altitude with 25 pounds on my back, a dog leashed to me, not able to feel my fingers, feet soggy, nose running from the effort, and continuing on. 

Why?  Oh, just because. (and if you stick around to look at this next set of photos, you may understand the “why” and there’s this whole spiritual thing that happens when it’s just you and 360 degrees of mother nature with very little barrier between)

It took about 5 hours to hike up and over Mono Pass, down to Mono creek, and back up to 10,800 feet in Pioneer basin.  Luckily the rain stopped for the last mile or so, giving us time to set up camp, and mostly dry off, especially Vida,  No wet dog in the tent – hooray.

First camp site in Pioneer Basin

And then all hell broke loose in the sky….

This is not a black and white photo – this is the brewing storm that kept us company ALL day 

On Day 2 we were treated to one of the biggest thunder and lightning events we’ve ever experienced while out in the back country.

For me, it was a “I believe in something greater than myself, amen” day.

I have never been more grateful for the expensive Zpacks tent that Jim purchased a couple years ago. It’s a 19ounce 2 person  tent made out of Dyneema composite fabric.  It has what is called a “bathtub” floor – the floor comes up to meet the sides of the tent a bit like a bathtub.

Home sweet home during the storm

It held up to an assault of rain, hail, wind, and sleet, keeping the two hoomans and one doggo comfortably dry and cozy.

We woke to stormy skies, had coffee, breakfast, and watched the storm build.

Watching the bolts of lightning like mad jabbing fingers pelt the higher peaks across from us while counting the “miles” between the strikes and booming sound was our entertainment. 

We spontaneously erupted in “oooohs” and “aaaahs” and “OH MY GOD’s” over and over again.

Girl and her dog watching the storm across the valley in the high peaks – on its way over to us

The sky began to let loose its variety of liquid and we retreated to the tent where the aforementioned elements assaulted the tent along with bright flashes of “sheet” lightning and raw reverberating thunder continued throughout.

The reverberations were so awesomely raw and HUGE that I could picture large rock formations letting loose some of their hold and crashing down the sides of mountains.  Who knows?

Between thunder, lightning and pelting rain

Procuring water between sky outbursts

A short walk between downpours

Deceivingly calm

Vida barked at the thunder, but pretty much hunkered down inside the tent with her hoomans, happy to sleep off the previous long day of rain hiking and make our sleeping bags into her own personal nest.

This cycle occurred several times throughout the day.

Talk about meeting Mother nature up close and personal.  This storm will be one I never forget.

3 Days of Pioneer Basin exploration and out to “base camp”

The day after the storm we day hiked widely in Pioneer basin visiting all the lakes we love and climbing this side of Steelhead pass.  We swam, hiked, admired the wildflowers, ate lunch by a lake, made coffee by another lake, watched Vida not quite use up her endless energy, and talked about how different it all looked from two years ago when there were still patches of snow for Vida to zoom in and the lake levels were much higher.

Looking out over Pioneer basin from Steelhead pass

And towards Steelhead lake on the other side of the pass… this is a pass we talk about doing.  It appears really steep and for me, somewhat treacherous for the first couple hundred feet and then it’s a rocky valley until you hit that far out ledge before descending into Steelhead lake.  I’d hate to get to that ledge and say to Jim, “nope, back up we go”.  I have some research to do before tackling this one.

Another view of Pioneer basin from a bit further down

Me and V at the lakeshore

Me and V hiking through the basin towards “home”

Windy middle aged selfie, but feeling much younger than we appear.

We moved our camp site the day before we left Pioneer basin to our favorite lake and spent the day exploring, swimming, and relaxing. We were the only ones in this area – hadn’t seen another human being for 2 days.

New camp site nestled behind a large boulder just up from the lake

Camped by this gem

Used my camp towel to create shade for V who was sleepy and uncomfortably hot

Actually set an alarm to wake up early the morning we were hiking back to “base camp”, our van parked by Rock Creek waiting for our return.

This is how the morning greeted me as I gratefully drank my Starbucks instant coffee by the side of the lake:

Returning to “Base Camp” we “bathed” in Rock Creek and started north towards Bend to visit our kiddo, her husband, and their big black muppet puppy, Arlen.

Base Camp was waiting patiently for our return.  It was hard to leave this spot, but alas, there is no camping at the mosquito flats parking lot!

Vida drank some water, ate some food, and crashed in her crate under the bed in the van.

A drive north, delightful daughter visit, and a quick stop in Santa Rosa

Camped in Base Camp at a free BLM campground off 395

The drive north was excessively long as we were diverted well into Nevada due to the fires out of Markleeville closing 395.  We drove for hours through smoke filled skies in California, Nevada, and then Oregon.

After a long slog over Mono pass and what felt like endless driving we were so ready for sleep.

At around 9:00pm, 100 miles or so over the Oregon border, we saw a little sign with a tent on it to the side of 395. 

We’re pretty new to this “let’s just be spontaneous and find somewhere to park the van for the night.” 

Most often these spontaneous campground visits are connected to several miles of slow dirt road driving and sometimes there is actually a campground and sometimes not, sometimes we drive in and it’s a big  “nope”, and sometimes they are quite delightful like the one we chanced into that particular evening.

Ramhorn BLM campground had the nicest pit toilet we had used on this trip, which is something to be extremely GRATEFUL about!

In Bend, we spent weekend time with M, Ryan, and Arlen.  I cooked lots of food, Jim did repairs and fixes with M, M took me to her local “crunchy granola” organic grocery, Ryan introduced Vida to Arlen for about 30 seconds before that became too overwhelming (and I have a video to prove it), Vida got to go on several long hot walks, we visited the Deschutes river trail, we checked out real estate and looked at a house in Sun River (yep, we’re seriously considering a second home/cabin), had morning couch time with Arlen, and taught the kids how to make BBQ pizza.

It was so relaxing and enjoyable to do “normal” things together in light of this past year of not seeing one another much and having a masked wedding.

Summer evenings in Bend are warm and sweet.

Walking with my loves on the Deschutes river trail.

Home repair with Dad.

Vida loves that couches are dog territory here. Didn’t take long for V to figure that out!

Morning coffee with my big muppet buddy, Arlen.

We stopped by Santa Rosa on our way south to visit with my folks.

How lame is it that I only have a photo of the blackberries I picked with them in the orchard?  No people pictures.

If you’ve made it this far, you are truly a trooper!