My time among the Little creatures?
Posted: Fri Nov 02, 2007 11:10 amThis is a basic, but perhaps usefull "camping tip" kinda story, for those of you who will venture far and wide to the Four Corner's region of the American Southwest.
If your a purest, you will perhaps, not like this recant, because it ocurred not in a Teardrop, Blasphemy, I know, but in a tenting situation?
I'd prefer to think it happened in the "dark time". The darktime prior to my own TD purchase.
Alais, now reborn, I have truely seen the Light!
A city slicker heads West. . . .
"Ya just gotta see the Four Corners" she blurted out?
Me, I'm thinking I've seen all the corners of Times Square? And that's not my idea of a vacation, a ferry ride into the City? Especially during, "Hot time/ summa inda City".
"NOOOOO, not New York City"!
"Arazoinia, Collradio, Utah and New Mexico"!
Feining complete understanding, I blurt, "Oh that Four Corners"?
Might as well been the dark side of the moon?
Like I know where that is?
Some daze later I arrive to the "region" and absolutely loose it. I had never been West of Philly. Been places far and wide, but never ever saw "RED ROCK".
Canyons of Manhattan, but never such natural beauty, open honest, genuinely freindly, uncommon, people. Honestly, Southwestern paradise.
For those of us whom have never experienced the American Southwest it simple defies description.
You have to see it.
Ok, miles pass, scenery blurs, wallets always open, we get to a place where time stands still. It makes no difference, exactly where it is, cause this is a "camping story", complete with a subliminal camping tip.
By dumb luck, we end up on an Native American reservation/land mass, that is near acient Plueblo ruins. Hey, this Bozo thought they only used Teepee's?
Anyway, nesteled among cottonwood trees and near a brook, the hundred or so, "Donation only" campsites, went begging? Old hands know that's not a good sign?
The place was quiet and gorgeous and empty?
I'm thinking burial grounds and ghosts, the city slicker wife's thinking, keep driving?
We stay. We unload in the hot summer heat. We get the tent (or the TD level/I'm trying to include everyone here) and head to the john for a look see.
I'm going to duck the entire "Reservation" thing. I'm not PC, it' all about, forget it. I prefer to enjoy the scenery, I'm a guest.
I quickly found the place had basic facilities, and limited amineties.
I found this charming. The wife, well, thats another story?
I'd like to believe that what we found next, shows the Native American's deep spiritual connection to Mother Earth? Or some perhaps deeper meaning of the sancity of all living creatures, and tollerence for all forms of life?
In a freaking nutshell, the place was crawling with the biggest, meanest ants i had ever personally seen, or saw on a "CSI" show!
Grissom, would have died!
The marm, always the more cultured one, screams,
"Lets get the hellO outta here"! So much for education and grace?
"We're leaving, but were going to the super market" I chime?
"YOUR GONNA EAT"?
Not exactly?
Now, I'm figureing I have about two, three choices?
The Urban part of me, sez find the three biggest cans of Raid and nuke 'em?
Futile, but I was there?
Or, drive another hundred miles, and more money spent, in the heat?
But wait?
In a moment of shear genius, modest, I know.
I decided to turn the other cheek, be/ do, the correct thing?
To look at the situation, as say, an ant. Or a Native American might see it?
"NO I"M NOT GOING TO EAT"
"I'm going to feed em"!
The retort came fast and loud?
"GET OUTTA OF DA HEAT"!
Undaunted I left with doubting marm in hand for the "Dine' SuperSavor". The "reservation's" supermarket.
Dine' meaing "The People".
SuperSavor. . . Well c'mon?
Being calorically challengened myself, i felt a certain, Mano-Anto, connection?
That's right, I bought the biggest, sugary, Oreo-like, store brand of sandwhich cookies i could find?
"You know, your crazzy" she huff's?
Smiling to myself, self rightously at that, crazy as a fox!
Upon our return I swear the entire "Southwestern Ant Nation" had encircled our site. This was not going to go well?
But a plan is a plan!
I started to drop the "cookies" about three feet away from the tent(camper). From the picnic table, the two majestic but crawling, cottonwood tree's where we strung the washline, and around the fire ring?
Who knows where these guys came from? Could be some of those rare Fijian Firewalker ants in this mass?
Ya just never know?
The wife, safely in the "Taco" just shook her head in utter disbelief?
Upon my joining her she utters,
"Now what Bawanna Paleface"?
"Now we go to the ruins while the tribe, eats"!
The ruins are a must see and there all over the Southwest. I have no idea how they, the ancient Native Americans, got up those cliffs, dug out those structures, or managed the climate. It was a three or four day adventure for us. I loved every minute of it.
Live in Metro New York and "you'd love a parking lot in the sticks"!
Anyway . . .
Meantime. . . back at the Teardrop, er , tent?
Upon our return not an ant in sight, nor a cookie crumb could be found?
I dutifully dropped more "sacrifaces" each afternoon. On some levels I felt a connection, a oneness as it were, with my hosts?
In all the time we spent there, other frugal camper's came, and left rapidily!
Some asking, "how long you been here"?
Three daze.
"You nuts" !
Nope, i speak the dialect and prescribe to a higher authority!
Finally ,like all campers, the time comes to pack up, oops, hook and leave.
I place the forty bucks in the donation container and return to the site.
When the wifes not looking. . .
I bend over a mound, like to say, "Goodbye, or something"?
And for moment?
I swear, i swear heard those now sugar crazed ants humming,
No, it cant possibly be?
I'd swear they were humming
Kumbyah?
A fog of peaceful coexistence waifed thru the campground!
I left knowing in my heart I'd done no harm, and reached out, made a fragile connection of sorts, with yet another mis-understood acient "culture".
Yep, even Crazy Horse wudda been proud!
If your a purest, you will perhaps, not like this recant, because it ocurred not in a Teardrop, Blasphemy, I know, but in a tenting situation?
I'd prefer to think it happened in the "dark time". The darktime prior to my own TD purchase.
Alais, now reborn, I have truely seen the Light!
A city slicker heads West. . . .
"Ya just gotta see the Four Corners" she blurted out?
Me, I'm thinking I've seen all the corners of Times Square? And that's not my idea of a vacation, a ferry ride into the City? Especially during, "Hot time/ summa inda City".
"NOOOOO, not New York City"!
"Arazoinia, Collradio, Utah and New Mexico"!
Feining complete understanding, I blurt, "Oh that Four Corners"?
Might as well been the dark side of the moon?
Like I know where that is?
Some daze later I arrive to the "region" and absolutely loose it. I had never been West of Philly. Been places far and wide, but never ever saw "RED ROCK".
Canyons of Manhattan, but never such natural beauty, open honest, genuinely freindly, uncommon, people. Honestly, Southwestern paradise.
For those of us whom have never experienced the American Southwest it simple defies description.
You have to see it.
Ok, miles pass, scenery blurs, wallets always open, we get to a place where time stands still. It makes no difference, exactly where it is, cause this is a "camping story", complete with a subliminal camping tip.
By dumb luck, we end up on an Native American reservation/land mass, that is near acient Plueblo ruins. Hey, this Bozo thought they only used Teepee's?
Anyway, nesteled among cottonwood trees and near a brook, the hundred or so, "Donation only" campsites, went begging? Old hands know that's not a good sign?
The place was quiet and gorgeous and empty?
I'm thinking burial grounds and ghosts, the city slicker wife's thinking, keep driving?
We stay. We unload in the hot summer heat. We get the tent (or the TD level/I'm trying to include everyone here) and head to the john for a look see.
I'm going to duck the entire "Reservation" thing. I'm not PC, it' all about, forget it. I prefer to enjoy the scenery, I'm a guest.
I quickly found the place had basic facilities, and limited amineties.
I found this charming. The wife, well, thats another story?
I'd like to believe that what we found next, shows the Native American's deep spiritual connection to Mother Earth? Or some perhaps deeper meaning of the sancity of all living creatures, and tollerence for all forms of life?
In a freaking nutshell, the place was crawling with the biggest, meanest ants i had ever personally seen, or saw on a "CSI" show!
Grissom, would have died!
The marm, always the more cultured one, screams,
"Lets get the hellO outta here"! So much for education and grace?
"We're leaving, but were going to the super market" I chime?
"YOUR GONNA EAT"?
Not exactly?
Now, I'm figureing I have about two, three choices?
The Urban part of me, sez find the three biggest cans of Raid and nuke 'em?
Futile, but I was there?
Or, drive another hundred miles, and more money spent, in the heat?
But wait?
In a moment of shear genius, modest, I know.
I decided to turn the other cheek, be/ do, the correct thing?
To look at the situation, as say, an ant. Or a Native American might see it?
"NO I"M NOT GOING TO EAT"
"I'm going to feed em"!
The retort came fast and loud?
"GET OUTTA OF DA HEAT"!
Undaunted I left with doubting marm in hand for the "Dine' SuperSavor". The "reservation's" supermarket.
Dine' meaing "The People".
SuperSavor. . . Well c'mon?
Being calorically challengened myself, i felt a certain, Mano-Anto, connection?
That's right, I bought the biggest, sugary, Oreo-like, store brand of sandwhich cookies i could find?
"You know, your crazzy" she huff's?
Smiling to myself, self rightously at that, crazy as a fox!
Upon our return I swear the entire "Southwestern Ant Nation" had encircled our site. This was not going to go well?
But a plan is a plan!
I started to drop the "cookies" about three feet away from the tent(camper). From the picnic table, the two majestic but crawling, cottonwood tree's where we strung the washline, and around the fire ring?
Who knows where these guys came from? Could be some of those rare Fijian Firewalker ants in this mass?
Ya just never know?
The wife, safely in the "Taco" just shook her head in utter disbelief?
Upon my joining her she utters,
"Now what Bawanna Paleface"?
"Now we go to the ruins while the tribe, eats"!
The ruins are a must see and there all over the Southwest. I have no idea how they, the ancient Native Americans, got up those cliffs, dug out those structures, or managed the climate. It was a three or four day adventure for us. I loved every minute of it.
Live in Metro New York and "you'd love a parking lot in the sticks"!
Anyway . . .
Meantime. . . back at the Teardrop, er , tent?
Upon our return not an ant in sight, nor a cookie crumb could be found?
I dutifully dropped more "sacrifaces" each afternoon. On some levels I felt a connection, a oneness as it were, with my hosts?
In all the time we spent there, other frugal camper's came, and left rapidily!
Some asking, "how long you been here"?
Three daze.
"You nuts" !
Nope, i speak the dialect and prescribe to a higher authority!
Finally ,like all campers, the time comes to pack up, oops, hook and leave.
I place the forty bucks in the donation container and return to the site.
When the wifes not looking. . .
I bend over a mound, like to say, "Goodbye, or something"?
And for moment?
I swear, i swear heard those now sugar crazed ants humming,
No, it cant possibly be?
I'd swear they were humming
Kumbyah?
A fog of peaceful coexistence waifed thru the campground!
I left knowing in my heart I'd done no harm, and reached out, made a fragile connection of sorts, with yet another mis-understood acient "culture".
Yep, even Crazy Horse wudda been proud!
?
