Attempting to frame the rear-view mirror and its reflection of the desert behind, I rolled down the window and held the iPhone out in the onrushing air.
“I’ve got to stop taking photos as I drive,” I muttered to myself. So I put my phone in the center consul and drove until the photogenic shadow of my camper against cliff wall made me snap another image.
As I descended towards the valley floor I looked up at the mountains. I’d traversed this range for the past decade to escape passing Southern Californian winter storms. Their steep flutes and spires weaving cool grey shadows between soft pink rock. This place was once a sea shore when the waters of the Cortez met the outrushing Colorado river.
Now this basin North of Salton Sea is home to a modest community of retired Snow Birds looking to extend their longevity by rock and wildflower hounding instead of shoveling winter snow.
Bronze homage to the wild things that inhabited this once lush land.
Geoff Lawton is a surfer and heir to the permaculture movement started by Bill Mollison and David Holmgren in the 1970’s. Permaculture requires a long description. It’s an advanced form of regenerative agriculture that focuses on landscaping and terraforming to work in harmony with natural ecosystems to provide adequate food, water and shelter for its practitioners. What makes it so great is that once an area is properly setup it requires minimal maintenance. As Bill Mollison once coined “The designer becomes the recliner.”
For more information about Geoff and permaculture visit- http://www.permaculturenews.org
Sleds of Ryan Lovelace (l to r)
5’10 Piggyback, high performance twin for Trevor Gordon.
5’????? Rabbitsfoot, accidentally built for goofies…
5’10 v.minor (mini v.bowls), originally for Michael Kew.
7’6 ladywriter (mid sized roundpin v.bowls offshoot) for my gf Lauren.
8’ roundpin v.bowls, built for Troy Mothershead.
An early morning session with a Korduroy X Wegener handplane
After 3 months of work the camper took its first trip
Hiking Shoes? Check
I talk to myself. It’s residual condition from growing up an only child.
I closed the last wooden storage compartment in the floor of my camper. For some reason I always get anxious when packing, I guess I’m fearful that I’ll forget something. Ironically, I’ve never left anything that I haven’t been thankful to leave behind. The accouterments of “civilized” living weigh us down and deprive us of the gifts bestowed by freedom. I am addicted to comfort and I travel as a means of breaking that addiction.
To me, the word “adventure” means “thinking on your feet.” By creatively solving physical problems I gain more resiliency to fight the fear and static. The goal is simple… but packing isn’t. Packing sucks.
Walking around to the side door, I admire my new mobile digs. The new imitation oak floor nestled beneath the pine trim makes it feel like a proper home. I grab the hanging broom from its hook and sweep the dirt I tracked in while packing. Ready to go.