Canyon Hike with New Friends

Nature + intelligent people + good conversation = a great time.

One of the reasons I’ve been so unhappy living in Wickenburg over the past few years is the lack of friends my own age who have similar interests.

As the years went by and Wickenburg shifted from being a ranching/tourist town to being a retirement community, all of our young friends moved away. There was Barb and Barry, who moved to New Mexico. Then Janet and Steve, who moved to Colorado. Then Lance and Keri, who moved to (of all places) Michigan. Some of our young, seasonal friends — John and Lorna come to mind — prefer hanging out with the old folks at the retirement community where they park their RV for half the year, opting for an ice cream social over a Jeep ride in the desert or a coffee gathering over a hike up Vulture Peak.

Because the town doesn’t offer enough employment opportunities for young people, it’s population continues to age, with more older folks coming here to retire, at least seasonally. I — or we, I guess I could still say — have quite a few friends old enough to be my parents. Sadly, most of these folks are not nearly as active as we are. And every year, when I return from my annual migration to Washington for work, I discover that one or more of them has died: Pete, Bill, Danny — rest in peace.

It’s depressing for someone like me who wants to remain active. While it was tolerable while I still had a husband at home — at least we could do things together on weekends — with him gone, the situation is bad. I decided to get proactive to find some friends.

I turned to Meetup.

Meetup

Meetup is a social networking service that makes it easy to find and meet up with — in person — people with similar interests for all kinds of activities. I’ve been a member for years and, in the past, have used it to hook up with a photography group based in the Phoenix area and a social group in the Wenatchee area. Last week, I worked it hard, looking for Meetup groups that might do activities near where I live. I didn’t expect to find any in Wickenburg — indeed, there are no Meetup groups within 25 miles of Wickenburg — but I found quite a few in the Phoenix area that do activities all over the state.

Last week, after hitting the Arrowhead Mall for a makeup consultation, I joined the 39 and Holding Club‘s “Hump Day” dinner, which was being held at Chili’s in Surprise, AZ. Although it was more than 30 miles from my Wickenburg home, it was still on the way home from the mall. It was a nice evening out with pleasant people. I met an interesting woman — I’ll call her “M” — who is also going through an ugly divorce that has been going on for two years now. (I sure hope mine doesn’t take that long.) M is the one who told me about Couch Surfing, which I linked to in one of my “Interesting Link” posts. So not only did I get to spend a nice evening out with new people, but I learned about some services I might want to take advantage of in the future.

I signed up with a bunch of groups for a bunch of activities ranging from wine tasting/pairing to hiking to archery lessons. My calendar is now quite full. And with new activities listed all the time, I don’t think I’ll have much trouble at all finding something interesting to do with others.

The Phoenix Atheists

I don’t usually blog about my religious non-beliefs because it results in a firestorm of comments by religious fundamentalists damning me to hell or worse. Of course, this means nothing to me because I don’t believe in hell. If you feel your anger rising now, take your blood pressure pills and move along. Comments blasting me (or others) for religious beliefs (or non-beliefs) won’t appear on this blog, so don’t waste your time posting them.

Yes, I’m an atheist. If you’ve been reading this blog regularly for a while and have somehow missed that point, shame on you. It’s not as if I hide it. If this is news to you and it upsets you, I’m sorry. I’d like to assure you that I have very strong moral convictions that don’t require an all-mighty being to supervise. I’m not a militant atheist — one who’s blasting believers all the time — I’m a live-and-let-live kind of person. If you want to believe in god, fine. Just don’t expect me to do it just because you and others do.

That said, I believe that atheists or “freethinkers” or “secular humanists” or “skeptics” — some of the names we apply to ourselves — are generally better educated, more intelligent, and better able to reason things out than the average person. I’m not saying all atheists are smarter than everyone else. I’m just saying that as a group, they tend, on average, to be brighter than the general population, better able to think before speaking, and better able to express their thoughts without offending others.

I’m not a dummy and I like talking to smart people. I like talking to people who are as smart as or smarter than me. People who can challenge me to think in a conversation. People who are able to discuss things deeper than what they saw on television last night, what’s in the news, or what they got in the latest Obama-bashing (or Romney-bashing) email in their in box. People who make me think about things that are interesting or important. People who can help me get a new angle on things, to possibly see things in a new way and build my own new conclusions. I like talking to people who can challenge me to think and to discuss things as an equal.

atheists.jpgI figured that a group of atheists should fit the bill. So when I found out that The Phoenix Atheists Meetup Group was going for a hike at Grapevine Canyon in Mayer, AZ, I decided to join them.

Because the trailhead required a 1-1/2 mile drive down a narrow, rough road, I took my Jeep and offered up rides to anyone who didn’t have a high-clearance vehicle. I got a call from another member — we’ll call him “D” — who was driving up from Yuma in his Toyota. We agreed to meet at the shopping area at I-17 and Carefree Highway, which was on my way north to Mayer. At 7:00 AM yesterday morning, I loaded up Penny, a fanny-pack full of frozen water bottles and snacks for both of us, my camera, and my monopod, and we headed out.

I got to the rendezvous point early. I topped off the Jeep’s gas tanks, then parked by McDonalds and started looking for others in the group. Another Jeep was supposed to meet there. What I discovered is that the McDonalds there is a popular meet up place for all kinds of groups of people. I’d stop at a small group and say, “Are you here for the hike?” (I didn’t want to mention atheists because some people get silly.) One of the people in the group would respond, “No, we’re going off-roading up by Crown King. You can come with us if you want.” Or, “No, we’re going scuba diving. Want to come with us?” Or, “No, we’re with the Miata Club.” (No invitation there.) I realized that even if I had nothing planned, I could go to the McDonalds, ask around, and go with the group that seemed to be doing the most fun thing. Whoa.

I finally found the other Jeep driver, “G,” and his companion. Then D. We chatted, loaded up, and headed north on I-17 to Mayer. I followed G’s Jeep.

I thoroughly enjoyed my chat with D during the 45-minute ride to Mayer. He’s a civil engineer who works with traffic control — light timing, traffic pattern design, etc. We talked about his work and mine and about each of our divorces. He was very supportive and offered some general advice from his own experiences. Although we didn’t talk much about that — I really didn’t want to — our chat helped clear my head and put me in a more positive mood for the hike ahead.

At the turnoff, there were more members of the group. I took on another passenger and followed a Toyota FJ Cruiser down a mildly rough road, with G’s Jeep taking up the rear. At the end of that little drive were more people and vehicles. I think our group wound up with a total of 14 hikers. A good sized group.

We parked and unloaded our gear. After a briefing from the group leader, we started off up the trail.

HikeArea.jpg
After driving down a rough forest road and parking, we did our hike in the area marked in red. We followed Grapevine Canyon most of the way.

We were on the eastern foothills to the Bradshaw Mountains. The Bradshaws aren’t very big — I think the tallest peaks might be around 6,000 feet — and the hills climbing up to them are mostly metamorphic rock and low bushes such as holly and manzanita. I kept Penny on her leash, mostly because there had been talk of mountain lions in the area and I didn’t want her wandering off. She walked with us like a little champ and only had to be lifted over one fallen log.

The trail started as a road, then narrowed to a wide trail. At a marked fork, we took the left fork, which was supposed to be level. It wasn’t. It climbed pretty steadily but not too steeply. Because we were hiking near a dry stream bed, there were some tall tress, including oaks and various pines. Scattered clouds and the trees helped keep the sun off us. Still, I’d dressed wrong in a pair of jeans instead of shorts. It wasn’t long before I was working up a good sweat.

Hand-carved Slingshot
We found this hand-carved slingshot hanging from the vertical poles of what may have been a hunting blind in a clearing along the trail. Magnificent workmanship! Of course, we left it where we found it; I hope other hikers do the same.

Members of the group split into smaller groups and chatted as they walked. Occasionally, the front groups would stop to let the stragglers catch up. It was very rewarding to me to be able to get into a conversation with any group I wound up walking beside. I was never excluded, other members seemed to go out of their way at times to engage me in conversation. It was exactly what I wanted from the experience: a good workout with good conversation.

Meanwhile, as the trail narrowed and climbed along the dry creek bed, it became tougher to follow. Soon, we were following cairns — piles of rock left to mark the trail. After a while, I was glad I’d worn long pants — others were getting their legs scratched walking through brush. Penny kept up very well, surprising me and others.

Eventually, we reached a dry waterfall with a seep-like spring. Thick green moss, which is rare in the desert, carpeted the rocks. Small flowers bloomed here and there. Butterflies flitted about. Facing an even narrower trail up the canyon, about half of us settled down to wait for the others to continue their explorations. Because various members had hand-held radios, we were able to keep in touch with all the groups. It wasn’t long before they’d had enough and began coming back.

Flower in the Sun
I captured this flower in a beam of bright sunlight.

The hike back was easier, probably because it was mostly downhill. Again, I found myself walking with different people along the way, talking about different things. It really helped keep my mind off my personal tragedy and the pain it was causing me. Being able to meet and talk to so many interesting people really pumped up my spirits.

Penny Resting on a Hike
We stopped for a long rest on the way back, mostly to gather the whole group together. I took this opportunity to give Penny some more water and let her rest.

Afterwards, we went to Leff-T’s Steakhouse in Dewey. The group insisted on us sitting on the outdoor patio so Penny could join us. I’m in the process of weaning myself off my diet — I’m very close to my final weight goal — so I ordered steak fajitas and ate about 1/3 of the portion, taking the rest home for the next two days. One of my companions kindly gave me a taste of his chicken fried steak — I love that stuff but will probably never be able to enjoy a full portion again. (Which really is a good thing, after all.)

We split up after that. D and I climbed back into the Jeep with Penny and headed back down toward Phoenix. Although it probably would have been closer for me to drive through Prescott, I admit that I looked forward to D’s company for part of the drive. We talked a lot more about what I was going through — he seemed genuinely interested and offered up all kinds of supportive words and advice. He also gave me some specifics about his post-divorce recovery process that I could apply to my own life and what I might face. It was extremely helpful to me.

After I dropped him off at McDonalds, Penny and I headed home. It was hot — seriously, I don’t understand how people could bear to live in Phoenix when the temperature is still hovering around 100°F on the first day of autumn. We made good time getting back and I was glad to pull the Jeep into the garage just as it was beginning to get dark outside. I gave Penny a much needed bath and took a hot shower to wash off the day’s sweat and dirt.

I was tired but I felt happy and hopeful for my future.

I’m really looking forward to my next outing with this group.

Postscript:
HappyThe hike leader, Al, posted a huge batch of photos that he shot before, during, and after the hike. Among them was this gem.

The ugly divorce I’m dealing with right now has been eating away at me day after day and night after night. But Al managed to capture the truth in this photo: my spirit is still alive and strong, I can still have fun, I can still be happy.

Thank you, Al. Seeing this photo really made my day.

Clothes Shopping in my Own Closet

Building a new wardrobe from an old one.

I returned to Wickenburg on Saturday and after a few minor difficulties getting into the house — a long story to be covered in the future sometime — settled down and began cleaning up the detritus of a 29-year relationship with a man who has become a stranger to me. Fortunately, he has at least one other place to live and, indeed, has already moved out. So Penny and I pretty much have the house to ourselves.

Folks who follow my blog know that I’ve been dieting all summer. I’m still losing weight — mostly because stress has taken away my appetite and keeps me on edge. The total weight loss so far is 38 pounds. That’s about 19% of my starting body weight. So I guess you can say I’m 81% of the woman I was in May.

I bought some new clothes in Washington and donated my “fat clothes” to Goodwill. But I didn’t bring all my clothes back to Wickenburg. The reason: I had a bunch of old clothes stored away in my closet — clothes from when I was thin.

Pants Outfit
This dressy pants outfit fits better than ever before.

Over the past three days, I’ve been trying on old clothes and shifting them from the back of the closet to the front. Yesterday morning, I tackled the jeans and slacks. I’d pull a pair of pants out of the closet, check the size, and then try them on. Then I’d walk into the bathroom where there’s a big mirror, and I’d check out the fit. And every single time, I’d say to myself, “I can’t fucking believe it.”

You see, with the exception of one skirt and a few pairs of jeans, I was able to get my body into every single item I tried on.

Including a denim skirt I’d made from an embroidered pair of jeans when I was in eighth grade.

In many cases, the clothes I tried on were too big. They went into the Goodwill pile. The clothes that fit got rehung on hangars at the front of the closet. Those few items that were too small — well, I’ll hold onto them just in case I keep shrinking.

Cocktail Dress
I don’t think I ever actually wore this dress. I think it was too small from the day I bought it.

Yesterday afternoon, I started on the dress clothes. I took the size 14/16 Lane Bryant dress — you ladies know what I’m talking about — off the hangar and bundled it up for my mom. Didn’t even bother trying it on — I know I’d be swimming in it. (It’s going to be very long on my mother.) I found a slacks outfit with a cute little short jacket and put the jacket on — 10 years of age fell off me. It looked sharp! And that little cocktail dress I wanted to get into? No problemo! Can’t wait to start wearing it on dates.

I continued going through clothes this morning and will likely continue tomorrow. It’s not just the closet — which I’m almost finished with — but it’s the dresser drawers and the storage bins under the bed. There’s just so much of it.

Short Black Skirt
A wardrobe essential: a short black skirt. I have four of them.

What I’m really glad about, however, is that I didn’t do this last year. I almost did several times, but the task was too daunting. If I’d done it, however, I would have thrown away the skinny clothes and then I’d have nothing that fit me now!

At this point, my car trunk and front passenger seat are completely filled with bags and laundry baskets full of clothes and old purses for the local thrift shop. I’ll drop them off on my way out of town this afternoon. (I’m heading down to the mall to get a makeup consultation and then have dinner with a singles meetup group.)

The best thing about this shopping spree? It didn’t cost me a thing.

Communication Breakdown

And no, I’m not talking about the Led Zeppelin song.

Imagine this scenario: A married couple have been together for many years. She’s been described by more than a few people as an “overachiever” — someone who sets many goals and then sets out to achieve them. She gets bored easily and is always looking for new challenges. He’s more laid back, generally satisfied with what he has, and often just takes whatever life hands him and makes it work for him.

In the beginning, the differences between them were minor. But as she shifted in one direction, he shifted to the other. After a long time together, she was ready to move on — preferably with him — and he resented the fact that she just couldn’t accept the status quo.

In the later years, she often brainstormed with him, usually on long car rides, about the things they could do together to make a more interesting life that relied less on the 9 to 5 grind he was stuck in. He almost always agreed they were good ideas. She thought they were on the same page.

But they weren’t. For some reason, he kept nodding but he wasn’t really agreeing. Yet he never told her how he really felt or what he really wanted. She never knew.

Then it was too late.

Communication breakdown.

Or think about this scenario: Same couple, but they’re living apart. She’s gone to her summer job for the fifth season in a row. She left early because she likes it there and can do more work earlier in the season. He doesn’t want her to go early, but he never tells her. He keeps his anger and resentment to himself.

She never knows how he feels because he never tells her. Instead, he tells everyone else, making her look downright evil for leaving when he wanted her to stay.

But he never told her. She never knew.

Communication breakdown.

Or this scenario: Same couple. He’s called her to tell her he wants a divorce. She’s surprised at the suddenness of it all — only a month before, they’d talked about him spending the summer together where she works. She’d begun planning, preparing, making room in her cramped quarters for another human being and a dog.

So when he suddenly tells her he wants a divorce, she’s shattered.

Communication breakdown.

Or how about this scenario: Same couple. They’ve talked it over in person and although she’s still shocked by the suddenness, she realizes that it really is over. She asks if it’s okay to wait until she returns home in October to take care of the formalities. He agrees.

In the meantime, he’s called her family members and at least one friend who lives where she works. She doesn’t know about this; he asks everyone not to tell her. The friend gets the wrong message from the call. He tells the wife that the marriage can be fixed. That all they need to do is get together and work on it. She’s doubtful, but he’s so sure. She starts to think that maybe he’s right. That maybe when she gets home they can talk it out and make things work.

But two weeks later, the husband contacts the wife, asking if she’s given the split any thought. She doesn’t understand — she thought they agreed to wait. What’s the hurry? But he won’t return her calls or texts promptly. When they finally speak, she’s strung out, confused by her friend’s advice and the signals she’s getting from her husband. She’s not rational on the phone. He gets angry.

Two weeks later, it happens all over again. Now she’s really upset, especially when she can’t get him on the phone right away to talk and doesn’t understand what his hurry is. And then when she does reach him, he’s nasty and hostile.

Communication breakdown.

And this scenario: Same couple. Not understanding how a man she’s loved for so long can be so hostile and mean to her and unsure of her future, the wife is completely strung out.

When she finds out about the other woman, things come to a head. She can’t sleep. She has no appetite. She cries on and off during the day with the tiniest thing setting her off. She begins seeing a grief counselor for help.

She writes him a long letter trying to explain her side of things and trying to get him to explain why he’s hurting her so badly. He doesn’t respond. This only makes things worse.

Communication breakdown.

In all these scenarios, a lot of pain is dealt out — mostly because of a failure to communicate. When will it end? That’s something the wife would really like to know.

Burning the Bridge Back to Fat-Town

Why keep oversized clothes I never want to get back into again?

I did laundry today for the first time in two weeks. I’d just about run out of clothes. Clothes that fit me, that is.

I’m down 37 pounds from where I was about three months ago. Back then, my jeans were uncomfortably tight and I preferred loose-fitting “chef pants” and cargo shorts. As the weight fell off, my clothes started fitting better. And then they started getting loose. It all came to a head about two weeks ago when I realized that I didn’t have any nice jeans that fit. As discussed in the postscript to this post from August 29, I went shopping and discovered that I wasn’t one size smaller — I was two sizes smaller.

I’m actually now wearing the same size Levi’s I wore when I was in high school.

Too Big NowSo today, after doing laundry and having my entire Mobile Mansion wardrobe clean and folded, I decided to start weeding out the clothes that were simply too big to look right on me. Actually, I started weeding in the laundromat, pulling all the XL sized tank tops and gym shorts. Tonight I tried on every pair of pants and shorts. And what I discovered is that every pair of pants and shorts I left Arizona with in May are now too big.

As I gained weight throughout my 40s, I packed away the jeans that became too tight to wear. I had a crazy idea that someday I’d lose weight and be able to wear them again. I can picture them now, in bags on the floor of my closet at home. In October, when I get home, I’ll tear those bags open and go through them. I bet I’ll find plenty in there to fit.

But what of the pants that are now too big? Do I save them, too? Just in case I get fat again?

I don’t think so. I think I’d rather burn the bridge back to Fat-Town. I’ll drop them all off at Goodwill tomorrow.

Pity for the Foolish

Even grown men can make dumb decisions.

This morning, as the sun rose and broke through the scattered clouds leftover from last night’s storms, I watched in awe as the golden light played on the orchard-studded hills across the canyon from where I’m living. The scene was so beautiful it almost brought me to tears.

Sunrise

But, at the same time, I was filled with an overwhelming sense of pity for my soon-to-be ex-husband.

Yes, I might be living in an RV parked on a remote hillside right now, but he’s living in a city subdivision, in a dark house surrounded by walls with a puny backyard barely big enough for our dog. And while I’m listening to my neighbor’s rooster crowing, he’s listening to the sounds of cars and the occasional siren and his neighbors slamming doors or shouting. I’ll be going out shortly on a walk to pick fresh blueberries for my mid-morning snack while my little dog Penny runs free in the orchard; he’ll be driving around in city traffic or maybe taking our poor dog for a walk along the curb in the subdivision on a leash. I’ll fly this afternoon and make some money. Tomorrow, maybe I’ll take the boat out on the Columbia River or take a hike along a creek or drive up to Chelan for some wine tasting.

Nature is right outside my door and I’m in it every day, enjoying every bit of it, working when there’s work to do, playing when there isn’t. I live well within my means so I don’t have to be a slave to someone else. But he’s caught up in the rat race, abandoning the financial security of our life together — or even his own life alone — to take on the responsibilities of a virtual stranger.

The saddest part of it all is that his current job gives him the ability to live anywhere.

He could have been here with me. I asked him to come. But someone else caught his eye and he forgot all about his 29-year investment in our relationship.

I think he would have really liked here. But it’s too late. He’s stepped into a trap and it’s sprung closed.

How can I help but pity him?