The elk here are enormous and they visit our tent in the wee hours of the morning. It is cold at night now which means we have to pitch the rain fly. It obscures our view of the stars and those dark figures passing quietly by our tiny nylon home, stopping to give us an inquisitive sniff--their exaggerated harrumph of an exhale waking us both. Too cold, too sleepy to unzip the tent, the evidence they were there--shiny brown pellets scattered in the low desert shrubs, reassuring for some reason.
Too chilly here to venture out till 10Am, but we did today, to the east rim to watch the canyon wake up. Deep dusty purple and dreamy blue giving way to desert rose pink--soft and light for a few minutes before striking yellow orange as the sun begins to kiss the highest plateaus.
Afterwards, back to our tent. Our hideout since 7:30pm when darkness brings bitter cold. Sleeping in our thickest socks, thermal pants, sweat shirt, winter hat, extra blankets, and still cold all night. Plans for scarves and gloves tonight, so our fingers frost slower as we attempt to find a good position for reading: The Lacuna, Barbara Kingsolver for me, Wish You Were Here, Stewart O'Nan for Amber. The nights are so long now. Twelve hours of dark. Sixteen hours of cold.
Huddled back inside the tent this morning we brewed coffee Amber bought in Tijuana. Azteca, it's called and it smells like heaven. We listened to NPR--our lightweight, solar/wind-up radio is a trooper, even when we are miles from everything it keeps us connected--gay marriage legal in NJ!, Obamacare online system a mess.
We bought good food this time and this morning we are baking pumpkin bread with chocolate chips on our "whisper light" camp stove. Pretty astounding to have fresh sweet bread in our tent. Our smallest camp pot inside our bigger pot with an inch of water. Lid, lid and we've got a steam oven (and a much needed tent-humidifier)--thank you Mike and Maddie from New Zealand! It takes a little TLC and a lot of tending, burnt fingertips, but the bread is PERFECT. And we hoarded just enough plastic teaspoons of butter from the hotel in Vegas to eat like queens.
Hi Rah-Shell and Amber, sounds unforgettable, that's for sure. Love that you can listen to NPR and eat yummy and warm stuff. Congrats on being brave, although I doubt you see yourselves as such. Beautiful writing. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteRach! Usually I know exactly which one of you wrote which post by about the second sentence in - my own game of "name that tune" for nerds who love to read. But this post had me stumped! It has just the right bit of romantic Amber flair (I know she'd hate to hear the word "romantic" to describe anything she does, but it's true, she's a romantic writer. Deal with it.) without losing the clean, crisp, Rachel prose that I know and love.
ReplyDeleteHope all is well in the cold desert - xo