In Solidarity

Wow, all of your words, suggestions, and encouragement in my last post were truly touching. I’m hanging in there. Once we got back to Denver, a small weight of this season was lifted. Evidently, it may be awhile before I can be seen by a therapist … like, February. I mean, what the actual?! But by your comments and the general shit show that is our country right now I’m not even remotely surprised. We’re all falling apart at the same(ish) time, and there are not enough supports to keep these systems running in their current state. There’s solidarity in that, but also a lot of pain coming to the surface that must be realized both individually as a collective.

We can smile and laugh even amidst hard pain

Last week, I somewhat wallowed in this frustrating reality, having a significant need yet being denied or stalled when that need is acute. But I have a lot of tools and have been fully employing them. Not surprisingly, they all revolve around community.

Living simply and nomadically for 18 months, we established the foundations like sleeping well, eating two to three from scratch and nourishing meals together everyday, and by being outside and moving our bodies a lot.

Coming back to Denver I have only built on that foundation, I went to meetings and talked to my sponsor more, I got a haircut (how humanizing!), went to my chiropractor, said yes to dog sitting and baby holding – two of my favorite things. This week I will bake bread and brew kombucha. I’m trying to read and write more and scroll less, (probably the hardest bad habit for me to break).

I’m far from where I want to be, and it’s still hard. But hard is not good or bad, it just is. I’m settling into this season of hard with both kicking and screaming and grace, they take turns. For now that is enough and it is okay.

You Gotta Work

Signs are everywhere

We’re into our third week as woofers and have found our place!

I’ll go back to mentioning our first stay that I briefly skimmed over in my last post, it’s quite a contrast to where we’ve landed and is in perspective worth telling.

We left off in Blanca, Co, where after an hour long conversation with this family (while we were still in Denver) led us to believe we had similar values and goals with regard to homesteading. We were eager to begin our work there, but knew after about a day that it was definitely not the right fit. Word to the wise, we should have done some heavier vetting of our host including asking questions like, how close are you to a major highway? What is your water situation? How will the food duties be shared or divided? What do you do with your trash? Are you growing most of your food? Because while yes, this family had the GOAL of growing their own food and water storage, etc. they were far from any of that and we were parked in essentially the desert in the middle of nowhere with very very few amenities. Add to that some brief mentions of government paranoia and digging of countless holes, or some may say “bunkers” with a mini tractor, we knew we had to get out of there ASAP. This put the nail in the coffin for our Costilla County homestead aspirations, so aside from the inconvenience and discomfort it was good input and confirmation for many of the things we don’t want for our future.

Houseless like us, but with more stuff and burning garbage in the high desert, NOPE

We didn’t have another woofing opportunity lined up that quickly so we retreated back to San Luis and our friend’s land where the bus remained parked. We had another hiccup and confirmation here where a nosy neighbor on the Mesa had been hounding us about our overstay camping a few weeks prior. Of course he was one of the first people we ran into on our way back up there 🙄. We assured him we were planning to be out in the coming couple of days. The big reveal here that we had a good chuckle over was that he might go to the county to tattle on us, but we had just come from a homestead that was essentially camping on their land in the same county, they definitely don’t have the resources to go to every person breaking the land use laws in the area. Neighbor annoyance aside, we would have likely been fine, it just doesn’t feel too good to be parked where you are not wanted.

This week of chaos at both places was profound, out of our whole year plus of being nomads – I truly felt homeless. Very much a, “you don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here” type situation.

Makes me wonder where the houseless or unconventionally housed will end up in the long term. Cities don’t want us, rural areas don’t want us. That doesn’t leave many options for a vast majority of the unhoused. In the height of my anxiety while waiting here, I wrote a poem that I’m going to share as my next post. It’s going to make you squirm and that’s good.

Hasta luego San Luis, moving our whole dang circus to another part of the state

We bid adieu from those parts two days later for literal greener pastures further west outside of Pagosa Springs. We found a much better situation at Ranchito Alegre, a 120 acre homestead that has been in our host’s family for over a hundred years. Roger is the kind hearted abuelo we didn’t know we needed. He is a wise teacher and has been pouring into the kids in ways I couldn’t have ever imagined with humor, intelligence, grace, and boundless energy for a 75yo. I think the kids fill a hole for him too as it sounds like his own grandkids are often too busy to learn about homesteading the way we are able to in this setting.

So much possibility here, everything is lush and GREEN!

I have become the resident sourdough bread baker after a first batch whet the farmer’s whistle for more, he pulled out his five gallon bucket of flour and I’ve baked four loaves in a week (so far). I’m also painting signs and helping sell his pasture raised whole chickens (which are delicious btw) at the Pagosa farmer’s market. Zach has been learning about the irrigation systems here, cutting wood that the kids gather on the four wheeler, and we’re all getting well versed in the general day to day chores required for such a large operation. We’re sharing most meals together and practicing Spanish everyday, especially the first few days when Roger had family visiting here from Columbia. In our off time, we can tinker away on small bus projects and eventually need to make a run over to Durango for supplies to finish insulating and lumber to actually start building now that we’re safely in one place for awhile.

Zach and I have been sleeping in the bus most of the summer since our big cozy bed is in there, but it’s starting to get colder overnight and snow will be flying before we know it, time to get to work and get some projects knocked out in the coming months ahead. Luckily, there is no shortage of potential work here, and we’ve hopefully convinced Roger to let us stay through the winter as the homestead’s caretakers while he and his soon to be retired wife can do some traveling. I’ll definitely have more to share from this location as we get further immersed in our wwoofing adventure. Just know we are a million times better off in these parts and that we are grateful for every moment we are here.

Cycles of life on this river, the Piedra. Regenerative farming practices. Learning is what wwoofing is all about. Grateful to have found a place to pause and respect the land around us with a wise elder/host/guide.

Guadalupe River State Park

San Antonio, Tx

Winter in Texas means lots of rain

We departed from Marfa on a really chilly and really early morning in order to make it to the San Antonio area before nightfall. We tend to avoid major interstates so our mode of travel is slow and meandering. This was one of our longest travel days in awhile as we tend to break up a long haul over several days but it was less feasible this time with the reservation window we had at the state park on the northwest side of SA.

It stayed chilly and we got socked in a wet weather pattern for most of our stay in San Antonio. This was our first parlay with any moisture since snow in Bryce Canyon NP way back in mid-November. It’s been nice taking the winter off but we were bound to catch some inclement weather sometime. The upside was, of course, no crowds anywhere. We had the run of the one open state park trail and campground pretty much to ourselves. We also got our first experience with some of Texas’s wildlife, armadillos rooting around everywhere, vibrant red cardinals, strange dinosaur-sounding birds that we were never able to identify but certainly heard numerous times. We obtained a Texas State Parks pass for this visit and plan to fully utilize it as long as there are places to stay.

Here’s proof that not ALL armadillo in Texas are dead on the side of the road.

Along with plenty of time in nature, we visited the Alamo and enjoyed exploring the greater San Antonio area, we met up with three former New Denver Church families and spend an evening picnicking with them and catching up.

Our favorite lucky food find was a hole in the wall BBQ joint where we had the best brisket we’d ever tasted. If you’re ever there go to The Station BBQ and have a spiritual experience (if you like meat of course).

We were pleasantly surprised with our mutual enjoyment of this place so we went ahead and extended three more days before departing to Austin. Our visit with our friends also filled the longing for connection we didn’t realize we’d been missing since departing from our new friends in Tucson. This pandemic may change how we interact with one another for a long time into the future but it doesn’t mean we need one another any less. Community remains important even when we’re distant and have to get creative to see each other.