Writing our book spanning 7 years on the road takes me to those past times when the future was so uncertain. As it is today. We never know the day before that day. The contents of this Journal are the photos of this “now” while writing this book and sometimes a few words from this present. It is our magical surrounding. Another month staring at these walls? Or two?
Sample of the photos…
“There is a force in the Universe which, if we permit it, will flow through us and produce miraculous results” ~ Mahatma Gandhi ~
Crazy days, weather wise. Needing the –10 degree sleeping bag at night and a light short sleeve T-shirt by noon. By now, that aspect has also changed as the night and day cold with total gray clouds has been present for three days. My hopes go up seeing the sun feeding our solar power, it is so brief, my hopes are cut off by the clouds seemingly always trying to break them up. Hot, cold, just cold, that is the cycle these days while writing. Not only writing, but reading every single word I have written these past seven years. And, there is a lot. I look at the photos, I take on the meanings expressed within those past times, all amazes me I must say. I am trying to put it all down within 100,000 words at the most. I am not today who I was then, and there comes the difficulty of this personal challenge. I transport myself often to those days. Some are funny, entertaining, and some are a bit sad. They all have Mother Nature’s and Spirit’s company as their common denominator. Life’s complexities stares at me now daily.
I have to keep a story line on paper as to not loose track of where we have been, how similar some days were, who we have met, all those experiences throughout the country and here surrounding The Oasis. This is a season so unlike any we have spent here. We have gone to Alpine a couple times, the same has been for Terlingua, quick in and outs as also some projects are here awaiting for me. One being to clean up in places the rust off Old Faithful, prime and paint. Not for cosmetic purposes, it is too late for that, only so the rust does not eat it her all up.
Writing a book is such a lonely affair I am finding out. Not only being alone here with Spirit, but alone in my thoughts and the time spent on the keyboard. Some days are easy and all flows, some days each sentence is like a hammer not wanting to drop. Best of all however, it is giving me the thirst to get back on the road. Soon. These days are showing me how good of a decision it was when we left in November of 2006. Seemed it was long time ago, yet, it is not. We will be going East this time around. Probably leave here early April and go as far as Florida. Being a Florida resident, “they” want to see me this time around to renew my driver’s license. We will stop in Georgia, our old stomping grounds and see many friends who have also grown as we have. North Carolina, South Carolina, and who knows were else.
I had never realized how badly my grammar is. Not many ever pointed it out. I am actually learning English it seems like. French being my maternal language and to make the matters worse, having majored in 16th Century French Literature which has a total disregard for grammar. Without my good friend and editor as I go along, this book would have been a disaster. Still might be! It is one thing to keep a journal with many errors, another to express it all in 100,000 words or less.
I feel a bit lighter since yesterday as we reached the 70,000 words mark, yet, still in our fourth year. Hard to believe so much has been written in less than two months. I have learned again what discipline throughout a day and evening is like. It was difficult at first as the hours here can fly by without ever noticing their numbers passing by. To think this is the way I lived for a few decades when a watch on my wrist was the most important item I carried on me. One of the most anyhow, besides my knives and all the gadgets necessary for those past 5 Star meals prepared.
These times present feel as an intermission. It is such a personal challenge I have been wanting to accomplish throughout these past years. There is really nothing else new. I had read a while back of a another rider writing his book. His expression “I am holed up” had stayed with me like a an image a bit odd. Now I know what it means as the hours go by, so do the days not going anywhere while pounding this keyboard. We are indeed holed up!
Ara and Spirit