Live Your Adventure *extremely rough draft*

A note to the reader: The following is an extremely rough draft.

I share this story in this state because I believe there is magic in the process. So often we want to be smooth and polished, but we do not recognize the effort it takes for this to happen.

Because this is my story, I want to share the entire process, warts and all. Because it is hard to publish, but it is easy to write.

Writing is an expression of self. If we get to focused on the technicalities of written word, we miss the meaning and the beauty it holds.

Adventure Log: March 23, 2023 - Mossy Waterfall, Big Oak Flat, CA

Coming from Yosemite into the Valley felt like driving on Peninsula highways around Olympic. The clouds hovered around the mountain peaks and settled down into the valley and onto the roads. The rain provided enough moisture to see far enough in front of you to appreciate the view.

I was going to see a possible place to stay in MC, my RV “Moving Castle.” It was a small community, a little rough around the edges, but with a lot of heart. I was sold before I got to the yellow building with the blue door that acted as the office. Though one may look at the place and wonder what was lurking inside, the proud man that met me with an attitude of we are here and we are trying. We know who lives here and tries to make the best of what we have.

I love this mentality. It is why I am here and what I work for. I may not have a lot, but what I do have is spirit. This is a community that needs a little spirit right now. I read John Muir’s words about this area and feel the poetic he spoke. However the maps are outdated. What Muir would have thought about the progress within the park and how people flock to it, we can only wonder. What I can share is how I feel walking in these places. There is an energy in town and there is an energy in the woods.

Is the tree heard even if no one is there with ears. Yes, because she impacts all of us. We think one tree, one thought, one song can’t be enough. But that is where we are wrong. It is enough. You are enough. And adventures like this help me remember why I do what I do and that one person is enough to change an area for good. If not me, who? If not now, when?

Come explore a creek waterfall with me. The falls in Yosemite are awe-inspiring. But these little access points to the wild nature are enough to fill my soul.

Going from the big town back to my place in the woods, you have to go up this road called “Priest Grade,” an eight mile and 2000ft gain up winding mountain roads with steep slopes and fantastical views. This can be a dangerous place, but with awareness you can navigate it with confidence. When you can do this, you can witness an amazing view of nature along the mountain tops.

Along this winding slope are run offs for water. Some of these are impressions of what could be, but with the large amount of rain we’ve gotten in the last month and a half, these slopes change under the persistent flow of water coming from on high the the lowest point through the path of least resistance.

I strive to be like water, flowing through my present knowing I have what it takes to digest the past and adapt to the future.

I pulled off the road in a manner that I wish were more elegant. In fact, I all must missed the spot doubting whether that was it. The perspective was different coming from a different direction. So in my hesitation, I stalled my car going up the grade. A very nice CalTrans driver paused around the corner after witnessing my debacle and made sure I safely got going again. For me that was to back into a turn out in the road where rock from the cliffs had fallen off in the rain and snow. My only regret was that I would have parked closer to the mountainside and away from the road. Not that I really thought anything would happen, nor did it. But there was a moment of doubt while on my adventure that could have easily been avoided if I had acted to this future thought. This is one of those next time kind of thoughts. And I kept going.

First I had to step through the magical door of the wild. I walked up to the covert that put the water through the road and then looked up at the stream about 40 feet above me, as if coming out of three different stories of the earth.

I walk close to the water and take a few minutes to breathe it in.

I leave the bustle of big town behind me and look forward to realigning myself with the woods again.

As I feel the water flow I look towards the source and want to draw closer. I begin to walk along the water’s edge. The terrain is steep in a few places, but with sufficient room for error in foot placement so I transverse easily along the soil covered in leaves and the granite blocks striking into the water’s path.

These granite folds are what is left after a lifetime of soil being eroded from these seasonal falls. Granite is a strong rock that takes time and persistence to wear down. Yosemite is full of this hardened rock made in a prehistoric time. I love watching the water dance off of these shear perches as it cascades down its natural path.

I come to the first fall, small compared to the two upper falls. It is a gentle slope allowing the water to pool and moss to grow around the edges. This green blanket warmed my heart and reminded me of the misty morning on the mountains and knowing that is the environment this lichen grows the best.

With a smile on my face, I continue to move forward, up the vertical slope. There are natural hand holds, even a pipe that is left thought not connected to anything I could discern. The fall would have been a slight annoyance in most places and never did I fear for myself, though I may fear others who do not know how to follow the path of nature. Though it can be taught.

I walk with my feet parallel to the slope. That way if I do slip, I have the most traction to only go a very short way. By giving myself control over the elements in a way that is secure and prepares me for my next move. In this way I continue forward and make it to the next back on the second fall.

This middle path was steeper and the water concentrated further away from my perch. I could have gone closer, but I instead wanted to continue up.

Once I reached the highest perch, I sat for a while. I could have kept going up. I saw two acceptable paths to take. If I were will someone else maybe I would have. Explorations can expand greatly with two. However on this day, when I was heading home with groceries in my car at the end of the road. I remembered that this is why I am here. I looked back to the water falling over the hard granite stone toward a path that reaches the horizon. I remembered that it’s okay. I am okay. And this is the pace at which I want to go. The steady flow of the water. Always changing from time to time on the scale of a calender, but by the tick of a watch feels very confident and inspires me to do anything.

Except that I don’t want to do “anything.” I want to reach people. I want to think about this crazy ride we are on in life and how it connects to the cosmos. I miss the philosophers like Carl Sagan. Thankfully we have Neil DeGrasse Tyson. I love learning about Galielo, Newton, and Seneca. I enjoy trying to understand our place as humans in the greater universe.

I’m watching this PBS documentary right now about Native America. The one theme that stands out in this culture of the land is that we always have an eye on the sky. To know when the seasons change so we can too change. To know the stars so you were prepared to plant and to harvest and to conserve and to go all in.

In today’s society we are not given a place holder for rest. The expectation is to go and go and go. I am here to say that is unsustainable. We must recharge just like the nature around us. The land goes in cycles, so do the animals, so do the plants. We are a part of this cycle. Acknowledging that will help us go very far.

We have an understanding of the cycles we live in. That is how we are able to be so sophisticated as people. But to what end are we trying to control our environments? I have tried to control mine and it hurt a lot to always need to keep up with the artificial speed of life. I move at a slower pace. I’ve always said my processor runs a little slow. I see now that it does. I move with the flow of the earth. This is by the seasons and in tune with the weather.

This winter has been one of resilience. I have been pushed out of my comfort zone by the gentle hand of Mother Nature. I accept her lessons and have learned great things in this darkness. One of my greatest lessons is that my strength comes from community.

I can do anything, but I need not do it alone. I have many strengths. I am great at listening to people. I am great at looking for the silver lining and the lesson. I am great at telling stories and sharing experiences. I am not great at holding lots of information in my head. I am not great and making estimates without time to calculate possibilities. I am not great at keeping mechanical things running. I am learning how to do all of these things. However, there are times where I need to phone a friend and that is okay.

What I am learning in my work and by visiting this mobile community, is that we all need community. Someone to understand us. We all have gifts and are in places for a purpose. I am here for a purpose and I’m getting really excited about figuring out what that is. I think it is just to be. To do my job, to write, to share, and to move at a confident pace of the earth.

I think about all of this as I’m perched at the top falls of what I have named “Mossy Falls.” This is what I love about these adventures. That moment when I feel myself take a deep breath and realize that all of those things I’m worried about aren’t what’s important in life. Yes, all of those tasks help make what’s important happen. But at the end of the day, if I feel good about what I am doing and am able to have this moments of enthusiasm and joy, then it is all worth it and I will do whatever it takes to make it work. Then I have faith that the universe will meet me halfway. Then I open myself for the people who want to help other people and I make new friends everywhere I go.

I take more pictures than I need to and look out over the horizon between the mountain peaks and breath in a contented breath and exhale a determination to continue on this unconventional life of the wild.

Taking a few moments on my commute home changes my entire outlook on life. Instead of having to get to the next moment as fast as I can, I take time to stop and sit by a waterfall. It’s like stopping to smell the flowers. A moment of nature to reset your inner clock can do wonders for anxiety, especially those who like me have anxiety over time.

I’ve sectioned the day off in chunks to allow for a natural rhythms to my days. I have morning time, afternoon time, and evening time. Night time is for sleep because sleep is sacred. If I have an appointment, I make sure there is a fixed point within that time chunk. My meeting with my potential landlord was at ten o’clock in the morning, so that is precisely when I arrived. However, the rest of my day was open as long as I go home for the evening time. I went into the big town, another forty-five minute commute, and got groceries and then came on a different loop back. It was fun to make a big circle around the greater area for my first venture off the mountain since I got there over a month ago.

It was on the way up that I stopped for my Mossy Waterfall adventure. Now that I was in the peak of that adventure, I needed to begin to start back. To every summit, there must be a decline. That is the way of life.

I was reluctant to go back down this mountain. I was enjoying the view. I was enjoying my thoughts. I felt good about myself. Now I had to go back and face all of the uncertainties and distractions all over again. It is easier to be on the mountain that in the life of society. I longed to stay, but I knew I must go. I took a deep breath and thanked the mossy falls for being here. Then I turned my momentum downward and began to go back towards the road.

Walking back from an out and back explore is like going backwards through the closet from Narnia. You see everything you saw before but from a different perspective. Much like almost missing this grove to begin with because it looked different comes back that it did going forward.

I felt my ankles tire on the slanted slopes. Though still careful, I followed my steps. Since I didn’t have to make a new path, I put more pressure on my ankles my moving efficiently instead of the initial slow intentional pace.

I stopped as I stepped over the gloves again signifying I was not the only one to transverse this path. I imagine I am one of many. However, leave no trace is the best way to be. Still, I feel for you and your missing glove. I left it there in case you come back for it. If you don’t then it will possibly become part of the landscape. This is one way humans and nature interact. We leave our trash for her to deal with.

In this moment, I look over to the second falls and I consider her again. She is much more insistent to get to her next spot here. The slopes area steep for the water to flow, yet still there is greenery here and beauty to behold. After a few minutes I go back down to the gentle flow of the first fall.

Here I stop again and consider the mosses. I love the contrast between the green and gray. Much like the colors I wear for the National Park Service, these are the colors of mother nature herself here in Yosemite. She can be bright and bold, but underneath the erosion of time, she is green and gray, a strong, beautiful palette.

With a final breath and thank you to Mossy Falls, I follow the path back to the car with the tasks and distractions, but now with a confidence that I can do those things. I can find a way through all of the noise to focus on something to move forward. For me, that is a story. What are you supposed to get out of this? I don’t know exactly. I can tell you what I get out of writing it. I am able to remember a moment that I can look back on where I felt confident and powerful. I felt like I could do the things that I needed to do. I could also discern the difference between a want and a need and the important from the noise.

I can’t tell you what those things are for you. You must invite silence and introspection to find those things within yourself. I can only share my experience through an authentic account of my experiences and thoughts. I am not right, nor am I wrong. I believe we try to do the best we can with what we have. All of our uniqueness is a benefit because it is through community that we really shine.

These moments in the wild helps me remember why I live. I am here to love: others, myself, the earth. I share this adventure and vulnerability because I believe that what we need in this world right now is a spirit of life. Let’s sing, let’s dance, let’s play, let’s pray. This is the only life we have. Let’s make it feel bright.

I sit here now with sore ankles and type about how much I love life and this amazing world around me. I drink coffee and still wonder if any of it matters. Who am I to say these things and compare myself to John Muir. All I know is that I can’t keep it all in anymore. It is bursting to come out and I am ready to shout from the mountain tops. The mountains called, I am here, and now the world is going to know about it!

In the times of darkness, I come back to these words and remember why I want to keep going, why I want to climb higher, why I want to shine bright. It helps me keep going. My hope is that you too can find courage in these words to live a life that you love. Whatever that looks like to you. My hope is that you find a little wild wherever you are, even if it is only in your imagination.

Our stories are what make us who we are. It is how we view the world. It is the place we respond from. Take time to read some of your own stories and see how you feel about them. I hope you feel good and inspired. If you don’t, you have the ability to write a new story. The perspective of where you are going up or coming down is completely up to you. Even as I go down the mountain, I am moving towards a whole new adventure. I can feel as liberated with my feet up as I can in the trenches. You have the power to bring your most authentic self to each moment. Give it all you have. And then do the same for the next moment. Rest when you need it. Hold your boundaries. Set intentions. And live. Live your adventure.

Peace! Anda