Firs and pines closely observe us as we take a self-guided tour through their homeland, strolling slowly, while enjoying occasional granite-hopping. We don’t believe they’re bothered by our company because our vibes of respect are as profound as their whispers of wisdom. The lizards entertain as they run like sprinters in a race across the smooth stone, reaching higher elevations to avoid our footsteps, and of course, their safety is critical. All this we do beneath the brilliant blue canopy of sky – the color of my husband’s eyes. Debris crowds our minds, and our awareness is keen. But the warmth of tranquility pushes aside the mess like whisky leisurely flowing through our bodies. Rough edges of the universe begin to soften in this fairytale land. Then what a view! Beauty in its quietude glistens just for us. No other voices share our space, just the tree-tapping of a woodpecker. Each singular sparkle represents a glimmer of hope for the future. In its golden splendor, the sun smiles and delights in our reverence. An ideal getaway for rejuvenation never to become lackluster.
head-spinning events cause turmoil in heart and mind lake water beckons
Backpacking never entered my mind. When I was a young girl, summers and winters were spent at our cabin in Big Bear, CA. It wasn’t fancy, but cute and cozy nestled among sugar pines on a huge, corner lot. In the summer, we spent time swimming in the lake, but right in our backyard we played badminton, watching those birdies fly over the net. When snow blanketed the ground, we pulled the toboggan out and slid down the hills. Squeals of joy whirled around the trees!
I didn’t learn about pitching a tent until Matt and I met and married in our late twenties (almost 36 years ago). He had already embarked on several backpacking adventures. But the idea never appealed to me, and yet, after he started taking me camping, my love for the outdoors blossomed. I didn’t mind getting dirty or sleeping in a tent. One of my rules, though, was ensuring the tent stayed zipped up so that bugs of all species (especially, spiders) remained outside where they belonged. And of course, Matt didn’t want to sleep with bugs either!
When our daughter and son each turned one year old, they became our little campers. Was it easy? Not in the least with packing a highchair, port-o-crib, diapers, etc., but looking back at those precious photos makes the hassle worthwhile. Their imaginations ran wild as they played around the campsites, and it was special to witness. Matt felt they were old enough to backpack when our daughter was seven and our son was four. At the very mention of the idea to them, their excitement bounced off the walls! They were eager to get a pack on their back and hike on the trail like daddy!
“Young Campers”
They amble through the African savannah, eyes alert, keeping watch for big animals seeking out their next meal. But their excitement soars because they want to see the beautiful creatures. Suddenly, a thunder-booming growl echoes throughout the grassland! Their feet become blocks of cement, stopping in their tracks, as fear creeps up their necks! Terror escalates as they hold their breath! Legs shake like trees from an angry gust of wind. Any sound could be the end!
Then Mom yells, “Lunch is ready!” Fear subsides, and their adventure halts.
Until tomorrow … when their imaginations come alive again.
(From my book, Ever So Gently)
So, the tradition began and continued for several years, taking them to the Sierra mountains, and locally, Point Reyes National Seashore. During these times when my family was away, I’d get together with some girlfriends for a ‘girl’ weekend. It was a win-win! Now as adults, they thank their dad for showing them the beauty of the wilderness and for those wonderful memories.
Then one morning in my mid-fifties, I woke up with an epiphany! I was ready to backpack! I wanted to write stories from my own experiences. I loved listening to Matt’s tales with the kids, but the desire escalated to get a pack on my back. Matt was elated that his wife would join him on the trail! We soon headed for the Sierra Mountains, several years in a row. Up and down hills, carrying that pack, wearing the sunhat, using walking sticks when needed. There was always a lake to fall into once we had discarded the pack and set up our wilderness home. And there is something surreal and profound about carrying all you need on your back. What an experience! The shimmering lakes, trails, nature surrounding us with her critters and sounds, vivid sunsets, and oh, the memories made!
Our first trip to Shealor Lake– one of my favorite photos!
Heading to Spider Lake, 5 miles up hill, and no spiders were seen on this trip.
Matt in the moment with all the gear!
One of many miracles we witnessed!
After reading the book, Wild, by Cheryl Strayed, and then watching the movie starring Reese Witherspoon, a dream of hiking on the Pacific Crest Trail wiggled its way into my mind. This dream has been diligent in holding its place until I make it a reality. We haven’t hiked the PCT, yet, because returning to our favorite lake each year seemed to have had a magnetic effect. But now in our early sixties, the dream still wiggles! Are we too old? From what I’ve read, people of all ages hike in general, let alone, hike the PCT, so we’re not old at all. But in spring of last year, my health took a turn…
I wasn’t able to walk two houses down our block without pain. It’s been a challenging year, but the reader’s digest version is that I’m doing much better! Since the spring, I’ve been able to hike again pain-free. Thus, my recovery and learning how to manage an incurable but treatable diagnosis has woken up my dream from a long repose. One caveat from my doctor is that bearing weight on my back as in wearing a backpack isn’t advisable. However, to remedy this, Matt would carry more, but we’d both really pare down to go lighter than in past years. And a side-note…I don’t care about the distance I hike on the PCT, whether it’s one, two, or twenty miles – I just want to be able to say, “I hiked the PCT!” Consequently, we’re gearing up for 2026! I only pray that good health sustains for both of us to bring this dream to fruition.
From the web. It’s good to keep a visual for perspective and motivation.
“If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.” ~ Henry David Thoreau
Have you backpacked? What’s on your bucket list?
CHEERS TO DREAMS, BUCKET LISTS, AND TO GETTING ON THE TRAIL! 🥾❤️😁
For those of you who have followed me through this series, I’m so grateful. But what makes me happy is that you’ve enjoyed the journey with Clay the Camper van at our favorite lake in the Sierra Mountains. I’m sure you can tell that each piece of writing is different from the last because I don’t want your eyes glazing over from repetition. 😁 And if you’ve missed the prior posts, you can click below:
On one of our hikes, as I made myself comfortable on a smooth slab of granite (Part 3), I fell deep into a lovely reflection about the man who I’m sharing this camper van journey with, not to mention, the phenomenal journey of life. And so, the poem below evolved. I hope you enjoythis touch of romance for a Monday…
Stunning marriage of lake and clouds.
Marinate
Let my words marinate… Did you feel unworthy of being loved? Maybe I felt the same. Perhaps, everyone does at some turn of the sun and waxing of the moon.
But you, my love, are deserving of all constellations. I’d reach high in the velvet sky and gently cup the brilliance in my hands, devoting all to you. The light in you coupled with their luminescence would be a spectacular collaboration.
We are not perfect. We are imperfectly perfect for each other. We ‘see’ each other. Never are we dismissed by words or actions. Never are we invisible like shade in the night.
Did you realize that together we have witnessed 13,140 sunrises and sunsets? It’s wild to envision the abundance of colors in our life!
Oh, gray managed to seep into some chapters, but our arms saved each of us from falling and surrendering. Why give darkness the spotlight when the light wishes to shine?
So, let my words marinate… I love you! Our love is as timeless as the pairing of wine and cheese. And I’m excited to witness by your side the wonder of more magic from the sun!
For with you, I have everything I need. I have no need to look beyond. For with you, I have won the golden ticket. ❤️
On of our hikes, we discovered a pond, and a fun poem came to mind for Part 2 in my camper van adventure series. If you missed Part 1, you can read it here. Enjoy!
Mr. Frog
I wonder if a frog lives in that pond or a family of three or even beyond.
A green meadow surrounds with evenings of hoots – an enchanting location to plant their roots.
With each step of silence I’m quiet as can be. Mr. Frog, please show your wide eyes to me.
When I was five I found a frog as big as a football but not huge like a hog.
I named him Sam, a fine name for him, but it was a tossup between Sam and Tim.
Now you know the reason I simply love frogs as much as my heart loves all breeds of dogs.
And this is why I wish Mr. Frog would pop up soon to bid me the finest day, and tonight, the brightest moon!
Meet the frog that I named Sam made by my mom when I was a little girl. He is comprised oflove, corduroy, and beans.
I hope you all had a great week and are doing well!We had a wonderful time in the wilderness, and in such a beautiful area, I became so inspired that ideas for poems and stories flooded in. I couldn’t write them down in my journal fast enough. This is why I thought it would be fun to create a series of posts about our trip. I’ll share my writing and add some photos. I’m not sure how many ‘parts’ will comprise this series. I’ll let it happen organically. So, below is a short story I wrote to kick off this string of posts, and I hope you enjoy!
Three Nights in a Van
She told my husband and I that it was a queen mattress, but it sure looked like a queen wannabe. We didn’t think it would result in a restful night’s sleep for either of us, but we were pleasantly surprised to snuggle into each other and fit more comfortably than sardines in a can! What an illusion!
For over three decades, we’ve pitched tents, used pit toilets (reluctantly), carried packs on our backs, and dug holes for when mother nature called. Now in our seventh decade, we’ve seen many camper vans on the road, instantly intriguing us.
What if we could pull into our campsite in the great outdoors, knowing that our wilderness home was already set up?
The concept of not having to loop or hook tent poles, hoping the tent would pop up like magic, admittedly, entertained the wheels turning in our minds.
So, after numerous conversations and the right time presenting itself, we finally did it! Just last week, our new adventure in the Sierra Mountains began in a rented Mercedes Benz Sprinter van named Clay. That’s right, the owner names his rental vans, and we chose Clay for the best layout. The name not only fit because of its light tan color, but its earthy tone blended in perfectly with the organic earth, granite, lake, and pine trees – the landscape that called us.
Clay, the camper van!
For our first experience, we agreed that three nights and four days would be long enough to become initiated into this somewhat nomad lifestyle. As we began packing, storage was not a problem in Clay. In fact, it was like entering into a huge walk-in closet! Ample space for all of the gear we wanted to bring with room to spare!
The driver and passenger seats swiveled for a living room effect, and a table could be set up in between. These features were appreciated when on one day, Mother Nature became irritable tossing around 40-50 mph winds. Besides hiking around camp and the surrounding forested area, we planned to spend time sitting at the picnic table or in our camp chairs on the shore of the stunning lake. Reading books and magazines, writing in my journal, and playing card games were on our agenda. Well, the gusts wouldn’t allow us to partake in any of these relaxing activities. Pages in books would flip faster than we could read, and cards would take flight with the birds!
Cheers!
Despite the unexpected (always expect the unexpected in the mountains), a great option was to utilize the van. So, we were in and out of Clay for the entire day with occasional hikes to stretch our legs and move our bodies. Being sequestered in the van, though, was more comfortable than being stuck in the tent sitting on the bed. When happy hour arrived, we enjoyed the shelter from the gusts while sipping Chardonnay and Pinot Noir. And the high point was when my husband looked at me and said, “Honey, just being with you is a pleasure.” Even after thirty-five years, he’s still got it!
Let’s backpedal a bit…the day we toured the van was the day we decided to rent it. Spontaneity at its finest! We went home and completed the online application and paid the fees. A few hours later, we returned to pick up Clay. The woman who gave us the tour, provided a crash course on the technology inside the van and placed the key fob in my husband’s hand. Did I mention ‘crash course?’ A variety of buttons for this and that! But her instructions were logical, and our memories kicked in with success.
Clay came with an inside shower and sink for running water. Both great features, especially the shower, even when we’re able to swim in fresh water. Oh, the comforts of home while camping!
Our cozy wine bar!
Decades ago, when we began camping together, cell phones didn’t exist. Of course, nowadays cell phones may as well be another limb! And yet, when we embark into the wilderness, whether with a tent or a camper van, we look forward to unplugging. The only music we enjoy listening to are the melodies of nature: birdsong, and caws and hoots from high in the pines! We set foot on the trail, soaking in the scenery, submerging ourselves in the refreshing lake water, letting our minds engage into compelling paperbacks, while simply enjoying the quietude and each other’s company. However, cell phones come in handy for taking photos, keeping family updated, and in the event of an emergency. Luckily, an emergency didn’t occur, and we brought our Spot satellite as a backup. Smart to be prepared!
See what I mean? Gorgeous! Morning hike and look what we found!
A side note about soaking up the scenery…while reveling in that first cup of coffee one morning, my husband looked up at the nearest pine and saw something big! Was it a bear? After our eyes zeroed in, the white face of a bald eagle came into focus! We were amazed! We had never been so close to a bird of this majesty! I managed to get a few photos, but you’ll have to look closely. Seconds later, it took off in flight with a wingspan of around seven feet. I tried to capture the moment, but my fingers couldn’t move fast enough. So, we watched as it faded in the distance. What a memorable sighting!
This beauty is sitting near the trunk towards the top! Look for its white face!
When the last day arrived and our gear was packed in the van, our bodies and souls thanked us, feeling rested and revitalized. Clay, the camper van, had done a fantastic job of delivering an adventure and experience full of beauty, ruggedness, comfort, and good company.
Do you ever get tired of sunsets?We met some friendly campers.
Spending time in the mountains offers a sense of freedom from the debris in our minds, allowing tranquil moments to fill up the days and evenings. The stunning sunrises and sunsets made perfect bookends from the moment we sipped our good morning coffee to when our heads touched our soft pillows.
Reflection…
We look forward to getting on the road again, waking to the beautiful sun rising over the mountains, hiking the trails, dipping more than our toes in the magic of the lake, and witnessing the spectacular moon in the darkened sky as she bids us a peaceful ‘Good night.’
Thanks for stopping by, and I hope you enjoyed the Sierra Mountains through my words and photos. Stay tuned for Part 2! I look forward to reading your posts again, too! ~ Lauren ❤️
If you’ve followed my story, you know that I’ve been dealing with health changes in the last year. And so, the trials commenced figuring out how to manage the pain while maintaining some sense of normalcy in my daily routines. In the beginning, I couldn’t walk long distances. I felt like this basic activity was taken away from me, which was tough to accept. I missed hiking. Well, in February, I had an epidural in my lower back (recommended treatment). Talk about miracles! So, recently, I went on ‘my first hike in the last year’ with my husband. I was able to hike at a moderate clip, and it felt so good to be on the trail again! We went to one of our favorite places, Deer Park, and of course, I had to take photos to document this incredible day where I hiked two miles without pain! I hope you enjoy the pics, and is there ever a time when Nature doesn’t inspire poetry? I don’t think so! These poems are written in Shadorma form!
Forest
Is it so that some believe the forest is not alive? We are all living creatures communicating.
Fascination
Standing tall with architecture to showcase, passersby drop jaws in fascination – one of nature’s gifts.
California Bay
Swinging
Stretch the legs pump with all our might back and forth swinging high while California Bay peeks with utter delight
SmileA new friend
Picnic Table memories
Two buddies slightly underaged ignore signs (no malice) they chug beer and chew the fat, officer stops by.
On the trail again!
Trees
A network of fungi grows deep in the roots, Wood Wide Web is the label given for interconnection.
Thank you for joining us on this memorable hike! I’m still doing well, and it’s good to feel good!
Lastly, today is the final day to vote for Nomination of the Month at Spillwords Press! If you missed it, here is my prior post. “Resilience is Her Saving Grace” is my first fiction short story to be published at Spillwords, so this nomination really means a lot, but especially for the vital message it conveys regarding abusive relationships. I am including the story below if you haven’t read it.
Resilience is Her Saving Grace
The tempest held its vigil on the horizon but continued to fool her. Devotion in his eyes mesmerized her whole being, awakened every pulse in her body. Eyes that spoke the language of love where their future glowed like an apricot dawn. She bestowed her heart permission to be swept into his pools of blue…
And yet, every day she anticipates the sting from his hand – the palm or back, makes no difference. The sting smarts like hell, but her heart secures the brunt of the damage. The slaps begin early each morning if she doesn’t move fast enough to appease his caffeine demands. And it’s ironic that he chose ‘chalet’ for his cell alarm because the calming tone contrasts to his horrific demeanor. After he walks through the front door following a day’s work, if she so much as smiles unknowingly to his disliking, his hand finds her cheek, and she feels the strike of skin even before impact. 5 p.m. on the mantel clock makes her heart pound as though trying to make a getaway.
The house that once was a home mirrors a prison. Cameras keep their eyes on her as he watches from his downtown office. Claustrophobia slithers down her spine. She struggles to quell the panic attacks. And her cell is meant only to reach him or to answer his calls. He tracks her like a wild animal. The ring on her finger stole all contact from the outside world – lost like a loved one’s passing. Grieving has no end, but she doesn’t dare misbehave because the pain is relentless.
She recalls the beautiful moments when his hands would send tingles from her neck down the map of her body. What did I do wrong? consumed her every thought when he transformed from loving husband to beast. Thoughts that became so tangled, she couldn’t ruminate until the truth stared her in the face. Her cheeks grew hot like asphalt in August from the realization that the monster had always existed.
Before the perfect couple whispered those two celebrated words on that breezy afternoon, signifying “You are my forever person,” he wore charm impeccably like a well-pressed dress shirt – his kisses intoxicating as jasmine, gentle like summer rain – respect enfolded in each embrace. Then donning satin and lace, the solitaire sparkled like her heart and soul, but true personas can take cover behind convincing eyes and smiles.
How could she have missed the signs? She ponders over and over.
Time – revelations, decisions, and strategies always take time. Her defense, submission, though she loathes appearing weak, and the agony tests her strength. But the path will wend its way, leading her to a door for a fresh start, caressing her bruised face and her body, his punching bag.
Gazing out the window, she watches courage whirl among the cottony clouds. Around the corner, freedom waits with intensity, as though motioning for her to come closer, excited for her new, safe beginning. She witnesses a glimpse of hope in the pink daisy pushing through the crack in the sidewalk.
But biding her time means life, and staying alive is her objective. She must bleed toughly. Resilience is her saving grace and not meant to be scattered on the floor, anymore. She must be smart to be free.
If you haven’t voted yet, I’m asking for your support, and here is the link to cast your vote: https://spillwords.com/vote/
Thank you again to Dagmara and her team at Spillwords for allowing my writing to reach so many readers. I am grateful beyond words! Not to mention, standing beside the other fabulous nominees! And a Huge Thanks to you who have already voted! Your support means the world to me!
Thanks so much for stopping by my neck of the woods, and I hope you enjoyed the beauty of nature, along with the significance of perseverance!
I hope you all had a great week!Hubby and I had a wonderful time at our favorite lake. It felt good to unplug, to just be together, to read, and enjoy good wine and coffee along with the stunning views and tranquility. We also did some light hiking and walking around, but with each step, I was mindful of where my right foot landed. And gratefully, I had zero pain.
For those of you who tent camp, you know what the adventure entails. The experience is relaxing once the ‘wilderness home’ is set up, but until then, it takes a lot of effort. We were lucky to reserve our favorite site that offered a short walk down to the lake.And though the weather report didn’t indicate rain, several thunderstorms entertained when light rain turned into downpours! But we stayed dry under the easy-up and our backpacking tent kept the deluge of rain from seeping into our sleeping bags and clothes. In the mornings, when the days looked like they’d be glorious, I stole a few moments, sitting by the shore, jotting down thoughts in my journal. But I don’t have anything completed, so I’m sharing photos for now:
“The mountains are calling and I must go.” ~John Muir
stunning lake
coffee time
fire and sky
awesome Jetboil and sample of delicious backpacking food – we kept things simple so we could enjoy more and work less
ambience
there is no such thing as too many sunset photos
stealing a hug (and kiss) while witnessing another gorgeous sunset
lake view from campsite
beautiful blues and greens on the north side of the lake
organic landscape along the trail
too cute
lots of bumblebees around – these are a little blurry
kayaker sunset
beautiful sky
silly, silly selfie
light rain before the storm
I hope you enjoyed these photos; they’re only a fraction of what I took. 🙂
If you enjoy ruminating over life’s rewards and mysteries, my latest book, Ever So Gently, a collection of poems, is available for purchase by clicking on the image below:
Thanks for stopping by, and I look forward to reading your posts again. ~Lauren ❤️
Baydreamer Writes ~ Lauren Scott, Author 