Circus of the Barking Dead, Redux

It is cool, bordering on cold, and after the heat of the day, driving my air-condition-less car, the cool seems unreal. But I know that if I don’t get moving, the cold will sink in and it will be hard to fall asleep with cold feet. I stop looking up at Long’s Peak, still taunting me in the moonlight and heave myself up out of my comfortable folding chair and start walking toward the “comfort station” with my bath bag and towel in hand. There aren’t showers in this campground at Rocky Mountain National Park, but the bathroom has running water and I can wash up with soap a little and brush my teeth.

I stand up and crunch across the dust and gravel of the developed tent site. The amount of dust up here surprises me. I guess the recent rain that we drove through further down the mountain didn’t make it this far. I can hear my girls moving around a little in the tent. I’m surprised at how early they turned in, but I shouldn’t be. The altitude and the start of the wind-down of summer are affecting us all. This will be our last night of camping in a National Park this trip unless I figure out some kind of magic in the Smokies. Then it is back to the summer grind for me, off to writing camp for Jas, and back to the last few weeks of summer for Annie.

The ambient light is enough that I don’t turn anything on to guide my steps. As I turn onto the road and turn my back on the crescent moon, I’m impressed by the number of stars shining down on me. Framed in the center of the clearing between the trees is the big dipper. My hand goes to the front of my right shoulder and I hear Jimmy Buffett singing in my head:

“Permanent reminder of a temporary feeling
Amnesic episodes that never go away
It’s no complex memento, it’s no subtle revealing
Just a permanent reminder of a temporary feeling. . .”
Was it only last December that I got this tattoo? My only and my first. Just a simple outline with dots for the stars of the big dipper, just under my right collarbone. It spills out past the neckline of more shirts than I had intended, but at this stage of the game, catching a glimpse of it peeking out always makes me smile a little. My sister was the instigator- she actually bought it for me as a 45th birthday gift last year and then got her own little dipper on the same day. And now here I am, clomping to the bathhouse halfway across the country from her trying to think when the last time was that we were in the Rockies together. A long time ago, I suppose. I suppose we were younger than my girls are now. How did that happen? We need another sisters’ trip, but it is so hard to choose what to fit into these fast-moving years.

I hope I’ve chosen correctly. I hope I’m picking the priorities this summer that allow my family to rest and rejuvenate enough, but also let all of us enjoy what we are so lucky to have. I’m overly cognizant of the fact that when this summer is done, I’ll really only have two more summers before my kiddos are mostly heading off on their own adventures. Which isn’t a bad thing, but man oh man, this parenting gig is nothing if not constant adjustment and re-evaluation of expectations. Maybe driving my trusty old car from the panhandle of Florida to the coast of Oregon and almost all the way back again over the space of the last two and a half weeks has been too much, but I don’t think so. The car is still running smoothly anyway, even if the air conditioning is kaput again. And I think I will be refreshed at the end of the trip and not just tired.

Drive time can be such good talking time with my girls. Jasper played me a bunch of the music that she enjoys as we came up into the Tetons the other day. We talked about lyrics and styles and controversies with the artists. Then at Grand Teton, we watched a movie about wildlife in the park and the migrations of many of the species that call the park home. They talked about land management and partner agencies, some at the state level, and about the use of conservation easements to keep wildlife corridors functional. The girls both grinned at me before I even had the chance to say “That’s my jam!” It will be good to get back to work, even.

There is an awful lot of craziness happening in this summer of 2024. But I’m full of hope that we’re bringing the memories forward that we need to pave the way to a future that will be good.