Waking with Steph and unwrapping her is a privilege.
On this morning I arose early to seek solitude and make coffee, of course. For her, the night before was peaceful, but I was awake most of the night. There were several predawn interruptions. The hippies in the area were tripping hard. This year’s visit was visitor sparse at best as many roads were closed, prohibiting the usual lot at Warm Springs. Still, those who made it in time made the best of it–tripping like mad. At two A.M., there was “FUCK YOU RICHARD, I’M LEAVING. NEVER AGAIN!” Followed by much wailing and chaos. And, that was just the start of it. There were children involved, which, if you ask me, is a shame. When the tripping parent lost her mind, the kids panicked and started screaming, too, trying to figure out just what the hell was going on. Kids can’t grok this kind of drug fueled madness. Parents, please keep it together and don’t trip around your kids, even if you are in the middle of the desert and nobody is there to stop you.
The senseless screaming continued for a few hours. The kids involved where a big part of the din. Forced me to reflect on my own parenting efforts. And, after making it through all the nonsense and emerging at another dawn–in the desert–I felt proud. My kids peacefully fell asleep playing chess in our tent and telling adventure stories to each other.
I was up before the Sun, and I couldn’t see any other movement in the camp. I cranked on the propane and started boiling the water required for a dark, dark cup-o-joe.
And then, Stephanie awakened. Followed by Jolene. And, we were all happy.
I love these trips.
