Reflections from Rafting the Rio

Today I rafter the Rio for the first time in my 2+ years of living right by it. Another woman on the trip, who had also lived in Austin before here, also expressed her surprise that most Burquenos' fear the Bosque, the unique stretch of trees and shrubs that create a home for hundreds of animal species, and the inspiration for all of the paddlers along the river today.

This is not my photo, but it slightly reflects the beauty I witnessed today. 

Today, we didn't fear the Bosque. We shook hands under the towering, spotting cottonwoods. We glided through the banks of our modern river, marveling at the ghosts of the old twists and turns, set straight by decades of miss-management. We marveled at the growth of willow, olive and cottonwoods on what used to be a sand bar. We heard from people who have spent decades of their lives studying bends in our river, planting trees on its banks, and comparing it's current CFS to historical currents. We bumped along 1500 CFS, wondering what it was like to paddle it at 300, dodging sandbars, or at 3000, when the raging rio floods some of the newly planted plains.

We watched New Mexico shed her skies like skin, shining her sweet rays of sun upon us, and then scattering some simple drops down upon us.

We dined on a deliciously contrasted meal of fritos and potato salad-- with silverware that was dumped out of a river rat's dry bag, and Perrier bottled water served in metal bowls by the resort who had set out the clothed tables and golden chairs for us. We watched a show of the Sandia's getting showered with sleet and snow, wondering if it would blow back to us, as we sat in the sun, then the shade, and the sun again. The ever changing New Mexico skies doing their passionate dance above us.

First time on a SUP on a river! 9.5 miles.

On my way home, reveling in my fear-conquering and powered by Enya's Boadecia while driving through the leafing grapevines in humble Corrales, I passed a brightly colored parachute waving in the breeze above a sign that read Garage Sale. Three mustashed men with relatively cheery attitudes overheard I was an educator, and gave me a deal on the bright colored parachute for my students, as well as two cute shirts. The guy who offered me $5 for the parachute hesitated when I realized I only had $3 in cash, and the other one said, "George, just smile and take her money." I promised them good Karma in return and the most friendly one yelled back that that was all he needed.

This is my city, my community, my home. These are my people. The desert dwellers along the Rio Grande are a peculiar people. We see beauty in shades of brown. We prepare for rain and snow on days we only get sunshine, and smile through sleet on days that were forcast to be cloudless. We don't pay much attention to forcasts. I've heard a lot of Burque-bashing lately, but today was a reminder of our resiliance. Burquenos are a beautiful people. We live with intention, singing to the plants we put in the ground. We embrace change around every corner, and expect that one day, any day, it might be time to pick up our things, leave many behind, say goodbye to our wilted plants, and make a new place home. But when we do, we will carry the same love and attention to our new communitities.

I'm writing this from my desk overlooking the Sandia's, which just disappeared in a mist. I'm listening to rain drops hit my metal fan, and looking at the Apache Plume flowers standing upright despite the wind. This desert has a certain magic to it, and the people that live here feel that magic. I love that.

Biking, Beauty, and staying Busy in the Burque.

If I had more energy I'd put this to rhyme, but I want to get this on here and get out on time. 

I love hearing little slices of people's lives. I love imagining how other people live, or getting to participate in their lives for a short period of time. I think it offers a lot of perspective for my own life in many ways. 
I also want people to have a greater understanding of where I'm coming from, to see what influences the things I write about. 
Today was such a beautiful day, I wanted to share it with the world. But as I thought back to a starting point...I realized I've had a pretty exciting week, month and year so far. But I don't want to summarize my life to boredom... so I'm just focusing on the last two days. 

Thursday, 12:30am:
I'm closing the creaking gates on the park behind my lover and his friend as they shout "bye" out the window. After some slight tidying up in the house, I crawl into bed. 
6:00am: Rise and Shine! It's workin' time! I snooze. 30ish minutes later, I pull back the covers and begin my morning routine. Bathroom, open the gates, raise the flags, unlock the bathrooms, admire the sunrise, come into the warm house, put the clean dishes away, turn on the radio, dance. Not wanting to commit to a full workout, I did 1 minute max of full-body exercises, from push-ups, to pull ups (on my rings), to sit-ups and dips, etc. I feel it today. 
Bucket bath in the sink and get ready for a day. Contemplate my new fairly professional style of dress, label it "functionality". 

Bike to work. 2 relatively productive hours+ chatting with co-workers
Bike back to park for 2 hours of pruning fruit trees (+ learning how to prune fruit trees) with a group of women in their 40's-60's. 
Grab a lunch and drive to Balloon Museum for a talk about Citizen Science. Appreciate the cadre of outdoor educators present, and that I am familiar and friendly with almost all of them. 
Leave poster session early for a meeting at a chocolate shop with a group of wonderful women. Order a "South Pacific" which is a HUGE, frothy, chocolatey latte, that made me a little sick to my stomach. Spend the next 2 hours creating an 8 day arts-culture-adventure expedition for women. 

Drive back to the office, Catch up with the boss. Work til 8:00. Phone call to friend (my phone service sucks so I use the land line when I can). 
9:40- drive home. Make dinner. Walk to adjacent building with internet to research some things for my upcoming trip. 
11:00ish? Bedtime ritual, sleep. 

...Friday
6:00am: Rise and Shine! Snooze... 6:15, no really, Rise and Shine! 
Bathroom, gates, flags, bathrooms, inside. Stretch and dance. 12 minute workout: 3 rounds of tabata cardio (mountain climbers, burpees and switch kicks). Bucket bath and dress for the day. (I should probably shower at some point this week...) Bike to the office to grab computer and forgotten journal, then to the train station, hoping each minute that the sun will pop over the Sandias. Arrive at train station with 16 minutes to spare, take advantage of wi-fi (again, shitty phone service =utilizing other resources). Train to Santa Fe and enjoy a delightful 1.7 mile downhill ride to my meeting, where I arrive with 20 minutes to spare. Plan a trip for 50 8th graders!
Bike next door to Santa Fe College of Art and Design which was previously the College of Santa Fe, which I had looked at to go to school. Admire the similarities and differences from 10 years ago. 

Bike to Annapurna's for lunch and catching up with a friend, do some work on the side. Realize I have 17 minutes to catch my train. Bust ass back up hill. See the train in the distance. Begin wheezing. Continue busting...soooo clooosee! Bike toward train, to see it slipping away (next train not for 3 more hours). Wave frantically at train as asthma attack (out of breath+emotions= no good) comes on. Train stops. Doors open. I spend the rest of the ride coming down from that, and getting some work done. 

Take the long way to work. Finish by 6:30! Bike home and start dinner (Spaghetti Squash with sauce from leftover soup + "special toast"). Entertain friends at a semi-work-related/catch-up dinner. Friends leave, I come to write this...
Still to be done tonight: cleaning the house, packing my bags!, and sleeping...'cause at 6:45 I'll be on a plane to NYC!

So, other than possibly an overshare of insight into my world... hopefully this paints a picture of possibilities, and a perspective of how we all engage in this world in different ways.