Dirt Baggery in the desertPt. 1

(Sitting on the patio of a charming and eclectic cafe. The bathroom has running water with soap and lotion, of all things! Oh the luxury! I'm on day four of sleeping either in a tent or my car - well no not my car, but a car, from Lusk - day four with no shower, but I like to put a positive spin on it: Day four of sponge baths, Day four of dirt baggery...I've taken to wearing a kerchief tied around my hair when I'm around other people. My face is perpetually reddened either from cold or from sun and wind burn from four straight days spent outside.

The next few posts will be a most likely disorganized, not comprehensive account of the days following the previous post, 37 miles from Nowhere)

An excerpt from my journal from 04/06/14:

Trying to write while wearing snowboarding gloves doesn't work so I took them off.

I'm sitting on the ledge by my camp, watching the storm move across the Book Cliffs and reviewing notes from the previous couple of days.

It's still chilly this morning, and no sun, but at least the wind finally let up so it's bearable. A tumbler of Puerto Rico coffee quickly cools beside me on the rock before I can drink it. Hard to keep anything warm against these chill mornings.

Upon crawling from my sleeping bag - oh warm and cozy cocoon - or rather as each part of my body emerges I incrementally layer up: Stocking cap, puffy down jacket - which is like going from one sleeping bag to another - pants over long johns, shoes over wool socks. Glasses fog up. Next I exit the semi-warmth of the tent to check the weather: cold, but last night's wind has relented. And then I look to my right to check the status of the storm over the mountains across the valley: Isolated storm appears to still rage on over there, but moving east.

There sure are dramatic skies here.

I make coffee, boiling water in the Jetboil - the starter doesn't work, so I use a lighter flick flick PWOOF - and then pour the readied water over coffee grounds in a french press.

(The storm continues to move east, then there's a break with scattered bits of sun flickering through onto the cliffs, then another storm coming in from the north).

My hand is getting too stiff and cold to write. About time to make oatmeal, clean and ready Blue for the day and head down into town.

(edited out: boring notes from yesterday's lesson)

Bits of rain are spitting down. My bottom and legs are cold from sitting on this rock. I wish I could tell about the trees and shrubs all around but I don't know what they are, except there is sage, although a different kind than I'm used to. I can smell it - pungent and spicy.

The storm from the north has not followed the mountains but has headed my way and reached me wait that's not rain that's snow.

And that's the way it was this morning.