To Kalispell

I've arrived in Kalispell. I left Karen, Steve and the little ones early this morning. Karen's mother Suzanne drove me to Portland airport whcih was lovely. She gave me a cucumber just picked from her garden and Karen sent me off with homemade musli in a tuperwear box. I'd got up early to savour the last morning under the fresh bit sky and some damn fine coffee. Some kind of bird of prey, eagle or vulture - they have both and I didn't see it long enough to I.D., caught it's epic wing span in the deep yellow golden sunlight like some bold mythical thing. A great send off. I was sorry to say goodbye to Rowan and Amelia but they'll be in the UK for Christmas. In the short week I've been there I've watched Amelia's face come into focus the way small babys do, like watching a photo develop.

The journey was via Seattle on a tiny, propeller driven place. I counted 9 or 10 rows. I sat by the window but the clouds were obscuring the views of the mountains. I'd already seen Mt Hood shrouded in haze from fires. Mt St Helen I'd seen previously as it's near the house, it looks like a Japanese wood block print. Traveling with the hat is a practice in it's own right. It was too large to go in the overhead locker so I had it on my lap and tried not to dent it with the huge edition of US Vogue I'd bought. There was a three hour lay over in Seattle, time for a big chowder lunch and lots of wondering around shops, then off on a marginally bigger plane to Kalispell.

We flew over the mountains east of Seattle then the rectangular crop fields of Idaho, then more mountains spotted with tourquoise lakes every now and then before the haze of smoke and Montana. They've had really bad fires, and the smoke has got particularly severe in the last few days according to Jim the taxi driver who collected me from the airport. A guy on the plane who looked like he knew a thing or two reckoned the fires wouldn't stop until the snows later in the year. He had a great shirt on covered with horses and and a face with lines that also spoke weather and horses. I got to the hotel, the Grand and noted it's very conveniently beside Western Outfitters. Bingo. Lets go shopping.

French toast and PB & J

Today is my last day with Karen and Steve before traveling to Kalispell tomorrow.
Rowan and I picked apples with his Mum as well as some blackberries. These were to go with the french toast (eggy bread) that we had WITH butter, WITH fruit. WITH yogurt AND with maple syrup. Awesome. As was the PB and J we had yesterday - peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (made with last years blackberries).

THE hat

Kitchen Yoga

Karen does a couple of Post-partum Bakasanas and Pincmyurasanas for the first time since having Amelia.

Lots of Dog pose a-go-go

OK, I know, I know pull tail bone in.

Wiggle bumasana

Cool tractors and kitchen cuddles

Steve and Rowan water trees.

Amelia and me.

Alt I.D.

Yesterday I was asked for I.D. when buying alcohol in the supermarket. Maybe it's a routine thing but being in my 41st year, I was rather flattered. Of course I didn't have I.D. so the check out woman did a grey hair head count, decided it was sufficient and I got my purchases.

Singing Snake!

Here she is, fellow pilgrim, boot luster and horsewoman, Singing Snake.


This is Bobby, a 16.2 Clydesdale x Thoroughbred. He's her UK mount.

More horses than cattle

Karen's mother Suzanne tells me Clarke County is horse country, more horses then cattle here. I can occasionally hear some from my tent. Might go boot and riding jeans looking today in a town called Battle Ground - which has a certain ring to it. I can tell my renowned fondness for footwear is going to be at an optimum. There again we might not boot shop, little 'uns have a big say in what happens with scheduling - which simplifies things. Me and Singing Snake have a shopping rendez-vous in Kalispell on Saturday so I'm certain boot lust and love wil be realised fantastically.

Finally I think I'm over my jet lag, but I've reset onto a terrific early to bed early to rise routine which really suits me in this glorious weather.

I'm getting quite a bit of Amelia holding time. She seems to like being held and sung Yeshe Tsogyal mantra. I'm also getting allot of time to catch up with yoga practice on the verandah which is an ideal, warm yet shady place. I have teacher training assessments about 6 weeks following my return to the UK so I'm trying to cover the syllabus well whilst here. Plus it'll help keep some riding muscles supple. That and some sKu-mNye.

My rather magnificent Tonto Rim hat arrived here along with a few other items. It is really splendid and I am already anticipating an eventful return journey in it on the plane.

Another view

Room with a view

Karen, Amelia and Rowan

Here are Karen, Amelia and Rowan.

Karen, Steve, Rowan and Amelia

Karen and Steve are friends of mine I know from Bristol where they used to live. I met Steve through attending his yoga classes and Karen was the bright, chatty lady who showed up on the mat next to mine one day. She had moved over to marry her man and settle in the UK. They moved back a couple of years ago following the birth of their first child, Rowan. I used to live near them and hold Rowan and take him for walks to gibe Karen short amounts of time with two arms. Karen,also an accomplished hatha yoga practitioner as well as nutritionist and cook, taught me a lot about yoga and food. They moved to near Karen's parents just outside of the casino town LaCenter, in Clarke County Washington, just the other side of the Columbia River from Portland. They have a house on 5 acres of land that they are busy planting and making beautiful. Recently, about 5 weeks ago, Karen gave birth to Amelia so once again it's a precious, tender time to be visiting them.

I've got to figure out how to put some pictures up. Amelia is a tiny adorable bundle of snaffles, squawks, yawns and grunts and soft, feathery hair. Rowan is a cherub of blond curls and honey skinned sweetness- a big aficionado of Thomas the Tank Engine.

My bedroom is an enormous tent pitched under an apple tree out the back. It's full of mattress, duvet, pillows and flowers. During my first night in it I was serenaded by coyote lullabies, perfect sound track for the vampire novel.

It's wonderfully chilly at night to justify optimum snuggling under the covers and a fantastic nights sleep, jet lag allowing. Last night I woke up to pee and wondered out to also check out the crisp night sky pierced by fierce bright stars. I couldn't see the threatened Perseid meteor shower but the display was pretty gorgeous nonetheless. Later i woke at 6.30 to a pale blue sky and birds darting everywhere making shadows against the tent. I opened out one of the sides and lay and gazed at the sky for ages as it came into daytime fullness, and contemplated coffee. Having got up and went to the house I encountered Steve balancing exquisitely in elegant adho mukha vrkasanas (hand stands) and pinchamyurasanas like a handstand but with the elbows bent) and Rowan eating home made muesli before doing a bit of his own stylee yoga.

I went back to the tent with coffee and did a little practice before I got a visit from the little fella, all smiles and curious about my new house. Managed to get a chatty yoga practice in the kitchen, nothing like a distraction like talking with a mate to get me to do yoga, before I succumbed to the home made muesli.

Everything Karen and Steve make tastes delicious. Karen's extensive nutrition training and her homey cooking make for hearty, robust food sensations. Thanks to her I eat eggs, butter and all the other fun stuff. Yesterday we went to the farmers market in Vancouver, a nearby town. It was pretty full on with fruit, veggies and flowers and for some reason dogs. Lots of people promenading pedigree pooches amidst the stalls. Very cool from Rowan's point of view who was able to check out the doggies, forage for fruit (later paid for by Karen), train spot on the adjacent railway line, spot some low flying planes and hang out on the playground – Rowan heaven. I swanned around in a stoned jet lag outofitness buying flowers, blueberries and hot dogs. Luckily Karen bought the sensible stuff.

Heathrow bardo

I left home in Bristol dead early - a 4.15 am taxi for the bus station. The taxi driver said he always works the 4 am - 1 pm shift. He was a connoisseur of the night sky before dawn, that subtle chord change from blackness to merest blue, which hung over my departure, a cool prelude for the days big trip.

Heathrow was bonkers, frenetic and completely disorientating, kind of fabulous. I love the shear massiveness the masses of humanity, movement and flux that wraps around, in and out of transitional hubs - airports, ports, stations. The United Airlines self-service check in worked beautifully provided I had a real human beside me as my guide. We enjoyed the irony. Security gave me double helpings, I got the extra prize draw, computer generated offer and prize of another search before boarding.

The flight was a ten hour to San Francisco then a short layover before flying onto Portland. No little DVD screens on the seats in front so I did weird things with my neck so I could catch the projection screen 10 rows in front showing Shrek 3, or at least 2/3rds of the screen. Gave up on the other movies and read Incubus Dreams, my latest Anita Blake Vampire hunter book. Ate the standard inflight food and enviously clocked my neighbour's special meal. She confided she'd been advised to request the Hindu diet option. Immigration and customs was uneventful, they looked stern, I looked guilty and we parted agreeably, I could come in, welcome to the USA.

Finally, at 5pmish, pacific time, landed in Portland, Oregon, claimed baggage and sat outside in the warmth and waited. Within minutes up drove Karen and little tiny baby Amelia to collect me and whisk me off to their home some 40 minutes away on the other side of the Columbia river.

Sunshine, heat, love it.

more Martha Jane

Here's some other pictures of Calamity.

Horseriding

Ngak’chang Rinpoche said:

"Horseriding was part of the culture of the gö kar chang lo’i dé – especially in Kham and Golok, where being respected was sometimes a question of life and death. Golok is famous for its bandits and travel was often precarious even for spiritual practitioners – but the banditry of those areas has a healthy respect for the gö kar chang lo’i dé – for not only had they evident powers, but they were also often fine riders who could easily vie with bandits for prowess on horseback. In the West we are not exactly beset by rampant bandits – but we are beset by rampant conceptuality, and there are few finer ways of abolishing conceptuality than to maintain presence on a galloping horse."

Calamity

This blog is being written for a mixture of family, friends and sangha - hopefully it'll provide a place to share the pilgrimage and maybe some other pilgrims will make guest appearences.

Calamity is my pilgrimage moniker, hence the title.

No idea if it's to do with Martha Jane "Calamity Jane" Cannary (1852 - 1903) who "was renowned for her excellent marksmanship, preference for men's clothing, and bawdy behaviour. Jane was said to have been an Army scout, a bullwhacker, a nurse, a cook, a prostitute, a prospector, a gambler, a heavy drinker and one of the most foul-mouthed people in the West."
Aceessed from: http://www.legendsofamerica.com/PicturePages/PP-Deadwood10-CalmityJane.html

Last ride before Montana

Today I rode for the last time before leaving for the USA on 10th August. I haven't been able to get riding lessons for love nor money, the stables are chock a block with kids being taught so I've been going on hour long hacks around the horse trails of Blaise Castle on the outskirts of Bristol. The constant rain has meant for still lush, bright green growth on the park lands, the trails are overgrown with brambles, nettles and blackberries - gorgeous albeit incredibly muddy underfoot and the forests are heavy with deep green light and moist, earthy smells. Today a dainty roe deer startled the horses, it bounded from almost under us, better then the scrambler bike that scared the bejaysus out of us last week.

I'm not much of a rider, but so far I've made up for lack of technical know how with gusto and gumption. My mother's a keen equestrian as were both her parents. I ride at Fitzgeralds Equestrian Centre in Abbyfeale, Co. Limerick, Ireland when visiting my mother and the prospect of Montana has encouraged me to do more. Earlier this year in May I spent a few days riding on hacks for a couple of hours a day at Fitzes under the expert eye of Leona - a super and smart horsewoman. She had me up and down a few banks and ditches and doing a few jumps - taking it handy on Splatters who was a sure and fun mount and daily riding was sheer joy.

Clothing crisis

It seems to me much of life is a clothing crisis, "formal or casual" (or something along those lines) ad infinitum. Preparing for the pilgrimage to Montana and the Hidden Land of Yeshé Tsogyal is no different. I've consulted the sartorially elegant and eloquent Naljorma gZa’tsal and Ngakma Dé-zér and received detailed helpfulness in emails on good riding gear and attire. So with some confidence I ordered 'the hat' from Tonto Rim, which has been delivered to my first pre-Montana US destination - I am now a fever pitch excitement. I've also ordered various items of clothing online, but possibily left it a little late, consternation!