June Reflection

June has been a crazy-busy month with several fun things worth remembering.

* To kick off, my niece and I embarked on a LOTR marathon. She had never seen the movies before, so it was a highlight of my life to get to be the first to watch them with her (she's not the apple of my eye or anything). By the time the day arrived, I had a spread of delectable foods that any Hobbit would drool over. It's a long journey to Mordor and back, after all, and we definitely did not starve.

* FINALLY, I got to take my camper (affectionately called Little Blue) to an actual camper spot and spend the weekend in it in nature. Bought the adorable R-pod 180 last August and every attempt so far had fallen through. At last! And did we get put through the hoops. My poor husband had to back the thing into THE WORST spot ever: a steep incline with several curves in it and washed-out drop-offs on both sides. WTH. Despite his anxiety about it, he rocked it. Then we learned that the water spigot was 85 feet away (WTH), and we had 25 feet of hose. So as soon as we get parked, we had to drive 20 mins into the nearest Walmart for gobs more hose. The next morning, a storm blew in with winds that, thankfully, had decreased from 65 mph to 45, and Little Blue did great.

The glorious things: taking my second home with me like a crab wearing a shell, wearing a bathing suit in the rain, a pair of Canada geese with four goslings, nosy crows, the sound of waves at night, fishing with my nephews and catching a 20 pound catfish (WTH). 

Still to come! 

* My 23rd wedding anniversary on the 24th, for which my husband and I are driving to Colorado to attend the Pike's Peak Hill Climb. We've never attended this race, and to claim a good space to watch, we have to be climbing up that mountain at 2:30 IN THE MORNING! This ought to be a crazy adventure.

* I ought to finish the first draft of my historical WIP--which will earn me a bottle of champagne. It's a bloody mess, and I can't wait to dive into edits.

Pics from the camping trip:

This pic doesn't even capture the horrendousness of the drive hubby had to back down.

Gorgeous sunset view from our camping spot.

The storm's gust front pushing in at 6:30 am.

Yeah...

Egypt, Special Moments

 As if the cruise up the Nile wasn't special enough, there are a few highlights that stand out. I even captured a few of them on camera.

After returning to the Medea with feet throbbing from a hectic morning of sightseeing, how refreshing it was to get showered and head up to the sundeck where Ahmed or Islam were tending bar.

The pina coladas featured fresh coconut. When I wasn't interested in a cocktail, coffee was always on tap. For the first time I tried Turkish coffee, fragrant with cardamom. I loved it so much that the first thing I did upon returning home was order me a Turkish coffee set. I still can't get the foam just right.

This is Islam. Amazing how the waitstaff responded when guests treated them as people rather than "servants" whom they seemed to prefer to be invisible. The best time on board the boat was interacting with these guys, getting to know them a bit, even allowing them to drag me out on the dance floor (I don't dance, so it was a huge deal, but how do you tell these guys no?). Treat these guys well, and they return the favor by surprising you with coffee before you think to ask for it. And Islam here was so excited to show me his hometown, Ar-Aman, as we sailed past.

Downtime was enhanced by our cabin's huge sliding windows. Once the afternoon shade hit our side of the boat, we escaped the Egyptian sun and enjoyed the cool breeze on our tired swollen feet. How often I had to remind myself that landscape drifting slowly past was, in fact, real. That we were actually lounging on the Nile itself.

At Rameses' temple at Abu Simbel, I dared approach the pharaoh so we could compare feet. His will be around a lot longer than mine, but I advised him to get a pedi.

photo by Cobren Brown

It was hard to leave. 

Not just the boat, but the group of people we traveled with. One dear lady, who quickly became the heart of the group, was returning to Egypt after 40 years. She eagerly shared her rich memories and closed a few doors that missed opportunities had left gaping. She had been through much during her long life, and I urged her to write her story. I hope she does. In return, she practically adopted my husband as her son, and took this beautiful picture of us on our last evening on the Medea.

Would I return to Egypt? In a heartbeat. If the world doesn't mess things up, maybe I'll get the opportunity. Until then, I shall revisit it in my memories.

Floating the Nile

Everything is research. But what better research than to actually visit the location where your story takes place? Every mile we sailed up the Nile, every minaret, every jewel of rural life, every interaction with the wait staff and passengers, every time we ducked through thick crowds of vendors, provided more research than seeing all the ruins Egypt has to offer.

Here are a few of those jewels that I could never glean from books. And do please excuse the quality of the photos. Some were shot from a moving bus.

Typical farm and canal. The unfinished pillars atop the roof are supports for housing for the next generation.

The modern and the timeless continually crashing into each other.

A market in Cairo, just for selling birds. Parakeets, cockatoos, you name it, they got it.

Friday prayer spilling out onto the sidewalk, Luxor. If I could play the call to prayer, I would. It is haunting and powerful.

Transporting fodder or cane across the Nile.

Spice Vendor at Philae, featuring some of my fellow passengers.

Ash-brewed coffee at a Nubian village. The coffee was brewed with ginger root and other spices for ... ahem ... virility.

Courtyard at a Nubian house, featuring a sand floor and reed thatch. Domed ceilings regulate temperatures to keep the interior cool. I want a house like this.

Lush farmland stretching to the desert. West bank, Luxor/Thebes. The ruin at the edge of the green is the Ramesseum, which features largely in my story.

Sunset, Luxor, from the sundeck of the Medea. At times there are in fact gorgeous sunsets featuring molten clouds. These clouds happened to herald a storm that struck Aswan a couple of days after we left. The resulting flood caused scorpions to flee the ground and invade peoples' homes and businesses. 500 people ended up in the hospital.

Egypt Trip is Go!

 All summer, I fought the urge to blog about a hope and a dream I had in the planning, terrified that if I made the plan public, it would fall through, like so many others have. Call me superstitious. So I wrote nothing about it.

That is no longer necessary.

The hope and the dream became reality. On October 31 (yep, Halloween), my husband and I flew to Egypt for a two week tour and cruise up the Nile. We flew home on November 13 (yep, the thirteenth). If I was really that superstitious, I wouldn't have laughed about those dates.

So now I get to post highlights of the trip.

Though this photo was taken in 2021, it could've happened 100 yrs ago.

The traffic and pollution in Cairo were a shock.

The original color on the columns of Karnak struck me breathless.

Seeing Luxor Temple after dark is the way to go. Cool and beautiful.

Typical street market, this one in Luxor.

Selfie from the sundeck of our cruise boat, MS Medea. El-Qurn, the pyramidal mountain beneath which you'll find the Valley of the Kings, is over my left shoulder.

To Be Continued...

Cry of the Falcon, Progress Report

I've counted them up, and it looks like I have only three (maybe four) chapters to write in Cry. I'm so stoked that I feel like emitting an undignified, porcine squeal.

Almost! The finish line is in site, and it feels amazing. Once this draft is finished, I get to my favorite part of the process -- the editing. Cut, move, tweak, polish. Hopefully I have something here that will sparkle. (I foresee quite a bit of work to remove the grime, however.)

So far, this installment of the Falcons Saga has taken twice as long to write as the others, but it's the same(ish) length. Last year was a struggle to fight the burn-out and keep going. But I'm past that for the present and can't wait to finish this beast.

This week I'll be writing in a hotel in Kansas City. Lothiar is going with me to keep me company. I'm taking a dragon, too. ;) Should be an interesting brawl.

Road Trip: Mt. Elbert, Colorado

Two years in a row, my husband and I have driven to Leadville, Colorado, to be part of the race crew for a friend who was riding in the Leadville 100 Mountain Bike Race. We rented the same cabin above Twin Lakes again this year, because the view is unbeatable. Surreal, really. 

Sunrise view from cabin, Twin Lakes.

Sunset view from cabin, Twin Lakes.

This year, we chose to undergo the arduous hike up Mount Elbert, Colorado's highest peak. I just thought I had been exercising enough. But the trail is so steep that by the time we had reached the 12,600 mark--well above treeline, thank you--my legs finally rebelled and stopped pulling me up another step. I sat among some rocks, sheltered from the wind, while the rest of my party climbed on. A chipmunk kept me company. I fed him some bread off my peanut butter sandwich, but I didn't like the way he was having to smack on the bread, so I switched to almonds. I hate almonds, and my trail mix was full of them, so I stacked some on the rocks, and this greedy, grateful little guy stuffed as many as he could into his cheeks, then dashed off to stash them in his hidey-holes. 

Now, I'm kicking myself for not getting pics of the little guy. All I took was video of him snatching the bread. Ah, well. He kept me entertained while I waited for word from my party. A long while later, my husband sent me a text saying they had reached the summit. It took them another 45 minutes to hike back down to me. By then I was well rested, but they were in pain. We all wanted off that mountain, so we started down immediately. It took us (them) four hours to reach the top and two more to hike back down. I have never been so sore in all my life. Every muscle from my hips to my ankles is letting me know that they didn't appreciate the abuse. 

But we've made it home again, and my work-out regimen is about to kick up a few notches. The mountain defeated me ... this time.

Mt. Elbert. Above the clouds by 8 a.m.

Road Trips: Mountain Corridors

My husband had training this week in Denver, and it's times like this that it pays to be a writer. I get to pack up my laptop and my notes and travel with him. Writing in hotels, where there are no distractions, is one of my chief pleasures. Hiking in the mountains with friends is another. Once training was over, we kidnapped our friends and they took us to the South Platte Corridor. It's a gorgeous hike up a pine-clad mountain that overlooks the tumbling river. The voices of rushing water below and wind in the pines above sound almost identical.

We came up over a ridge and were faced with the devastating results of a forest fire. The sight of the barren landscape took my breath away. This particular fire had happened a decade or more ago, but the land still had not recovered. My inquisitive mind, however, was fascinated by the lay of the land, as it looks underneath all the trees. It felt like getting to glimpse a secret.

This rocky peek that jutted up from the burned slopes inspired all kinds of fantastical stories in my head.

And bleached tangles of old roots always provide lovely specimens to admire.

We snacked and refueled at an abandoned mine, then hiked back down the mountain. On the 11-hour drive home, we raced a snowstorm. Made it just in time. 

Looks like our next trip will be in August, when we'll head back up the mountain for the Leadville mountain bike race. Until then, I have ogres to slay.

I'm such a slacker...

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 ...when it comes to writing during the holidays. November and December wreak havoc on my routines, so eventually I just stop trying and wait for January to roll around. Roll around it has, so here we are, back to blogging.

How were your holidays? I hope they were filled with chaotic joy and so many blessings your hands are too full to hold them all.

Ours started out with a bang. For Thanksgiving, my husband and I had the opportunity to break every beloved tradition and take a road trip with friends. We ended up in Moab, Utah, in a gorgeous rental house. The weather was ideal, cool air with a warm sun to bask in while we ate turkey sandwiches atop the slickrock formation. Then while our friends challenged themselves on mountain- and road bikes, my husband and I hiked around the arches. This is one of our favorite places on planet Earth.

La Sals from Slickrock

Double Arches, Arches National Park

In other news, one of my dearest acquaintances from the online writing world flattered me to pieces when she asked to interview me for her new blog The Ether of My Imagination. Kimberly's posts will be focusing on writing instruction and Indie authors, and her delightful sense of humor is not to be missed. The interview is now available, so head on over and check it out.

Happy 2013! I wish you all the best in the coming months.
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Travelogue: Writing, with BATS!

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My weekly progress report is several days late because travel knocked me off routine, but that's okay, right? Last week, my husband and I drove to Austin, Texas, for his work. My work got to take place on the eighth floor of a hotel room with a river view. I've had to learn to enjoy writing from hotel rooms. Years ago, the change in location threw me off, and it used to take a day or so for my brain to adjust and start creating again. But now? Glorious. There are no distractions in a well-placed hotel room. No dishes to be done, no cleaning, no weeding, no shopping, no cats to feed and push off your laptop, no reason to even answer the phone because you simply can't come to dinner tonight, you're out of state, see ya later.

I did not expect to like Austin as much as I did. A lovely city. The best part to me was the natural wonder right in the middle of downtown, all of fifty yards from our hotel. Most people are creeped out by bats, but bats are one of my favorite animals. I mean, c'mon, they're mammals that FLY! And they're furry, and they eat West Nile virus-carrying mosquitoes. So when I heard from a friend that Austin had a colony of bats, I was thinking, "Okay, we'll get in the car, drive to a cave in the hill country, and see the bats." Noooo. We walked out of the hotel, onto the bridge that crosses the Colorado River and experienced the bats. On one side of the bridge, we got to watch an amazing sunset turn the sky and the skyscrapers orange. On the other side, dusk approached. Under the sound of the traffic crossing the bridge, we could barely hear the squeaking as the bats woke up and became more and more excited.

When sunset was almost completely faded and the sky was the right color of lavender-gray, the first bats started darting out from under our feet. Then wheels of bats started circling, and the squeaking became odd little clicks. At last, three narrow columns of thousands upon thousands of bats flew out over the river and into the city. I'm sure I was standing with my mouth and eyes popped wide open. At my house, we have exactly three bats that come out on summer nights and eat our mosquitoes. So I was not expecting clouds of bats. Literal clouds; once they flew out over the city, the three tidy columns bunched up into shifting black clouds. And they kept pouring out, pouring out, pouring out, till after dark when we could no longer see them.

Another unexpected surprise was the scent. Exactly three bats don't put off much perfume, you know. But when thousands upon thousands of bats get the air moving, there is this distinctive sweet, musty odor. I might have chalked it up to some little old lady's odd perfume, but we smelled it the second night as well. The second night was even better, because we walked down the riverside trail and rented kayaks. I had never kayaked before, so I was very glad the river was wide and calm, else I would've ended up in the water with the turtles and catfish. But I stayed in the boat and at sunset we paddled to the bridge. Down on the water, the roar of traffic was much softer and the squeaking of the bats far more distinct. The bridge, we saw, is actually constructed with deep slots made to house the bats, so we couldn't see them until they started flying out.

When the sun dropped behind a skyscraper and the sky turned to lavender-gray, here they came. Three columns right over our heads. I paddled as fast I could to keep up with them as one of the columns followed the treetops along the bank. A second column crossed the river and flew along the water on my other side. Then came that sweet, musty odor and the black shifting clouds as the bats left the treetops and joined up over the city.

An unforgettable experience. So, if you happen to travel through Austin, take the opportunity to see this amazing nightly nature event right in the middle of downtown.

All that to say that, while in Austin, I finished Chapter 6 and it was a doozie. *whew* But writing more about it here would spoil the bat story. 
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Beauty and Relaxation - Road Trip Travelogue II

The rest of the road trip was phenomenal. The best my husband and I have ever taken. Once work was wrapped up in Boulder, we took the scenic route west to Breckenridge and stayed in a gorgeous, renovated old lodge at the base of Mount Quandary. We managed to hit the place just before high season, so our room rates were unbeatable.

Our first stop was Mount Evans. My husband has this crazy goal of mountaineering up several (if not all) of the fourteeners in Colorado, and Mount Evans is the only one that is conquered by driving up to the top. So I can say that I, too, in all my physical weenie-ness, have conquered a fourteener. I'm actually prouder that I did not faint on the narrow broken road that winds along the cliffsides to get there. What is it with people who don't put guard rails on the sides of roads? In any case, it's amazing how short the breath is at that altitude, but the view is truly spectacular:

(my husband standing on top of the world)

The best part for me, though, was that we got to see mountain goats. Up close. Like six feet away. Growing up, my father (who should've been a mountain man in the early 19th Century) had taught me to look for animals, and it became a fun game on trips to be the first one to spot the pronghorn, the deer, etc. It was a rare treat when we got to see elk or goats through binoculars. I kept bemoaning the fact that I had forgotten our binoculars and wondered if I would get to see a goat at all. Well, atop Mt. Evans there is a privy, for all the people who survive the drive without pissing their pants. Before we begin the terrifying drive back down, we decide to make a pit-stop, and what do I see resting in the shade of the privy building? A herd of young goats! I gasp, unable to believe my eyes. No binoculars needed. These adorable little guys are not six feet away. I grab my camera (that, of course, keeps shutting down due to low batteries!) and snap as many pics as I can:

Mountain Goat: Mt. Evans

I was surprised by how small these critters are. They're smaller than my dog. Of course, she is a Great Pyrenees, so I shouldn't be surprised.

Anyway, the trip already felt like a success, so on we drove, reaching the lodge that evening. The next day, we decided on the hike we wanted to take. It's called the Blue Lakes trail, which is extremely easy, the "trail" actually being a grated road that winds along the side of Mount Quandary to the glacial lake. And what do you suppose we got to see? Yep, more goats! A herd of them was lounging around on the trail and snuffling up some kind of mineral that must be in the sand or gravel there. These were full grown and wilder than the Evans goats. Our approach made them a bit nervous, but I grabbed my camera and started filming. (Yes, I acted like the star-struck idiots that I always cuss. Seriously, people come to Oklahoma and sneak up on buffaloes with their cameras snapping. So stupid.) I was prepared to dive up on some dude's truck if the goats decided to charge me, b/c their horns are dagger sharp and I had just heard a story about a hiker who was gored in the leg by an aggressive male. He died of blood loss before he could be rescued. So, while I was cautious, I should never have gotten so close. The goats eventually got tired of me gawking and moved on up the slope so James and I could pass. We watched the marmots and pikas hop around on the rocks for a while, then drove into Breckenridge for a beer and gift shopping. Lovely.

(View from Lodge. Fog the morning we left for home)

We spent the rest of the time exploring mountain roads and looking at all the ridiculously expensive houses and wishing we could afford one. Then we packed up and started home. The only disappointment we suffered on that drive was a failed side jaunt. When I was 12 or so, my family had taken a similar trip, and my dad was thrilled to show us the Royal Gorge, that scarily deep river gorge with a scarily high bridge across it. I longed for my husband to see it, so we planned our route just so we could stop by. Well, twenty years later, there is no "stopping by." Money-grubbers have turned the view into a theme park. It costs $25 friggin' bucks to see the view. They expect folks to stay all day and ride the roller coasters and eat the fried food while they're at it. I was extremely disappointed, so we continued on, cursing this greedy person and that greedy person who would capitalize on a view. But what's new?

Anyway, we made it home in one grueling shot. I think I lost my marbles somewhere between Pueblo and Amarillo, but I found them again eventually.

In conclusion, this trip was more joyful and relaxing than I could've hoped for. Once I forget the stiffness that comes with sitting so long in a vehicle, I'm sure I'll be ready for the next one.
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Adventure and Havoc - Road Trip Travelogue

Because I do have good internet connection at our hotel, I decided I might as well update my journals on the progress of our road trip instead of puking out all the details in one long post when I get home.

I love the line from Pitch Black: "a long time for something to go wrong." That's been the pattern of our trips through Colorado lately. Last time we were delayed in passes and on interstates because of ice and traffic jams. This time because of wild fire. So here goes:

My husband and I left our house at 5:30 am yesterday (was that just yesterday?) and decided that we would stop at the Capulin Volcano attraction in NE New Mexico, something we had always wanted to do. We're both secretly geology nerds. Driving up that narrow road that some fool decided not to put rails on to keep drivers from driving over the edge freaked me out, but we made it safely to the parking area near the top. The place, surprisingly, was packed. Lots of geology nerds out there, I guess. We hiked down into the crater and all around the rim, which was amazing. The view all around is spectacular. One can see all the other volcanoes in the area and the lava flows barely covered in short yellow grass. We could even see all the way back to Oklahoma, on the very far eastern horizon.

After that wonderful experience, we decided to take a road we had never driven before and were greatly rewarded with scenic views. We even got to see the valley where Folsom man was discovered. Or is it where the Folsom points were discovered? Whatever. I'm an archeology nerd. That's no secret. We wound down off the most gorgeous plateau I've ever seen and finally arrived at Raton, where we would cross into Colorado. Be while we were driving through that plateau, we noticed an odd bit of traffic coming out of Raton. It just struck us as wrong somehow, and sure enough, we learned that the interstate over Raton Pass had just closed because of a wild fire that had flared up near the roadway. We drove far enough to see it, and I tell you, the sight of trees suddenly exploding into flame is startling and terrifying.

Just as startling was the realization that, yes, we had to turn back. Back up the plateau we drove, back past the Folsom man valley, following the slow caravan of all the other travelers who had the same route in mind. Ahem, but my husband and I are adventurers when it comes to road trips and we had just purchased a very detailed map. Thank God for small blessings. Between Folsom-man valley and the town of Folsom (which is almost all the way back to the volcano and where the caravan would at last book it north), there was a dotted line of a road that crossed into Colorado. We had rented a Jeep Grand Cherokee for this trip (another blessing), so we decided to go for it. This rough, rock-strewn road cut across one ranch or another, through country that most folks don't get to see, and it took us to the highway ahead of the crowd. Yee-haw!

While the adventure was fun, we arrived at our hotel 15 hours after leaving home. We were exhausted and went to Chile's for cocktails. Well deserved. Here's to hoping the rest of the trip goes more smoothly.

Road Trip, Baby!

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My husband and I are going on a road trip all next week. We're headed to Denver. It starts out as work-related, but after all the work stuff is wrapped up, we plan to go exploring through some mountains. It's nearly 100 degrees in OK, but CO is apparently still getting snow up high. I had a hell of a time trying to decide what to pack. Flipflops? Fuzzy boots? I packed both. Yes, there is a bag just for my shoes. But what's a girl to do? I'm a lowlander, and I have no idea what supplies I will need. Better to go over-prepared than under-prepared.

This is the first trip I will have taken since getting the Kindle, which is exciting, b/c it's already saved me tons of room. I hope to read Preeminent Hollows by Brian Fatah Steele. Hopefully it won't give me nightmares, as I'm likely to have nightmares sleeping in a strange place anyway. While my husband is at his work sessions, I'll be in the hotel room either working on the novel project or editing/critiquing the story of a LegendFire member. I love trying to work on my writing in strange hotel rooms. Getting away from all the responsibilities I have at home usually makes for interesting and productive writing.

Then, once we get to the exploring part, we're driving to Mt. Quandary. My husband attempted to hike up it a couple of years ago, but it was blowing snow and he was sick with bronchitis or something. Not good for a lowlander to have sick lungs at that altitude. So we mean to hike around a bit, though I have no illusions about making it to the top. It will be nice just to stretch the legs and take in the scenery.
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