The Band Bus

What happens on the band bus stays on the band bus.


Egads, got to write this fast...

Ever have a thought pop into your head that's so rediculous, you just burst out laughing, and every one just stares at you like you're a lunatic or something? I just had one of those. Osama Bin Laden smut fic... Oh Lord help us.... I'm sure those have to exist somewhere, in some God/Allah forsaken corner of the internet. I'm not entirely sure why I thought of it. It just kinda popped up, like, well, a pop-up.

Oh, I don't have the internet at the place at the beach, so I'm writing this from a restaurant computer (?!?). Sadly, that also means I can't upload the rest of the pictures, and I've got some pretty amazing ones from Yosemite, including a blury one of a bear that we nearly hit with our car. Pretty fun stuff.... Anyway, this computer is limited to 30 minutes per customer, so I have to go. I think there's an internet cafe or something around here, so I might try and hit one of those. Oh, and I'm back in Oregon. Go ahead and celebrate now.

Pics

I don't want to go through the whole shenanigans of searching through my photos, waiting for them to upload and then accidentally deleting them, so I made a Facebook album instead. You don't have to have an account to see them I don't think, and I really recomend you take a looksee.
Behold! The linkage ... http://hs.facebook.com/album.php?aid=31718&l=a2ef1&id=828590503

Oh, and here are some totally unrelated LOLcats....








What Matters Most


It is with great resistance that I say this: it's our last day here. It is the last day that I may sit in the presence of these red, stately sentinels. It is the last time I may hear the Virgin River pass by as it breathes life into an otherwise harsh land. It is the last time in a long while that I may awake and find myself in this paradise.

This place, despite my doe-eyed musings, is in no way forgiving. There's more evidence of death - twisted trunks of trees that have no memory of their old budding leaves, vultures circling patiently for the next soul to fall victim to the desert sun - than of life. Run out of water, take a wrong step and you become merely another nameless to be claimed by the canyons. Yet in many ways life is far more celebrated here. Living things are sparce and thus sen individually rather than lumped together as they are back home. A drop of water is a godsend, and a cloud shelf is a good friend that never visits enough.

Someday I'll come back. I doubt I could go on knowing I wouldn't. Whether I can bring myself to live here is another matter. It's not the heat that concerns me. I've gone through 100+ degree days and find it more comfortable than I thought. What's stopping me from making my stand in a place that I love is the fact that I'll be joined by so many others. They come to find solitude and to get away from it all, yet inadvertently they end up bringing it all with them. Moab is Utah's Bend. I can't bring myself to aid in the taming of the West, when it was its wilds and spirit that I fell in love with. At the same time, though, we're being told to pursue what makes us happy. I'd work at a 2-star hotel if it meant I could be here.

Yet now I think of home, my current home, rather. I think of the coast, of the mountains, of the Gorge. Leaving that is as hard as leaving here. How can I be two states away from the coast? How can I be without so much green? Every thing's so fresh in Oregon, and much tamer. A storm in Oregon means the rain's falling just a little bit longer and the wind's blowing just a smidge harder. It's a metropolitan/rustic blend of utopia. It's safe, forgiving. And of course, once an Oregonian, always an Oregonian.

This is a conflict I do not take lightly. In which paradise can I find the greatest peace? The calm of a forest painted with all the colors of fall, whispering as a mountain breeze meanders by. Silently, the leaves are caught up and fall softly onto a still lake. The sun makes its way over the hills and mountains, sweeping away the fearful night, and the songbirds praise its coming. Then there's the canyon, an island in the sky overlooking lands man has never before set food on, and more assuringly never will. A gust of wind races past you and dives into the canyon and then nothing - not the rustling of brush nor the solemn eulogy of a raven. The silence is incomparable. No amount of decorated language can describe the peace you feel. You want to call out into the infinite expanse, for never before have you been so aware of the fact that you're alive. In the whole world, there are no others save you, and all that matters is you and the maze of white rimmed ravines and canyons that stretch for eternity, swallowing the sun in a riot of colors.

Heh, well, I think I've made my choice....

Day One and Two

The following are random thoughts I had each day, some relevent to the location, others purely random. This post may be rather long, but I'm gonna try and post daily from now on. I'll post the best picture of each day on

Day One:
  • Eww...you know how truckers pee into milk cartons and beer bottles and then throw them out onto the side of the road? Yeah...I just saw one of those.
  • The English language makes no sense! I've been thinking about the word "come" (no, not in that way, and shame on you if that's where your mind went). When we say something singular like "He comes," we add an S to the end, but when the subject is plural and ends in an S, like "Ducks come," there is no S. What the hell?
  • Eastern Oregon has lovely wildflowers this time of year.
  • You simply cannot name a canyon Happy Canyon. They need badass names like Hells Canyon and Grand Canyon. Happy Canyon? Good god....
  • Ooo, an electronic billboard of psalms! What, crap, was that 6:31, 63:1 or 631? Stupid Bible chapters...
  • Holy shit, is that a machine gun!?
Day Two
  • You think you've seen bizarre things? Try watching my Oh-My-God-I-Actually-Remembered-To-Pack-It! dance.
  • Pelicans? Pelicans?? Yes, pelicans.
  • Idaho has dust storm warning signs. You know what other place has dust storms? Iraq. What else does Iraq have? Terrorists. Therefor, Idaho has terrorists.
  • Ogden, UT...why does that place sound so familiar...TAXES! It's where our federal taxes are sent! AH, no, not taxes! NOOO!
  • Cheerz, the cheerleading gym (actual name of a place)
  • There are no small houses in Utah
  • Jesus Christ! Look at all the churches!
  • "Now you know! Tell somebody!" I have Herpes. (That was an actual billboard sign. Ok, well, not the Herpes part)
  • Hans Zimmer to Led Zeppelin to O-ZONE (Numa Numa Song) to Simon and Garfunkel. Only on a Sarah Playlist.
  • M to the O to the A to the B it's Moab!
(sorry it's sideways, it was rightside up before I upload it)




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