Idaho - 6/30/07

Full moon tonight. We're on a surprise day off at Campbell's Ferry right on the Salmon River. I'm sitting naked on a warm rock in the mid morning sun, cool water lapping and playing around my ankles, setting an easy pace. Naked. Feeling great and more inspired to write, to swim, to laugh without a care. Soft bright sand, light rapids, and evergreen trees line the bank across from my warm rock. This feels right. Yesterday I saw a glistening black raven, two rattlesnakes (one six feet away rattling, poised to strike) and two elk. We hiked down Highline ridge into the Salmon River valley, through deep forest and exposed views from the highest point around. Through meadows with scattered Ponderosa pines, bold and towering, with a sweet smell like saltwater taffy. Lazy switchbacks down 3000 vertical feet, winding closer to the Salmon. My knees are worn and red from sawing all day, pants wearing thin. The heat reminds me of summer footbal, and sitting by the pool after a long day of practice, every muscle sore, throbbing. Our lack of food reminds me of living poor in Chicago, of staying in, hungry, during bitter January days. Cheap, free, deals, peanut butter and stale bread. We've got that in our food sack along with a bag of rice and a few packs of noodles with a hunk of slimy cheese. Catching the glint of the sun off my glasses I peer out over them, out at the river, the trees, the sun speckled river, as they all mesh together out of focus, colors running, bleeding, my eyes relaxing, resetting after each blink. This can't be recreated. My eyes are growing old and stubborn, they're not used to seeing without the help of a lens. Resting this notebook on my bare thigh, taking a deep breath, and feeling connected to something, completely connected. My legs and bottoms grip to every grain of sand atop the warm rock, sitting cross-legged, as exposed to my surroundings as they are to me.

A boat just passed and with it the connection. A big shiny red and white four man boat ripping through the river, making wake and unnatural rapids, sending waves at me. No embarrassment, no wave or acknowledgement from my exposed form. Just a curious look. The surroundings didn't flow as easily after that, shaken up from the motor boat. Taking one last look I knew it was time to go. As I left I felt an overwhelming happiness that it accepted a naked kid on a rock with bad vision.