Ruby Goes to
Posted March 21, 2006
Part 3 - Castle Garden
The year Jim made his first trip to Wyoming, he got in so late that he just napped in the truck in their driveway, rather than wake up Mike and Trice. Mike found him out there, clapped him on the shoulder as soon as he stumbled out of the truck, and asked him, "Are you ready for a hike?"
"Sure," said Jim, too disoriented from lack of sleep and lack of acclimatization to the altitude to know what he was saying. Mike whisked him up to his favorite spot in the mountains, and from the visitor's center they hiked up another thousand feet to a splendid waterfall.
It took Jim the first week of his stay to get over that introduction to the mountains. This trip, Mike curbed his enthusiasm and picked Castle Garden as our first excursion. I think it was the only place we went all vacation that was lower in altitude than Riverton.
We drove out into a baked desert where scattered scrubby plants clung to the yellow soil. Jim and Mike marvelled over how green everything was after the long-awaited rains earlier that spring. Wildflowers had bloomed that had lain dormant so long 10-year-old children had never seen them before. There were mounds everywhere that piqued Jim's interest, and he prevailed upon Mike to stop along the side of the road and let us out. Sam, their eleven-year-old son, shook his head in amazement as we clambered over the low, rocky hills.
It was my first experience of dry heat. I'd always heard, "It's not the heat, it's the humidity," but I'd never experienced it myself before. I held my arms out in the blazing sun, making my way over a parched landscape, babbling in amazement that I was more comfortable than I'd been for weeks back home, although I soon wished I had a hat to shade my eyes.
"Drink something," Jim suggested when we returned to the car, none the wiser as to what made the mounds, and I was surprised how thirsty I was once I settled on some Gatorade from the assortment of beverages Trice had thoughtfully packed in a cooler. The sweat was evaporating before I even realized I was sweating.
We resumed our trip and were soon at Castle Garden. There were pictographs there, protected from vandals by wire fencing, but I left them to the guys. I just wandered around among the scattered sagebrush and occasional evergreens. I didn't take many pictures. Moving around was an effort that left me feeling, not tired so much, but as if I had a buzz on, and I was content just to stay within earshot of the others, breathing the thin air and keeping moving in that magical heat that wasn't sticky.
The most amazing thing was, no matter how hot I got in the sun, if I stepped into the shade I cooled off. As both the pine trees and some of the rocks cast shade, it wasn't hard to find some, and I kept myself delighted with the exercise. First I'd venture out into the blazing sun until I got uncomfortably hot. Then I'd mosey back into the shade and cool off. I'd approached every other hike I'd ever made in my life as an exploration. This was the first time I'd moved around just to experience the environment.
When we got back home, the dogs barked their heads off in delight their people were home and in excitement that Jim and I (still strangers) were with them. Once they settled down, I reached for my needlework to unwind in the shade of their patio. My friends had warned me not to leave it on the floor or the ground, but I'd been tired when I went to bed and had done so anyway. One handle of the cloth bag had been chewed through, but thankfully my project hadn't been harmed. I'd brought a sweater-vest I'd started for Jim three years before; it was late enough already without having to start over again!
"Tomorrow," said Mike, with a look of dreamy anticipation in his eyes, "We'll go up in the mountains!"
By Ruby Jung, even the background. All rights reserved to the story. If you care for the background, you're welcome to copy and use it.