Chasing light

The cold pushed me out of Taos. Or rather, pushed my van out. I was finally able to get the van started and made the decision to start heading south to warmer weather. The heater may keep me warm at night, but Lucy is no match for it right now. I can’t blame her.

I made it to Planet fitness in Santa Fe, exercised, and showered. Feeling like a million bucks, I climbed back into the van, looking forward to enjoying an evening at a free campsite outside of town. It is not necessarily warm here in Santa Fe, but 45 feels like spring after spending a couple days in Taos. The van should have no trouble starting. Yet… I turned the key, no response. I called another AAA jumper to help me get going, again. He arrived at 6:30 and must’ve been close to getting off work, because he tried to jump it with two packs, apologized, and rushed off after ten minutes, offering no other solutions. Thanks to the endorphins I had just released, I was not bothered. I calm kicked the heat on in the van and prepped to stay overnight. It was dark and cold and my body was sore. I would handle this in the morning.

I slept like hell but pulled myself out of bed around 7:30. Meditated. Stretched. I pulled my warm clothes back on and went to work removing the battery so I could walk it a few blocks away to the O’reillys. Great news— it was a bad battery. Bad news— the bolts I had to connect the terminals were too long so I wasn’t able to get a good connection. Unaware of this, I had it towed to a local AAA certified shop where they told me the news and went to work checking the alternator and other factors. Now, I sit in a cafe down the block, with Luna in her backpack by my side, enjoying vegan sausage and eggs. I’m still feeling like a million bucks.

I made my way back to the mechanic, paid my dues, and climbed back into the drivers seat. Sure, I had just paid nearly $300 to have someone tighten the terminals on my battery as well as a belt or two. Sure I wish it was something I would have been able to diagnose myself. But I let it go, not allowing it to dampen my mood or cause me stress.

I drove over to Meow Wolf, an interactive art installation that I had briefly saw on one of the travel groups I follow. I bought my wristband, spit out my gum, and was unleashed into a parallel universe. The door from the lobby leads into a large room completely filled by a two story victorian house. You’re standing on the lawn, the lights are dim, but the lights from the house shine brightly. The porch wraps around the front of the house, I climb up and into the main room. People were everywhere, opening cabinets, reading books. If you choose, you can find clues throughout the home to determine what happened to the family who once lived there. Or, you can wander aimlessly from room to room, in awe of the sets and the time spent designing and building this place. I did a little of both. I could dedicate an entire blog post to dissecting this place, but I found it to be magical to experience with no prior expectations. I’ll share just a tiny bit more, there is so much more to see.

I meandered around the house until I finally ducked into the fireplace in the living room, which exited into a pink bubblegum cave, with a giant skeleton of an unknown creature, with rib bones that played musical notes when you hit them. I watched a couple of people create melodies and couldn’t stop smiling about the absurdity of it. I ducked back into the house and rummaged cabinets in the kitchen, which were filled with tiny worlds, lights, and mirrors. I opened the fridge, which turned into a passageway to a very bright, white room. I don’t remember where I came out… the forest? Anyway. It was amazing, magical, bizarre. I only left once I was sure I had seen it all. I can’t wait to return with friends.

A few days later, I sit in Celeste’s apartment in Phoenix, sunshine and the sound of traffic coming through the cracked glass doors. It’s Tuesday. Its sunny and 70 degrees. I am staying in Phoenix until Friday, flying to Missouri for a wedding, and returning on Sunday to immediately head to the trailhead for Havasupai. The Havasupai people have lived in the Grand Canyon for nearly a millennium. Their land is a beautiful oasis, covered in blue waterfalls and pools in a heat of the desert. On the first trip I had ever planned to the Grand Canyon, I read about this place with my mouth agape. I believe it was right when the tourism started to pick up, and purchasing permits became a game of numbers and luck. Then, you had to call over and over on opening day, hoping to get through and get any date available. In recent years, they have streamlined the process with a website, which gave me a fighting chance. I was able to reserve dates during Celeste’s spring break! Six weeks after I booked it. We start hiking the ten miles in early in the morning, with everything we need for the following three nights. We will set up camp, hang our hammocks, hike around the waterfalls during the day, and laying under the stars at night. Before the grueling ten mile hike up and out of the canyon on Thursday. I don’t mean to brag, but I am thrilled. It feels so good to finally be able to accomplish this bucket list trip. It will feel so good to walk and walk and walk, with nothing else to do and nothing else to worry about. Hiking has taught me many things, but above all, when the going gets tough—keep going.

While Celeste works, I bike around Phoenix, taking photos and moving my body. I’m working on getting the most from my planet fitness membership. I’m still meditating. My body is sore but I feel very strong. It’s been a tough week. I don’t want to talk about it much, but I feel strongly about being open and honest. I think that seeing others pain, struggles, and honest journeys can connect us and heal us. Because we all have pain. That is why I try to be transparent in this space and other spaces online. I am going through heartbreak lately, for the first time in what feels like forever. Some mornings it cuts like a knife, losing someone from your life who you thought would always be there. But most days I remember to just be grateful for what I had and what I have. Some days that’s harder. Man, does heartbreak really make you feel alive. Fleetwood Mac enters stage right.

Next week I will not be posting a blog, but I will likely still be active on Instagram. Follow along if you’d like @baileytann