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Published: November 3rd 2005
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Our view
Right outside RockSprings Taken from the journals of ZK:
Date: 10-9-05
Location:Lyman/Fort Bridger
Let’s see … when last I left off I was in RockSprings- The Red Desert longing for home. The weeks seem to go by too fast for me to keep up to date. The shows came together somehow, with Megan perfoming that week- like they always do- despite the kids lack of focus and lack of knowing any of their lines. Megan always seems gets to perform on the weeks with the “bad” kids and I always some how get the “good” kids. Always. Good and bad being relative terms ofcourse- perhaps "more challenging" and "less challenging" would be a better description. They are always great kids.
We packed up and left to drive to Lyman about an hour east on 80. Seeing as how we had a whole day to travel a small stretch of highway we took a scenic route (over 100 miles out of our way) to travel down and see John Jarvie’s Ranch (who hid Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid in a hillside on his property) and drive along the Flaming Gorge.
Just out of RockSprings we started driving literally along the tiptops
of winding hills, below us massive canyons that stretched as far as most any eye could see. I tried to imagine them filled with an ancient sea, gigantic monster’s swimming in their depths. My minds eye alternating between that and what it looked like to pioneers traveling without roads in their covered wagons. At the Utah border we did a little off roading or as close as one could get to it- while still calling it a road- our tires caked with red clay matching our truck, and saw John Jarvie’s little ranch. From their we drove onward to Lyman past the 91 mile long Flaming gorge reservoir and across the Dam. Incredible white barked Aspen Trees seemed to glow almost florescent along the roadside as we entered a heavily forested part of Northern Utah into Wyoming. Mixed into the fir trees randomly they provided unnatural looking bright yellow specks across the dark green lined hills. As if they were on fire. A melding of Megan and my worlds- New England colorful fall leaves and West Coast evergreens.
Arriving in Fort Bridger, right outside Lyman, about 9 hours later, barely a word has passed between Megan and I- save gasps of disbelief and exclamations of “wow”. We’re staying together with a family of five. Two of the kids give up their rooms to us, after being bribed with a new cell phone by their parents. A home cooked meal awaits as well as red and white Wyoming wine. I drink a bit too much and an hour later out of nowhere, in the midst of conversation I feel as if I’m about to pass out. A checkerboard superimposes itself onto my vision. 6,700 feet elevation + dehydration + exhaustion + alcohol = badness. I excuse myself and retire, pale faced, to my usurped room and fall asleep.
Auditions go well, a great group of kids, as per usual on my performance week. After another home cooked dinner, two of the kids we’re staying with take us up to the town Cemetery searching for ghosts. Megan and I slightly wary, wondering if this is some local prank- and if they plan on depositing us there in the pitch black as they drive home laughing. Our fears are unfounded and we arrive at the cemetery together. They share local lore and ghost stories as we step from grave to grave in the dark and cold night. The horizons have a strange lighter hue than the rest of the sky, despite it being hours past sunset, which makes the cemetery even more eerie. They point out people they knew and we take pictures and video in hopes to find a blood red gravestone as from local urban legend, but to no avail. We do find some strange unexplainable bright lights in some of the pictures the next day however. Water on the lens? Or proof of ghost's existance?
The next morning I wake up with a cold and horrible sore throat. First time I’ve been sick in a long time. I’m convinced it has to do with ghosts, but Megan- always being the logical thinker, chalks it up to high elevation and cold weather. It has all of a sudden become fall. After what’s seemed like an endless summer for us, the leaves are finally starting to change and fall. We go running and I feel as if I could run for miles. Last week I’d have days where I couldn’t run more than 2 minutes without feeling like I was going to die. Varies day to day I guess. Thick cloud cover made us almost claustrophobic despite the wide-open spaces. It created a dome over the landscape and an illusion of low ceiling as it sealed off the land and connected with the mountains and hills on the distant horizons.
At rehearsal, none of Kaa (a snake made up of 9 people) shows up, save the head- so I get off easy (and confused), lucky in a way as my throat is still on fire. Turns out to be my mistake as I announced the wrong day at auditions, so we call an emergency rehearsal for the next day.
My cold continues into the week. We drive out to get tea, cloves and hats and encounter our first snow of the year. It doesn’t stick but that doesn’t stop us from playing in it and taking pictures. As my voice gets worse, probably no thanks to me playing in the snow, it is decided Megan will play Baloo for the week and I’ll take next week for her. Our pattern is altered.
Homesickness grows stronger and stronger. Megan feels the same way. We discuss and come up with a combination of multiple factors. No cell phones or internet this week. The fall, and sudden switch in weather. For me the sickness and snow makes me long for the comfort of home. We’re realizing that the high of the summer has worn off and it’s going to be a much more emotionally hilly trip. But we only have one more week until we have a week off in Boulder, Co. and then five weeks until Thanksgiving (
2 weeks now) and then two weeks until winter break once we get back. We can do it.
The shows go well, no surprise, with Megan performing. Another group of kids we are going to miss.
Now I’m in Hulett, WY- on the opposite corner (NE) of the state. Driving here, out of Lyman on 80 it looked like another world, a Martian Planet. The rock formations were unlike any I have ever seen. My stubborn ears refusing to pop as we went down in elevation. The Sunday blues hitting as they always do. I recognize them as such, and am ready to start another week. Knowing- as our pattern goes- the kids this week will be a challenge. And for once I get to perform with them.
Currently in Sundance, WY- midway through the week. Attempting to stay up to date on journal entries, but my internet is a little spotty. I'll try and post a bunch of pictures later that will supplement this entry and make it much more interesting. Two more weeks until Thankgiving break. =)
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Anna
non-member comment
Wyoming!
I'm in Rawlins, WY right now and reading your blog makes me wish that I could see you right now. I was in Greenville, OH a few weeks ago and worked with a guy named Keith who knew you from when you were there last summer. I miss you so much! I'm on my way back to Portland so let me know when you'll be there.