Crossing Nebraska

It’s a beautiful day – sunny and not too terribly hot. I ease my car onto the highway, settle back and take a sip of the coffee that I’ve just purchased from one of my favorite coffee shops. Call it a bon voyage gift to myself for the long drive ahead. I’m actually getting a late start. It’s going on 10:00 a.m. and I thought I’d be on the road before dawn – yesterday, that is. Yeah, but there are a million and one things to think about when you’re preparing for a backpacking trip, and I’d fallen way behind. Hmmm…, that wouldn’t have had anything to do with me not making up my mind for so long, would it? Karma, eh? For weeks, now, I’ve been gradually assembling my gear, perusing topographic maps, and pondering over descriptions of alpine trails. Believe it or not, making sure you can actually make it to the trailhead is half of the concern. Sometimes the trail only begins after a long trek down a road that’s only accessible by foot or pack animal or SUV. For that I rely on my copy of

I was in Colorado all last week – land of tall mountains, sweeping vistas, wild forests, and gushing alpine streams. You know…, God’s country. Colorado is a place I never seem to tire of, and yet before this most recent visit I hadn’t been in years. Hmmm… By the way, that’s an interesting expression, isn’t it – calling someplace ‘God’s country’? After all, if you believe in a creator, then certainly everything must have been touched by his or her hand. And if you’re not inclined to believe in a creator, then surely your tongue must be stuck in your cheek when you use the expression – as, of course, mine is! Nonetheless, we call this place ‘God’s country’ and that place ‘Hell’s Half Acre’. This place here is the ‘Garden of the Gods’ and that over there is the ‘Devil’s Tower’. Places that move us by virtue of their exquisite and nurturing beauty we call ‘God’s country’, while places that scare us, or bore us, or are seen to be connected somehow to the earth’s mysterious interior forces

Each of us desires a life free of suffering. For some, this means accumulating enough money, power, and material things that they might never truly want for safety or comfort. For others, the desire for a life free of suffering entails following a prescribed religious path in order to attain grace and protection in this life and perhaps even paradise in the next. Desire seems especially prevalent in religion and spirituality these days—whether manifested as an insatiable thirst to be right about that which can never be known or in the need to be favored in the eyes of a creator. A more mainstream example of this is the barely veiled covetousness of the so-called Prosperity Gospel, wherein God purportedly shows approval by blessing the faithful with abundance. Consider also the many New Age sorts of spiritual practices related to wealth manifestation, bringing the energy of the universe in line with what we want, and revealing the “true self”—which is really just me after I get everyt

This post was inspired by a visit to  Ashfall Fossil Beds State Historical Park . It was on that trip as well that I became exposed to the writings of Loren Eiseley —literary naturalist, philosopher, and one of Nebraska’s adopted sons. I’ve enjoyed Eiseley’s work numerous times over the years since then, and even if this post only serves as an introduction to his writings, I will consider it a great success. Please enjoy! Beside An Ancient Waterhole Twelve million years ago, in the savannah-like world of what is now called Nebraska , something that might have looked like the billowing clouds of a gathering thunderstorm began advancing across the land. And as those clouds grew taller and darker and closer, perhaps the animals grazing downwind occasionally lifted up their heads to gaze at them in anticipation of the cool breezes and refreshing water that they might bring. But even as they eyed that approaching storm, the camels, rhinoceroses, saber-toothed deer, and oreodonts of t