March 12, 2009 - Fredricksburg Texas – Java Ranch

If there was a choice between being wet or being cold, I’d rather be cold. But there is usually no choice and I got both. By the time I had decamped at Enchanted Rock there were only about three other campers left and they had their equipment all spread out in the restroom drying. I never got as wet as that, but what do you do when it rains for 36 hours straight and there is the possibility of two more days of it wherever I shall go next. When you miserable enough you can sleep a lot, which is a blessing. Now it is better, not the weather, but me – I did laundry this morning, dried my sleeping bag and my shoes and have clean clothes. But the weather – no prospects of sun for another three days and highs in the mid forties maybe even up into the low fifties. Next stop Lost Maples.

The history of thought, of knowledge, of philosophy, of literature seems to be seeking, and discovering more and more discontinuities, whereas history itself appears to be abandoning the interruption of events in favor of stable structures – Michel Foucault

ONE is forever
DIScovering WHAT
A muddle ONE has made
Of any UNDERstanding
If at ALL
But ONE just has to KNOW
To muddle TROUGH
Doesn’t ONE

 The first night there was a youth church group from Beaumont – listening to the youth minister from across the camp late into the night. I much prefer the Bout Scouts – Troop 999 from Broken Arrow at Robbers Cave there to repel down the cliffs (they wore themselves out during the day). Church youth are always so full of spirit and it constantly gushing forth. Anyway that night's thunder storm dorve all the noisy ones away – they got on their buses and left. Both of my neighbors got thoroughly soaked and were gone by morning and last night the storm drove even more of them back towards their homes. But I have no home so I stayed.

Conservatism is alien to the very nature of Capitalism whose love of life and growth is perpetual change – Whittaker Chambers

Yes Enchanted Rock is sort of like Ayres Rock, properly called Uluru. It is the second larges granite monadnock in the United States. But when the granite gets wet it can be very slippery. There were a few times that I had to get down on my butt and scoot.

Homage to John Updike

Yet that lady yonder reads
The latest dead author’s
Greatest – “Rabbit RUN”,
Not his most recent
The best of an ouveur
Seems to come so early
It is a homage not the inquisitive
Mind a tune to the greatest hits

She has not progressed far
And probably never well
A eulogy should be like an
Epitaph – brief. She stops
To put on more lip gloss
Florescent greens and blues
A hummingbird perched in her hair
As she fingers her throat
Shades to cut the glare
Of our most recent dead
Literati

 Reason is a torture, whose subject is the agent – Michel Foucault

Now that I have gotten cleaned up and have dry clothing and bedding it is time to head back into the wilderness - how unfortunate it is that I am unable to send my missive from there - Missives from the Wilderness. But still my tent is all wet and covered with leaves that adhire to its damp surface and one of the poles is split and my emergency repairs is coming undone and there is another two days of this lousey weather. Adieu.