If you recall, while coming back from my wonderful journey to Turkey Run State Park last December, to celebrate my 80th birthday, I decided to do the same every three months this year.

The journey to Turkey Run, where we stayed the entire three nights and four days in the park’s beautiful old inn, was truly restful. Not this one!

I decided to go south this time, to Clifty Run State Park, and stay in the inn there for two nights. But oops! Prices have doubled. As are motels inside Madison, adjacent to the park, expensive. So I picked a Super 8, instead, up the road about five miles, hoping to retreat from the generalized madness even so. But that was not to be, given that I would be going into beautiful nature, and out into the rat race, over and over again, all three days. And, it turns out, I also had moments of self-created unreality on this supposedly restful trip.

It all started with glancing at the car clock on the way out of town.

9:11.

Oooo . . . actually sort of scary!

I was taking this trip just after Saturn began its transit through Pisces, squaring (in friction with) my natal Mars/Uranus opposition in Sagittarius/Gemini. I knew this time spelled sudden unexpected Mars/Uranus danger; that I should probably stay home.

I did it anyway. And, wouldn’t you know. I experienced gaffe after gaffe over that three day period, none of them serious, but all seemingly drastic at the time.

1. Lost my purse! (It was under the front seat.)
2. Car wouldn’t start. That dragged on for about a minute. (Then, finally, actually looked to see that key was not in . . . Key in my lap.)
3. THE WORST: Driving down a steep winding gorge, all of a sudden a strange scratching, scraping sound, worse as wheels turned. On and on, all the way down. Went to park, all the while wondering what in hell was I going to do, so far from home! The loud scratching seemed to lessen as I turned the wheels to park along the Ohio River. Then, when I returned from walking around small town Madison in the cold wind, begging the car meanwhile to not do that again, it didn’t! Son Colin tells me it happened to him once, too, and it was something, a rock, or a branch, likely, that got stuck in the wheel well and had to work its way out.
4. THE SECOND WORST: In the motel, I see that the only way to heat food is a microwave oven. I have never used a microwave oven. Didn’t pay attention to the cup of coffee (in one of those throw-away hotel cups) that I put into the oven and pressed “beverage.” Came out of the bathroom two minutes later to discover the cup boiling over, only half of it left . . . I tried again, this time to heat up a muffin I had brought from home. Can’t remember what I set the timer for. This time I sat nearby and began to read. Glanced up after what seemed to be seconds, but was more likely minutes, to see and smell acrid smoke billowing out of the microwave. Turned it off. The muffin was hard, and brown, like a stone, stuck to the plate. the manager told me that the hotel cups can only be microwaved for one minute. (Now you tell me?). I opened the windows and drove across the way to a Dollar Store visible from my hotel window to get a ceramic cup (which can be microwaved up to three minutes, she told me). On the way there, glanced at the clock: 9:11! This time I laughed.

 

And yes, despite seeming emergencies, we had a very good time, puppy Shadow and I walking many trails in three state parks: Brown County (our usual nearby haunt; we walked two new trails there the first day), Clifty Falls, and Versailles. No pictures from Brown County. But here’s some from the other two:

 

 

 

CLIFTY FALLS

“one of the more rugged trail systems . . .” oh yes. And at 80 years old, with a 14-year-old “puppy,” I figured I should stay off rugged trails. (Had I gone with another, younger, person, I would have gladly hiked rugged trails, with my companion carrying Shadow when he needed a lift.) But even so, there were plenty of good trails (see it? bottom right grassy trail) —

— that did not cut down steep cliffs, like this one, a view of Clifty Falls itself, which didn’t have much water pouring over it when we were there.

Closer . .

We ran into, and spoke with, all sorts of interesting people during our three-day sojourn. For example, the couple, in their ’60s, who had just traversed the entire stream bed at Clifty, and were about to head back to the Inn. A ten-mile hike. They told me later (we ran into each other again the next day at Versailles) that when their kids were young they always camped with them at state parks for vacations. Cheap, and fun. I asked if they have been to all 24 state parks. “Yes! Except we forgot about Versailles!” — which just happens to be the second largest state park in Indiana, with near 6000 acres, and a creek that has been dammed into a lake.

Then there was this young couple, who posed for a photo with their three cats (her two young ones in the top, his older, fatter cat on the bottom).

So that was on March 19th. On March 20, Equinox (which I celebrated that evening, at home), we went to Versailles, about 1/2 hour north of Madison and Clifty.

Versailles

Here we first walked three short trails in the Bradt Natural Area, see bottom right below:

This acreage, a single family owned farm since 1906, was turned over to become part of Versailles in 2001.

Loved the fact that the DNR has created new wetlands there. Showed one photo in yesterday’s post, here’s another:

One more gaffe: on the way home, I got on the wrong road, and almost ended up in Indianapolis (one hour north of here). But by that time, it didn’t matter anymore, whatever happened, happened!

By the time I sat down with my little altar in the living room, looking directly out the center of the picture window, the sun was setting. So it turns out that the sun sets at equinox equidistant from the north and south edges of my window! I glanced at the sun repeatedly, during its setting process, so grateful to still be here, in this body, on this beautiful earth, having just navigated my way out of a self-imposed contagion of fake Fear, to inhale the Equinox Sun’s radiant Love.