As I sit in my black low rocking chair, I can hear adolescent and adult boy scouts in mostly deep voices saying the Boy Scout pledge then the Pledge of Allegiance. Seems religious, around the campfire in the dark with the waxing one third moon above and the stars just beginning to show themselves. Besides the boy scout troop, there is one other group here, older and handicapped. A motorized wheel chair seems incongruous here in the wilderness but so joyful also.

I’m here north of Ruidoso, New Mexico in a National Forest Service campground north of Bonito Lake. There are three horse corrals and Rio was the first occupant of the first corral. I picked this spot because there’s a place down from the rest of the campground nearer to the stream (dry here but wet down the way) where it’s more private. I negotiated the trailer and truck to be a buffer zone. On the opposite side from the campground, there’s just us and the mountains. Unfortunately, I fear my exit because the egress is up a steep rocky slope that looks rougher from down here than it did when descending it. Pray for us. Zoloft and I will make the escape and THEN load Rio in the trailer.

No riding today. I had to drive to town to get cell phone reception to call FedEx and redirect the AWOL package to Alicia’s. en route, the truck is having significant problems when turning sharply, like I’m dragging an elephant or something, Didn’t feel it prior to disconnecting the trailer. How strange. So I went to Western Auto and made a Monday 12:30 appointment to get it looked at. also dropped my bicycle off at a bike shop to get the derailleur checked after the rough-and-tumble ride through Big Bend Ranch.

Came back to the campground, Zoloft was howling and Rio was fine. Fed both then lit my new MSR backpacking stove (successfully this time) and heated up my leftover steak and yummy potatoes au gratin, sautéed portabello mushroom and other vegetables from two nights ago, adding some abused spinach from the cooler to the mix. Yum!. sat down to eat (the chair is LOW) and Zoloft managed to steal the steak! I tackled her and got it back, giving her the outside fat layer from the scrumptious New York medium rare. A little dog saliva – no problem!

Zoloft is IN TRAINING! She’s learning “Scoot!” when I get in the driver’s seat and she’s in it. This is to honor Bill and Zenith, who always scooted from Bill’s to my side of the bed when Bill came to bed, snapped his fingers and said “Scoot!” I’m also working on getting her to come with treats and love. Probably a losing cause but I have faith. Maybe it’ll save her life when the mountain lion attacks.

That’s all I have tonight. I hope my family and friends are all thriving.