the mountain that looks indeed like an upturned boat. It is also related to the story or legend that developed in the community about the origin of Tangkuban Perahu. Local people believe that Mount Sangkuriang comes from the legend, the son of a beautiful woman named Dayang Sumbi. When Sangkuriang small, he was expelled by his mother for killing a dog that is believed to be incarnation of his father. After many years apart, they finally met again. This was death treated with intimacy, invited into the heart of the family home, not banished to the morgue with a kind of queasy embarrassment.² That night Mitsuo’s daughter, now my mother-in-law, slept near the body to ensure a votive candle didn’t go out. His great-granddaughters made origami grave goods – a watch, paper money, anything he might need on the journey after death. These were placed in the coffin the following day, after undertakers had wiped the body clean and dressed it in a kimono (with the right flap over the left, a reversal of the custom for the living). The rest of us put on black mourning clothes, and we all departed for the funeral parlour and the wake.
Kale salad? It was a strange thing to have while hiking, but I would take it. As we sat by the Mojave River, the trail angel peppered us with offers. I’ll drive you to Silverwood! I’ll bring you hot dogs! It’s too hot to hike the burned area! Take my phone number! Are you sure you don’t want to go to Silverwood? I’ll go get more food! We can get pizza! Have more salad!
Soon there was a roaring fire built and it was time to get supper. Whenever we camp, I like to bring a meal already cooked that can just be heated, as setting up camp sometimes can take longer than you realize. Today, I made a Cowboy Soup and brought homemade cornbread with it. It was the PERFECT meal after the busyness of setting up camp, and watching the rainbow!
Rationalizing the route structure, even as incrementally as this plan does, means consolidating service towards areas of high use and away from areas of low use. The Gazette quotes a southeast side resident who currently has a bus stop near her home and will now have to walk two blocks. The inconvenience to her is obvious, particularly in inclement weather, but no bus system without a huge subsidy-and apparently not even UberPool -can afford to pick up every passenger at their homes.
Pretty quickly, things fell into place and I found myself in possession of a mortgage and the keys to a small bungalow in Montana. I packed the cat and computer and boxes of books into my Honda, and arrived three days ahead of the moving van. That I’d been able to not only buy a house, but could afford a moving van felt miraculous to me. We’d moved every 18 months or so growing up, renting U-Hauls or borrowing horse trailers. Despite having managed to get a mortgage, purchase a house and arrange for a moving van, I still felt that first night, setting up the inflatable mattress in my empty house, that I’d broken in, that any moment someone was going to burst through the door and shout at me to leave.