Jim Thundereater (dad) had us ready to move out of the driveway in Ashland just after noon on Wednesday 8/13. Aurora (6) had her back pack stuffed with things to do; Teresa (mom) had brought and stashed everything that could be wanted on any camping trip and the Wagonmaster, myself, had checked oil and the radiator, given the tires one last eye as I walked around the van before getting in and turning the ignition key. We were off for Panther Meadows at about the 7,000 ft level on Mt. Shasta about 3 hours away including stops.
We pulled into the campground parking lot about 5:30 to be greeted within minutes by our camp mates who had already set up their nearby camp. Hugs all around as they said they knew were were there by the chuckle of the van's engines and the unmistakable growling slam of the side door closing. It took very little time to move our entire load up the hill and to complete setting up our camp; one small colorful tent for Aurora and a larger one for Mom and Dad. Soon there was coffee on the boil on the grill well placed in the fire pit. Oh, sure, it didn't quite happen in the time it took for the words to be written or read. No, rather in an astoundingly efficient time, an assured and skilled small group of people did what was obvious to create a functional and quite charming space between the spiraling alpine fir, the large volcanic rocks strewn about and volcanic dust under our feet. Three quarts of coffee disappeared amongst the workers now lounging in camp chairs and on the ground. Thundereater brought out the flute and played a greeting song. We shared together our various getting-to-the-mountain stories joking and laughing a chorus to the flute.
People come together and do something. The camp nestled in Mother Shasta's upstairs parlour, a place we call Panther Meadows. We celebrated each other and the whole of us in the jokes and laughter called up with the stores being told. I relaxed very ancient parts of my child-body that had very seldom been released, a serene peace rose up from the ground to animate me with its smile that I grinned about over my coffee cup to everyone present. It was great fun. It could be called soul fun because this kind of warmth grows and develops parts of our emotional bodies not usually impacted in uplifting ways.
Wednesday evening and Thursday all day our tribal family assembled on and two and five together with all their tents and sleeping bags, coolers full of food, drums of all sizes, shapes and tones, tamborines and rattles. Everyone was happy and excited to be together.
I wish that the who's in your tribe are good campers: take yourself to the wilderness. Leave no trace, take only memories.
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