By mimbresman
Little place: (physical, the bike, the trailer, the country)
Big place: (culture, family, etc.; my head)
Everything has its place: food, water, extra clothes. It is Christmas Day 1997, and I am packing my bike for a 5-day bicycle tour in the backcountry of Big Bend National Park. The weather is cold for Big Bend, near freezing. The sky is overcast.
The previous night I have a great Christmas Eve dinner with Mike, his partner Jim, Jim’s wife, and Mike’s full-time RVer parents. All of us were crammed into a 5th wheel travel trailer. It was tight quarters, but it was the best meal I enjoyed that whole year.
What am I doing in Big Bend? I am escaping. I am running away from the cold weather of the Navajo Indian Reservation, I am running away from my immediate family. I am running away from my father’s death. I am running away from my own failure. I decided I’ve had enough! Enough moping and depression! Enough weirdness! It is time to get on with my life and I have decided to start it by doing my favorite thing at my favorite place.
To get to Big Bend, takes commitment. It is remote and isolated, some 8 hours southeast of El Paso, TX. Big Bend is named for the northward bend the Rio Grande takes on its journey south and east to the Gulf of Mexico. Within the park are the Chisos Mountains, the southernmost mountain range in the U.S. It is big country in the heart of the Chihuahuan desert. It is a spectacular contrast: green mountains, brown desert. It is a place where I find peace.
Zoom ahead to Day 2:
So much for escaping the weather…On the second day of my trip, I am dealing with snow flurries. I have every bit of clothing on that I packed. The desert is beautiful with the blowing snow.
At camp 2, I unload my bike, do a quick hike to Ernst’s Tinaja, return to my camp to get my bike and ride 10 unloaded miles down the Jeep road to the hot springs. I push my bike along the trail until I get to the edge of the hot spring pool. I am alone. I strip naked in the blowing snow and hop into the steaming water. The Rio Grande rushes past the wall that contains the hot water. Mexico is just a stone’s throw away, and I have the whole place to myself!
I am healing.
About this practice, mimbresman says: It’s about coming to terms with two big life changes. First, my dad’s death. My dad and I were close. He was a pharmacist and owned the local drugstore in our small town of Silver City, NM. Family time was important. He worked 7a to 7p most days. The store had a soda fountain, so as a family we spent a lot of time at the drugstore. Then he expected us to be home and ready for dinner when he got home around 7:30. He wanted to sit with the family and listen to what happened in our lives that day. On his few days off, he liked to explore the area around Silver City. I guess that’s where I got my appreciation of nature and of the natural history of where I was living.
The other loss in my life was the closure of my business. In 1993, after eight years of teaching, I had started a mountain bike clothing company called Mimbres Man. There was no such thing as mountain bike clothing then. Mimbres Man was a pioneer company and received positive press as being original. But unfortunately, I was not a great businessman and Mimbres Man folded in 1997.
As it often does, my mountain bike pulled me through. I’ve enjoyed bicycling since I was seven years old. I tried motorcycling but found them too noisy and felt like I was cheating. Bicycles are quiet and have been a great way of exploring, traveling, and getting out in nature around the Gila and beyond. I’ve been to amazing places because of mountain bikes.
I eventually went back to teaching, and I’m glad I did. Teaching is my main creative outlet, plus teaching brought me to Venezuela and my wife Tania. She is funny, and I enjoy being with her. (I read her my practice, btw.) We are so different yet we are connected. We sometimes don’t even need to speak to each other because we are thinking the same thing. Two cultures, two languages, two skin colors, but one love. Corny but true.
-from Topic post, WRITING TOPIC – A PLACE TO STAND
redravine.wordpress.com 
I like how you thought about what was big Place and what was little place at the very beginning of the piece. Was this the first time you’ve done practice? If so, how did it feel?
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Mimbresman,
I loved hearing about the blowing snow/stripping naked/jumping into the steaming water. What fabulous contrasts! I have a remote location I go to every year in South Dakota on my annual retreat. It is at the end of a 5-mile, rutted dirt road. At the end, a fabulous bend in the Missouri River…all to myself. Every year. Your write reminded me of the healing seclusion of these places. Your dad sounds wonderful. I am happy hearing that he insisted on family time at the table, and that he wanted to know about each of you. It’s beautiful.
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Your details are delicious. You seem like a person with a lot of passion for life, whatever you are doing. I was struck by how you went back to teaching after leaving your business. I think it takes guts to admit when we need to make a shift. You’ve got courage.
I especially like the part where you ask, “What am I doing in Big Bend? I am escaping. I am running away from the cold weather of the Navajo Indian Reservation, I am running away from my immediate family. I am running away from my father’s death. I am running away from my own failure.”
That paragraph captures feelings that all of us have had. Thanks for sharing this write.
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When you have a BIG love for someone, it leaves a BIG hole in your heart when they die. I know. Loved the honesty of this short piece. Keep writing! Anita
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MM-
Has your loss, and catharsis since, helped you to understand and connect with the students you teach?
Does your ability to express your feelings about loss help you to find ways to relate to your students who struggle with loss and failure?
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Thanks for the positive comments. I didn’t have Internet access all weekend so I was wondering what kind of feedback I’d get.
My first trip to Big Bend was during Spring Break in college. The “Range Bums”, three buddies and myself, piled gear plus a rubber raft in the back of a 1974 Datsun Lil’ Hustler pick-up. We took turns riding in the back.
We arrived at the national park in the dark, so I didn’t even see for another 10 hours or so. But the smell was something that’ll be forever etched in my brain. I love the smell of the desert!
At sunrise, I was not disappointed.
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On the bike trip, I soaked in the hot springs till the very last minute. Eventually a guy came and “invaded” my solitude and piece, and that pretty much signaled it was time to go, plus the sun was getting low and I still had 10 miles back to camp.
A neat discovery after the soak was, there is no need to warm-up again. My muscles were already warm and ready to go. The ride back, though all climbing, was easy.
I made it back to camp in the dark, where I crawled into my sleeping bag and bivy sack for a long 13 hours! Too cold to get out until 8:00 AM.
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I am sure my dad would have been the first in my family to visit me in Venezuela. My mother is too afraid to travel into Latin America, but my dad was always looking for adventure.
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piece = peace (but I guess it could work both ways) 😉
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Exactly–your piece of solitude on earth 😉
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Ron,
Good questions. Since I work with you, I’ll answer those questions to you in person. I don’t want to post something that could incriminate me.
MM
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MM, the smell of the desert hitting me is one of the greatest pleasures of driving from back East to out West. When I hit the North Dakota/Montana border, or the Nebraska/Colorado border, there it is, the sage and the dry deep earth. It’s like coming home.
Sinclair, I liked your line, “the healing seclusion of places.” Place is so much about that for me.
Ron, I liked your questions. About healing and loss. I think awareness of grief and loss when it’s happening to us is half the battle. The other half is giving ourselves space and a silent place to heal as MM writes about. Maybe we pass on our wisdom about loss and grief by the way we allow ourselves to process it – and by the way we live.
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[…] PRACTICE – Place – 15min by mimbresman […]
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