Car camping in Colorado

This is from Elevation Outdoors, a hip climbing, BPing, cycling, etc., magazine out of Boulder. The original article with some photos is here - along with other good stuff. This is a good mag. Check it out at http://www.elevationoutdoors.com/.

"Colorado has one of the biggest menus of campgrounds in the country, but too many of those spots are overrun, poorly planned or filled with fume-belching RVs. To help you plan, we rounded up 10 of the best campgrounds across the state. Some are small and private. Others are better for rowdy groups, trailers and kids. But all are set in drop-dead gorgeous locales with adventure nearby. (Photos were taken in Colorado, but are not related to car camping, Underlined places were given further positive review by my internet friend SWT.)  

Campsite in Rawah Wilderness

1. The Crags – Colorado State Forest, southeast of Gould Colorado State Forest is often overshadowed by its more popular neighbor, Rocky Mountain National Park. Yet, the scenery here is almost equally jaw-dropping, and the wildlife nearly as abundant. What you won’t find in the forest are the bumper-to-bumper windshield gawkers. The Crags Campground is wedged among rocky peaks at the southern end of the forest. A rough access road and small spaces make this best for tents and small trailers—and keep the crowds at bay. All the sites except No. 6 are reservable, but you probably won’t need a reservation except on busy weekends. Call ahead to be sure. What to Do: Climbing at Nokhu Crags and hiking the surrounding chain of 12,000-foot peaks are the choice pursuits, with several routes accessible from the campsite. Cast a fly in the bordering American Lakes for cutthroat trout. CONTACT: 970-723-8366;http://parks.state.co.us/parks/stateforest

2. Mueller State Park Campground – Pike National Forest, south of Divide

Mueller is a popular spot, and once you set foot here, you’ll immediately see why. The park’s 5,121 acres of aspen and conifer forests are home to black bear, elk, deer, fox, coyotes and hundreds of bird species. Pikes Peak is in full view to the east, and a long stretch of the Continental Divide to the west. For walk-in tent sites, head up Revenuer’s Ridge to Prospectors Ridge. A dozen sites are (a short) walk-in only and spaced about 100 yards apart for privacy. Turkey Meadow sites are also a short walk in and provide the best views of Pikes Peak. What to Do: Access more than 85 miles of biking and hiking trails directly from the campground. Four Mile Creek provides stream fishing for trout. The south end of Mueller has the Four Mile Day Use Area where you can set off down the popular hike up to Dome Rock. Look for bighorn sheep. Have the family along? Sign up for a ranger-led nature program. CONTACT: 719-687-2366; http://parks.state.co.us/parks/mueller/

3. Camp Dick – Boulder Ranger District, near Allenspark

One of the Rawah lakes

Small groups, dog lovers, and wilderness buffs will feel right at home at Camp Dick Campground, which is situated in a glacial valley adjacent to Middle St. Vrain Creek and borders the Indian Peaks Wilderness. While many surrounding sites (including Rocky Mountain National Park) don’t allow four-legged hikers, they’re welcome (on-leash) at Camp Dick and in the wilderness area. Try to nab one of the sites that borders St. Vrain Creek—the sound of the water adds privacy and offers the chance to take a dip on hot summer days. The camp is normally full for the weekend by early Friday afternoon, so arrive early or reserve ahead. What to Do: Trails leading into Indian Peaks leave right from the campground. Horseback riding, biking and fishing are also available here. Campground full? Peaceful Valley Campground is approximately one mile east of Camp Dick and offers another 17 sites.
CONTACT: 303-541-2500. http://campincolorado.com/federal/arapaho_roosevelt_nf/camp_dick/camp_dick.html

4. Long Draw Campground – Roosevelt National Forest, west of Ft. Collins

Most Fort Collins visitors stop at Poudre Canyon and Red Feather Lakes, but if you keep heading west, there’s much more to discover. At 10,030 feet in elevation, Long Draw is the ideal base camp to escape the heat and explore. All the sites are first-come, first-served, so get here early to stake out your ground. Twenty-one sites accommodate RV camping and four are more suitable for tents. Most of the sites are heavily wooded, providing shade and privacy. Local rangers say that once people visit Long Draw, they keep coming back year after year—a true testament to the area’s hidden beauty. What to Do: Fish for trout in Long Draw Reservoir, La Poudre Pass Creek, and Corral Creek. Hike the nearby Corral Creek and Poudre River trails. Nonmotorized boats are permitted in Long Draw Reservoir. CONTACT: Canyon Lakes Ranger District, 970-295-6600

First campsite in the Maroon Bells Four Pass Loop 

5. North Rim Campground – Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park, near Montrose

Photos don’t do justice to the deep, narrow drama of the Black Canyon. You really must come and see it for yourself. There are many places to access the gorge, but the north rim offers the most solitude. The campground is arguably the most scenic in the area, set on the rim’s edge in an ancient piñon-juniper forest. Instead of looking up at snowy mountains—the quintessential Colorado view—you will be looking down into the nearly 2,000-foot-deep canyon. Campsites are on the small side, which discourages trailers and RVs. No reservations are accepted, so arrive early on busy summer weekends. What to Do: Hike along the rim or down into the gorge itself, where the fly fishing is unparalleled. At the end of the campground loop, set foot onto the Chasm View Nature Trail for amazing gorge views. The North Vista Trail leaves from the ranger station nearby and goes along the North Rim of the Gunnison to a high point on a nearby ridge. Climbing the “Black” is a unique adventure too (but not for the inexperienced). CONTACT: 970-641-2337; nps.gov/blca

6. Cold Springs Campground – Routt National Forest, southwest of Yampa

Here, solitude is absolutely guaranteed. Farther off the beaten path than most car-camping spots, this is the uppermost campground along FR 900. It sits at the eastern edge of Stillwater Reservoir and only offers five sites and no RV access. No reservations are accepted, so arrive early to nab a spot. Your backdrop is a knife-edge ridgeline of 11,000–12,000-foot peaks, and there’s a waterfall and small pond on-site. The trailhead to the Flat Tops Wilderness is nearby, as are several other trails leading to the small lakes atop the mesa. Steamboat Springs isn’t too far away by car if you want to break up your wilderness experience with mountain town life or a dip in the springs.What to Do: Hike. Stillwater Trailhead lies just beyond the campground and offers access to the Flat Tops. Smith Lake Trailhead leaves from the campground and is an easy stroll to Smith Lake—great for an after-dinner walk or hike with small children. You can also fish on the reservoir. CONTACT: Routt National Forest, 970-638-4516

On the Four Pass Loop

7. Parry Peak – West of Twin Lakes, near Leadville

Anglers who want to save money on hotel fees and have easy access to the best holes should stop over at Parry Peak Campground. This lightly forested campground on Lake Creek makes a great stopover on a fishing road trip or a great destination in and of itself. The campground was recently rejuvenated, including some reforestation of pines that were destroyed by beetles. The sites are a bit close together, but the campground typically only fills up on the busiest summer weekends. For the best sites, stay left after crossing the bridge. What to Do: Lake and stream fishing are the biggest draws here. You can also launch a canoe or hike in and around the campground (access to Mount Elbert is close by). Surrounding Leadville you’ll find amazing white-knuckle singletrack for mountain biking. Climbers can access Monitor Rock, Outlook Rock, Black Slab, Dump Wall and more. CONTACT: San Isabel National Forest, 719-486-0749

8. Bear Lake Campground – Sangres, near La Veta

This isn’t the same Bear Lake you think it is. Located in far southern Colorado, the granite domes of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains border a forest of spruce and fir. This in turn gives way to an open meadow and Bear Lake, where you can enjoy tent camping in the most southeasterly slice of national forest land in Colorado. The campground is well placed along the dense forest and alpine meadow above Bear Lake. Along the gravel loop, several wooded sites are spaced out with obscured views of the lake. More open sites are in the center loop as the road swings around into a grassy meadow. Reservations aren’t accepted, but sites are usually plentiful if you arrive by early afternoon. What to Do: Dozens of trails offer hiking within minutes of the campground, or make a side trip to the Spanish Peaks. Indian Creek Trailhead starts just beyond site 9. A foot trail circles Bear Lake, fed by the streams above and home to trout. A mile up trail is Blue Lake, with more fishing. CONTACT: San Isabel National Forest, 719-269-8500

9. Saddlehorn Campground – Colorado National Monument, near Fruita

On the Four Pass Loop

Until recent years, the canyon country southwest of Grand Junction was largely overlooked by outdoor junkies who only had tunnel vision for Moab. But the crowds are discovering Fruita’s trails and the forests and rock sculptures of the Colorado National Monument. Saddlehorn Campground is an ideal jumping off spot for exploring the monument, and the campground is a destination in and of itself. Loop B has a few sites that are especially private. For the best weather and least amount of bugs, visit here in early September through November. All sites are first-come, first-served. What to Do:Some of the monument’s best day hikes are accessible from the campground. The Window Rock Trail is a nice short loop with views. Canyon Rim Trail travels on the edge of Wedding Canyon for more views. For a longer hike, take off down the Monument Canyon Trail for 6-8 miles and tour the natural rock sculptures. Or try the Ottos Trail, which drops down toward the Pipe Organ and overlooks the depths of Monument Canyon. Drive or road bike the 23 miles from one end of the park to the other—numerous overlooks provide wide vistas over the canyon. CONTACT: nps.gov/colm/planyourvisit/campgrounds.htm

10. Vallecito Reservoir – Northeast of Bayfield, near Durango

Vallecito is one of the few large reservoirs in Colorado that marries the tranquility of camping with the bustling fun of water sports. For that reason, it’s an ideal destination for groups and families. Several campgrounds surround the reservoir, but we recommend Old Timers and Graham Creek on the east side, which is less developed. If you like fishing, visit in early fall when the water skiers are gone. Anglers can pursue rainbow and German brown trout, Kokanee salmon and northern pike. What to Do: Boating and water sports are the big ticket here. Several hiking trails are located near campgrounds, leading along streams and into the high country. You can take short walks to scenic overlooks or long treks into the Weminuche Wilderness. CONTACT: San Juan National Forest, 970-884-2512"

Wind Rivers 2012

Taken standing in front of my tent - sub-alpine paradise

(Written in a vast mountain meadow called Miller Park) When I was in my teens I would look at maps and see an area called the Bridger Wilderness and I would wonder what that was like. Now I know. This place, the Wind River Mountains in the Bridger Wilderness, must surely be one of the most beautiful places in North America, if not the world. I’m grateful I’ve been here.

In one of the basins between two of the passes in the Maroon Bells Four Pass Loop (Colorado) I came across some alpine tarns and granite domes and I thought, “This is it. This is what I’m looking for. I’ll be back.” Then I found the Winds – a mountain range full of tarns and granite domes, and jagged peaks, glaciers, snowfields, waterfalls, tundra – really an amazing place.

Reflections

On my last night out, a prayer of deep gratitude that I’ve known some small part of this incomparable place.

I didn’t get as far or as high as I planned. I got to about 10800, partway up Indian Basin on my third day and was having to stop every 50 yards or so and taking a long time to recover. A man on the trail had said to me, “It’s a wise man who’s willing to change his mind.” As soon as I got down to ~10000 I started feeling better. I camped at Island Lake, on the way out the next day I camped at Seneca Lake, and the last night in the meadow.

Next to my last campsite

I’m camped next to a grove of about 8 large pines. In the morning as night fades the wilderness awakens – the nocturnal animals settling in and the sky purple over the mountains, rising to pink, fading into blue and the clouds white and some tinged with pink and a jay screeching, answered from around the meadow by other jays, some cheeping, some rapid warbles, cawing, and what sounds like a squirrel chuk-chuk-chuking and a woodpecker going to work. I’m having oatmeal and coffee on this last morning on the trail.

I’ve pushed it pretty hard backpacking, with the pinnacle being the 2009 loop along the Highline Trail, over Knapsack Col, and the long glissade down Twin Glacier, and on out through Titcomb Basin. The vision now is smaller. I think easier treks, no glaciers, no epic. I found myself thinking about Big Bend. The following is from the Thanksgiving 2007 Sierra Club Big Bend trip.

Island Lake

When I got up the next morning I walked into the woods to urinate and as I unzipped I heard a sound off to my right. I looked and about 30 feet away (I later paced it off – 10 paces) was a mountain lion standing sideways to me, looking at me. Big, beautiful tawny, big eyes. I flashed on Juana, a Mexican woman I know who has power over animals and I did what I thought Juana would: I said “Hello, how are you” and went ahead and peed. Meanwhile the cougar watched me, sneezed a few times, sat down and licked her chest. I finished, zipped up and said something like “I hope I see you later” and walked away. When I looked back she was still sitting there, watching me. A little while later at breakfast I told the people in my group what had happened and several of the men went to see if they could see it (they assumed it was a male, I thought it was a female – we later found out which it was)…

That night I slept warm with the wind rushing high above (but it was not windy where we were) and I heard the patter of rain or sleet on my tent. In the morning several people said they had heard something that sounded like cats, but not lion-sized….

I left Amarillo before sunrise and here it comes

In the morning the tents were covered in (granular) ice >1 inch thick in some places. The plan was to break camp and hike to the lodge for breakfast (mmm, bacon) and then hike out of the mountains. Taking the tent down was soooo slow, with so much ice (inside the tent, too) and my fingers icy cold and then numb and kind of hot feeling – how many times long ago climbing had they felt that way – knocking the ice off and untying lines and then the lion returned and began to scream. I saw it again, about 40 feet away, watching us. It stalked our camp, screaming and hissing 5-10 times as we broke camp. Our theory, zoologists that we are not, was that she had cubs nearby and had basically just had it with us being so close. Who knows.

As I was falling asleep one night I sat up laughing out loud, realizing that the commitment to live fully beginning when I survived a war has resulted in me living at least 1.5 lifetimes, so far.

I think of what I want to do in my life now… a little travel and being home with Leslie, being around David, a little backpacking, journeys with Jeff, but mainly what I look forward to is being with/taking care of Leslie.

High tundra - rock, ice, sky

Here we go again and as always, wherever you are, Leslie, you’re with me – through the endless Texas plains, the edge of New Mexico and over Raton Pass, into the Colorado flatlands, the foothills of the Rockies, stopping in Fort Collins - the city of my dreams, past the Snowy Mountains, into Wyoming’s high desert, and finally the Wind River Mountains and all along the way, Hello Kitty sticker (surrogate Leslie) reminding me, “The speed limit is…” and “Don’t you want to…” and "uhh..." and of course, "Hello."

David and Leslie, near Hue

Last night we were lying in bed talking, cutting up, laughing and laughing about I don’t remember what – like so many other nights... and then sweet mornings. These are the days. It’s been more than two months since the hail storm that turned things upside down for us. Except you and I never got turned upside down – together and these really are the days.

Sweet afternoons.

When I think of you my heart is full, all the love, the joy, the respect, all the fulfillment, all the everything.

And, incredibly, besides all that: http://ckjournal.blogspot.com/2010/04/leslie-retires.html

From Hue 2011/2012: After a banana pancake breakfast (with honey and yogurt) and not forgetting a glass of very strong cafe sua and a few minutes later splitting an omelet/baguette sandwich, we took a riverboat cruise for 100,000VND (Leslie's bargaining acumen) to Thien Mu Pagoda, 45 minutes up the perfume river. This where the monk Thich Quang Duc lived before he went to Saigon in 1966 to immolate himself in protest against the VN government and the war. The pagoda and grounds were quietly beautiful –understated and mossy with just a few people around and a view from the grounds across the wide river, past the plains, to these mist-covered mountains where we fought and bled, where so many from every side fought and bled and died, aching for life – me for a beautiful dark-haired girl whose photo was so washed out from the water that only the shadow of her left eye was left and now, 45 years later, looking across the room from where I write she's sitting on the bed, the love of my life, beautiful, her hair white now and here we are in Hue and I look out through the glass-paned doors toward palm trees and mossy buildings - it's misting in Hue.

I’ve loved you a long time.

You dreamed of me

It was a heavy meeting this Wednesday morning. Someone has cancer, someone is six years (!) into his wife having a degenerative neurological disease, someone’s wife has cancer, and there are others with family members with cancer or other serious problems. And the wounds aren't just physical. It’s not like there is some kind of the answer to making it through these things. I think it's good to have family, community, friendships; it's good to have faith and/or a spiritual home; it's good to know you're doing your job; it's good that you're here... 

Mention was made of Beatitudes...

Now when he saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to Him, and He began to teach them, saying:

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they will be filled.

Blessed are the merciful, for they shall be shown mercy.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

(And so on – Matthew 5:1-12. I carry these verses with me in my little notebook - for contemplation.)

_________________________

From an email to Jeff: Last night I was thinking that we're all just passing through and in the end, not many people will mark our passing, hence it's good to treasure and nurture those relationships. 

I was also thinking that here I go on another vision quest into the Wind Rivers. I think I have some kind of fundamental or spiritual connection to the Winds. To paraphrase John Muir, These mountains call and I must go. 

Love, Charlie

_________________________

Attics of My Life 
(written by Robert Hunter, sung by the Grateful Dead, dedicated to Leslie)

Listen: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_f7RqEsydYY

In the attics of my life, full of cloudy dreams unreal.
Full of tastes no tongue can know, and lights no eyes can see.
When there was no ear to hear, you sang to me.

I have spent my life seeking all that's still unsung.
Bent my ear to hear the tune, and closed my eyes to see.
When there were no strings to play, you played to me.

In the book of love's own dream, where all the print is blood.
Where all the pages are my days, and all the lights grow old.
When I had no wings to fly, you flew to me, you flew to me.

In the secret space of dreams, where I dreaming lay amazed.
When the secrets all are told, and the petals all unfold.
When there was no dream of mine, you dreamed of me.

_________________________

Last week I talked some about a photograph of a girl who has haunted me for years. Here is Omayra Sanchez shortly before she died. I put the photo up for about 10 minutes and then realized I'm not qualified to do that. Maybe if I was still caught up in service - but I'm not. You can google her name. I recommend it. 

The mountains call

Peak Lake Basin in the northern Winds - high and wild

The Wind River Mountains! It’s that time of year again, poring over a topographic map of the northern Winds. Seeing the trail (Elkhart-Seneca-Indian Pass) going up up up through forests and across meadows and on the second day out of the forest into mostly open sub-alpine terrain (below photo, right) with lakes, glacier-scoured granite domes, groves of pine trees and on the third day, into the alpine (like in the above photo, left) where it’s all rock and tundra, ice and snow and water. Still going up and on the fourth day, if the weather is clear and my strength is good, leaving most gear behind and climbing Freemont Peak (13,745). The next day is off-trail over Indian Pass at ~12,000 feet and down Knife Point Glacier. I’ll set up a base camp for a few days and wander in the rock, ice, snow at the terminuses of this and other glaciers.


Then back over Indian Pass, down Indian Basin, past Island Lake back into the sub-alpine, where maybe I’ll sit for a day before walking out. The photo at right (below) is where I camped my second night in 2011 – I regretted not walking at least up to that little rise in the right center of the photo, maybe back there for a place to sit. I may spend one more night at the edge of one of the huge meadows they call “parks” up here, then out and it’s time for a cheeseburger and fries at the Wind River Brewery and a hot shower, sleep, and start home. Total 10-12 days on the trail, about 50 miles.

Sub-alpine area campsite along the Seneca Lake Trail

It’s unclear exactly when this will happen as the work on the hail damage at our house continues. It isn’t all that important when, except I need to be out of the mountains by mid to late September because of the snow.

House repairs drag on. Even though we seem to have a good guy in charge of the various subcontracting crews, it’s been stressful, but we’ve hung in there, mutually supportive. All this is against a background of how lucky we are (no tornado, no fire, no flood). Anyway, it’s far more pleasant studying the map, looking at photos, planning what I’ll eat, and so on.

I had to clear out the attic (with some help from Ron the construction superintendent) so all the insulation can be removed and new insulation put it. Leslie and I went through some Christmas decos and I ended up with more lights for the welcome lights on the arbor at the front sidewalk. I put them up today and this evening walked out to look at the lights and the fragrance of the four o’clocks was intense. Nice.

Campsite in southern Titcomb Basin

It looks like I’ll celebrate my 68^th birthday somewhere high in the alpine. My 65^th was deep in the northern end of the incomparable Titcomb Basin “… a sight that will haunt you forevermore” (The World’s Great Adventure Treks) ”… dark and foreboding, almost like something out of the Lord of the Rings” (Dorf’s Winds, 2006). What a birthday that was, at the end of an epic journey! 


"The mountains call and I must go" (John Muir). 

Books for David

I have a lot of books – several thousand, several walls of them. About 35 of these are in a section I told David I’d like for him to keep after I die. Here is what’s there.

The Hill Fights: The First Battle of Khe Sanh (Edward F. Murphy). I was in the Hill Fights (168 KIA, 1000s wounded). Hidden away in all the struggle in the book a guy described something I did, so that was nice to read.

Refugee and Immigrant Health (Charles Kemp and Lance Rasbridge). Lance and I (not to mention Leslie!) spent countless hours in the streets and apartments of Dallas’ refugee neighborhoods. We wanted to tell some of the stories of the remarkable people we worked with in the bad old days.

Dispatches (Michael Herr). This is a real book about combat in the world’s first rock & roll war. Guns up! Balls to the wall mother-fucker.

Street Without Joy (Bernard Fall). Fall was the preeminent French scholar of the Vietnam War. He also wrote Hell in a Very Small Place, about Dien Bien Phu. I spent a lot of time on and around la Rue Sans Joie, where Fall was killed in 1967.

I Remember Nothing More (Adina Blady Szwajger). A book about the Warsaw (ghetto) Children’s Hospital. “…a testament to the workings of humanity in an era of unfathomable evil.”

The Norton Book of Modern War. British ditty from WWI: “The bells of hell go ting-a-ling for thee, but not for me...” I have a lot of books on war. I didn’t set out to do that. I just pulled together the most important books to me and many of them turned out to be on war.

Barrack Room Ballads (Rudyard Kipling). This is the book where (the road to) Mandalay is found. The last time we were in Burma we went to Moulmein, in large part, for me to sit where Supi-yaw-lat (the girl in the poem) sat “…lookin’ eastward to the sea” and when I looked to the west I saw the damp dirty prison where the donkey cart driver who took us up the hill had been tortured. His wife was a doctor, so I gave him several courses of levofloxacin as a gift to her.

We Were Soldiers Once…and Young (Harold Moore and Joseph Galloway). The Battle in Ia Drang Valley (LZ X-Ray). One lesson is never let the enemy cut your column. They tried to do that to us in our first operation at the DMZ, but couldn’t.

Never So Few (Tom Chamales). This is the only book Chamales wrote. It’s about guerrilla warfare in Burma in WWII. I think I first read it in high school – I learned a lot about being the kind of man I am from this book.

Cambodge (J.P. Dannaud). The “essence du Cambodge” in photos and words, from the 1950s. I spent a lot of time looking at the photos in the early 1980s, but the words are in French, so I missed >95% of that part.

The Stones Cry Out: A Cambodian Childhood, 1975-1980 (Molyda Szmusiak). “That night Robana, Ton Ny’s six year old sister, had a dream in which she saw someone very like an angel who carried an armful of five lotus blossoms and spoke to her. ‘Don’t be afraid, my little girl, I’m keeping your mama with me. But you shall go on living’ … the first to die were the two five year old twins, three days apart, lying silently on a bamboo pallet; then two other brothers… then…”

In Hue, beautiful Hue

Terminal Illness: A Guide to Nursing Care (Charles Kemp). I worked in hospice 1978-1981 (Director, Clinical Specialist), then taught undergraduate and graduate courses in hospice and palliative care – and most of the time was seeing someone as a volunteer. Several publishers wanted this book; I chose Lippincott because they were Bernard Fall’s publisher.

Amazing Dope Tales (Stephen Gaskin). Stephen was my first teacher. This book isn’t about psychedelics; it is psychedelic.

How Can I Help? Stories and Reflections on Service (Ram Dass and Paul Gorman). The book answers the question of the title, mindfully, humbly.

Monday Night Class (Stephen Gaskin). Excerpts from Stephen’s Monday Night Classes. “It answered all my wishes and all my childhood dreams, and it gave me everything I wanted.”

Night (Elie Wiesel). Nazi concentration camps. “That night the soup tasted of corpses.”

Up Front (Bill Mauldin). Text and amazing illustrations, Willie and Joe, fighting a terrible war, in the mud and rain and drudgery. “You’ll get over it Joe. Oncet I wuz gonna write a book exposin’ the army after the war myself.”

Journal (Charles Kemp). Short, really just a few notes.

Hell in a Very Small Place (Bernard Fall). The Battle of Dien Bien Phu. Horror, gallantry, mistakes, death in 1954.

The Battle of Dien Bien Phu (Jules Roy). Another account of Dien Bien Phu.

For the Sake of All Living Beings (John Del Vecchio). I vow to become enlightened for the sake of all living beings (Buddhist vow). This a novel about Cambodia, the war, the years zero.

To Bear Any Burden (Al Santoli). An oral history (Vietnamese and American) of the Vietnam War and its aftermath.

Everything We Had (Al Santoli). An oral history (American) of the Vietnam War.

Journeys Through Bookland (Charles Sylvester). I inherited several volumes of these well-illustrated old books (excerpts from classics) for boys from my father.

Treasure Island (Robert Louis Stevenson). I read this book many, many times. A great story.

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer (Mark Twain). Another great one.

Huckleberry Finn (Mark Twain). And yet another.

Tuna Fart Funnies (C Kemp). Notes from anatomy and Physiology – courses that were central to me in changing direction in my life.

Time Magazine on September 11, 2001.

Refugee and Immigrant Health (Charles Kemp & Lance Rasbridge). This was the first (shorter and limited) edition of this book.

Holy Bible, RSV. This is the Bible I used writing parts of the terminal illness books and related articles and chapters in other books.

At Khe Sanh

I Protest! (David Douglass Duncan). Dark photographs from Khe Sanh, Con Thien – all the bad places I was. Goddam, it was hard fighting in those places.

The Quiet American (Graham Greene). To me, this is a very realistic novel about Vietnam.

Infectious and Tropical Diseases (Tao Sheng Kwan-Gett, Charles Kemp, Carrie Kovarik). Put it in your backpack and head on into the edge.

The Lover (Marguerite Duras). A short, very beautiful book about a woman and a man in Vietnam.

River of Time: A Memoir of Vietnam (Jon Swain). A book about how “whole generations of westerners who went out there as soldiers, doctors, planters, or journalists lost their hearts to these lands of the Mekong … there are places that take over a man’s soul.”


There’s a lot of darkness in that list – and some hope and light hidden away in there. And obviously I read many other things, but those are the books that I thought and still think are most important to me. To everything, turn, turn, turn, there is a season.

Hail storm

Goodbye

It was the worst hail I’ve seen and when it was over, water was coming through the ceilings in five rooms of our house, there was structural damage in the attic, and a couple of windows broken (including a small section of a stained glass window). Both cars were trashed, the garden destroyed (except the roses did okay), trees stripped, bird bath broken, and even the charcoal grill was bent. And I keep finding other things.

Front walk in April

Goodbye old Campry. I think you’re totaled. With the back seat out and my feet in the trunk I’ve slept in that good old car in TX, CO, WY, NM, AZ, KS, and OK. It was always a good feeling to get back to a trailhead after 5 or 10 days on the trail and know the car would start right up, and so it did, every time. I loved the anonymity of it. David used the Camry to go out – it was the car he learned to drive in. Really, that Camry/Campry was the best car I ever had.

Similar view of front walk in June

Leslie and I were supposed to go to Cali tomorrow for David’s Birthday and Father’s Day. She’s going and I’m staying here in case of rain and to interact with contractors face to face. Leslie can do her work with contractors, etc. on the phone (she’s a force to be reckoned with) in Cali as well as Dallas.

I keep thinking about seeing people on the news standing in front of their completely destroyed house saying, "We're alive." It's not like that, but it’s not fun. Friday: just got word that both cars are totaled.