The Mountains Saved Me

Recently my cousin came to visit. We were all headed out for a late summer dinner when she commented on how beautiful the local mountains are when you can see them through the haze. We all agreed and rattled off other ranges we all like as well.

I told her the local mountains have a special place in my heart. She asked why and I said they had saved me. She asked what I meant and I told her I'd tell her the kind of long story some day. That made her ask all the more fervently. I finally caved and told her a brief version of the story of my beautiful local mountains. Here is a bit more of the story.

My ex and I broke up shortly after my second son was born. We were in a tough place at the time. We had been house sitting when he split. A few weeks later I lost the house sitting and was temporarily living with his sister. Her daughter was watching the boys for me while I worked. One day my ex came by and took our sons while I was at work. My ex was an addict. I got my sons back but was suddenly homeless with no sitter. Not only that I had no car either. I ended up trading with a friend for a cheap car. We spent our nights sleeping here and there with friends. I even parked in the driveways of people I knew after I was sure they were in for the night and would leave early in the morning. I took my kids to work with me and did what I could to get by.

The problem with living like that is it is near impossible to save money. Every meal was eaten out or convenience type foods, laundry done in laundromats, using tons of gas and bandaging my rust bucket of a car together every few days, buying diapers and taking care of the daily needs of my sons made saving money a daunting task. I was constantly in fear someone would discover my situation and turn us in to the authorities. I was certain the authorities would take my kids away if they only knew.

I was sure my friends would eventually burn out. I felt like we were taking advantage of them. We hit a pretty good groove for weekends. I had a friend whose parents went out of town every weekend on Friday and came back Sunday night. (They were building a business about two hours north of their home.) My friend loved my need for domesticity that set in after being homeless for so long. Finally I had a place to do laundry, make home cooked meals and wash dishes. I felt like it was a good trade. I'd cook and clean while we were there. After not being able to do daily chores for so long they became simple pleasures.

Weekdays were a different story. One day on my day off I was looking for a new place to park. I began to get a little discouraged and decided to take my boys up the canyon to play in the creek. We stayed until dusk because I didn't feel safe parking alone in the canyon. As I drove down the canyon we noticed what looked like a couple of fire pits to the left of the road. I looked for a place to pull off to get a closer look and found a parking lot near a wash. There were about 10 cars and trucks parked with people camping out in the wash. We got out to look at the fire and one family invited the boys and I to sit near their fire. We joined them roasting hot dogs & marshmallows and listened as a guy nearby played his guitar. We ended up pulling out our sleeping bags and spending the night in the back of my car (the back seat folded flat.)

I got up the next morning and drove to work. It seemed natural to drive back up the canyon after work and join our new friends for the evening. I stopped at the store on the way up for a few staples. We shared our food and another fire that night and again curled up in the back of my car to sleep. This pattern of my friends house on the weekend and the canyon during the week gave me a sense of home that I hadn't felt in months.

In just a few days my kids were loved by our new found friends in the canyon. I discovered we were not the only homeless ones. There were about four other families that were living full time in the canyon. One family stayed there day and night while dad went to look for work and did day jobs. We all shared this secret that we worried outsiders would figure out, judge us and turn us in. It wasn't like a tent city you'd see in the news today. It was clean. It felt very innocent. Families would come and go often with a few of us there every night. We were just camping until we had something more permanent. On the weekend we had a soft bed, a warm shower and home cooking. Since we were camping I didn't fear someone would take my boys away.

In time our situation changed but for a few months the mountains were our safe haven. The place we went when nobody else had a place for us. The place with friends who for a time welcomed us in and felt like family. The place where we knew we could be ourselves and enjoy nature. A beautiful place that smelled woodsy and clean even in the middle of the dirt. A place of discovery with bugs, lizards, frogs, birds and an occasional snake. Somewhere cool in the evenings and warm in the day. The beautiful mountains that for a while saved me and my boys.