Amish people work. Often they farm, but they also work in other jobs and businesses. Their church recommends acceptable types of work, which may vary among churches. If they can’t work, they rely on their families and communities for help. Amish usually don’t accept welfare, food stamps or use unemployment insurance.
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Just a short note to share an experience and a memory. Today I went out to our deck to contemplate. Usually I mix a little prayer with a meditation on some aspect of life, then try to move to what I call contemplation: just sit with God—being aware of His presence—and experience what’s true and loving. Today I woke early and went out before dawn.
In November I traveled to the Big Valley (Kishacoquillas Valley) in central Pennsylvania, about 70 miles northwest of Harrisburg. The Big Valley is home to three or more Amish groups, yet it’s off the well-worn paths around Lancaster, PA. Amish people wear their religion on their sleeves, heads, legs and feet. They travel in old ways with horses and buggies, maintain their homes without most modern conveniences and are among the remaining successful family farmers. They make their own clothes, prepare wonderful food, hardly eat in restaurants, restrict their interaction with outsiders, marry within their religion, and form tight-knit communities. Amish people believe God asks them to live this way. Despite all these differences from the rest of the U.S., their populations appear to be growing and there is a general diaspora among Amish communities: the children grow up, get baptized in their church, marry, and often move out to new places where they buy farms, start businesses, have children, and form new communities.
Half Dome, on a cloudy day in late April 2018
Not too far south of Lake Tahoe in the Sierra Nevada Mountains lies Yosemite National Park.
Yosemite is one of our oldest and most spectacular parks, established in 1890 after a lobbying campaign led in part by John Muir. The magnificent granite formations have inspired millions through the years, and they’ve been immortalized in the photography of Ansel Adams. It’s a huge park—almost the size of Rhode Island. For younger people, the Park offers many backcountry experiences, including climbing El Capitan and Half Dome. Continue reading
Goldfield joins the modern era.
Although the International Car Forest (last post) may be a highlight of Goldfield, NV, the town also boasts about it’s history. “From 1906 to 1910, Goldfield was the largest city in Nevada,” says the Goldfield Historical Society, claiming a population of over 20,000. Wyatt and Virgil Earp moved to Goldfield in 1904, and Virgil became a deputy sheriff for Esmeralda County in 1905. Virgil died of pneumonia later in 1905, and Wyatt moved on. Continue reading
Only in Nevada can a rough and ready small-town eccentric (Michael (Mark) Rippie), team up with a known artist, stick a bunch of old cars in the ground, paint them, and thereby create a work of art. Then they give it a flamboyant name. Then they split up. Finally, Michael gets convicted of federal weapons violations and goes to jail. Continue reading
We took up residence at our condo near Lake Tahoe on April 15 after eight days on the road. We spent much of the next week learning about Incline Village, its grocery stores, post office, and gym. We moved slowly because we’re now at about 6,500 feet above sea level, and we didn’t have our customary energy. Continue reading
In the Painted Desert of Arizona, April 2018
From east to west, our country presents a beautiful array of landforms and ecosystems. After crossing the Mississippi River, travelers head gradually uphill until the Continental Divide. Through the High Plains the world gets dryer, and soon travelers are rolling across vast expanses of desert. Along I40-west the country turns dry in the Texas Panhandle, then dryer still through New Mexico and Arizona. On a first crossing, the biggest impression may be poverty, especially if poverty means lacking. There is little of everything except dirt, brush, rocks, and views of landforms. After a few crossings, however, the deserts offer an enchantment that grows with each visit. Continue reading
Our van at Lake Tahoe
My wife, Barbara, and I are living about half a mile from Lake Tahoe in Nevada. We rented a condo for two months this spring to be nearer our son (San Francisco) and to visit three couples (old friends) who live nearby. We worked hard to get ready: repaired the house, tried to clean up the garage, disposed of my motorcycle, tended the lawn after winter, consolidated and rescheduled medical appointments, planned prescription refills, studied the spring weather at Lake Tahoe, and planned a route. Finally we selected clothing, packed our electronics and clothes, loaded the van, locked the house, climbed into the front seats and turned the key. Click, click, click, click—a dead battery, on Sunday. Continue reading
Big Red’s place in the garage is now empty
Yesterday my Honda Gold Wing, dubbed Big Red, left for greener pastures. We gave it to a cousin, Winston, who wanted to fix it up and ride it. I had let it set in the garage for over two years, gradually deciding to give up riding. Now I have only the license plate and the space in the garage. Continue reading