A Living Magazine - Day 90 - Goodbye Tarp

I woke to another day in Spokane. Everything was in its place. Except for funds, things were going quite swimmingly. I pulled the camera out and took a shot of thee foot end of myself--while still in my larval state. I marveled once again at the utter lack of insects. No ants. I've seen some spiders, but no six-legged friends...

I remembered that I already had the day's meal with me...

The three ham and Gouda sandwich sliders were quite good the night before. I got up, stuffed the sleeping bag in its pack pocket; pulled up, dusted off and folded the laundry bag, placing it in my pack. And, I put the plastic clothes bag that I use for a pillow in last. I brushed my teeth, strapped on the pack and took off for town.

I had decided two days before to risk leaving the tarp tied, since it was "just so". I could have taken it and reproduce the set up each day, but I told myself that I was running an experiment to see if it would be okay to leave things in this spot. Honestly? Maybe I was just being lazy. I also left my LED flashlight (the one that saved me from the herd of deer in Missouri (see "Manifest Destiny: America from the Bottom Up - 41 - Cherryville and Salem, MO - Tammy Major Southards and Sherry Biggs").

I aimed straight for Main Street, passing P.F.Chang's, golden horse...

I went to RiteAid and bought a...

I wanted to get on top of the lack of photos here lately, but I also had one more post to catch up. I decided to go on another hike to the northern part of the park, where it abuts Division...

Hey! They spelled it wrong.

View from the north bank of the Spokane River, with the

big hotels on the left, and the Clocktower in the distance.

Along the path that leads back to Canada Island.

The back of the dam.

The Red Lion Hotel pool, with a killer water slide

and a crane that I assume is for disabled people (?).

Name of the large red flower in each planter?

The foot bridge to where the Chinese Lantern Festival is being set up.

In a way, it would be nice to be here next weekend for the Washington Chinese Lantern Festival. The workers have been building this stuff up since I got here about three weeks ago. It is a state festival, so it is bound to be jam-packed. Cool stuff so far...

I came to the bridge that crossed over to the Convention Center pond, where the geese like to hang out. I like geese. I mean, I like birds in general, but watching geese has become a minor hobby of mine ever since I was in Portland, Oregon. I could sit for hours just watching them interact. I never lost the child-like fascination with observing how animals behave. But, a long period of goose-watching would have to wait for another day...

When I crossed over to the Convention Center, I had the idea of focusing on the geometry of what I saw around me. So here are some angles, planes, lines, etc., their integration into the architecture, and the textures that cover them...

One of my favorites.

The statue is of Michael P. Anderson,

who perished in the Space Shuttle Columbia disaster.

He is releasing a dove.

The Convention Center was a great study in reflections and tangential angles. 

Different weather on this day.

Conical planter.

Circular wall.

OK, just a bit more goose-gazing.

The center of the Rotary Fountain (now shut off for the season).

Kids are gonna love this festival. They already want to crawl all over the displays. I don't blame them either. These are really psychedelic. Well-made also...

...the animals especially. Is that a pink velociraptor up on the right?

Yep! I love the detail of the eyes.

Mothers taking pictures of their kids by the display.

The leaves are even thinner on the trees I just showed yesterday.

Solar crusher.

Couldn't leave the flowers out!

I had made my sandwiches before I left "home"...

Finally, I get to see a kid enjoy the little train! Usually it's adult couples.

A few hours had gone by and it was time to do some real work. I went to the library and got the two posts in for the day, finally catching up the blog. At 5:45 pm I heard the library intercom announce that it was closing in 15 minutes. I hadn't realized the time had gone by so quickly.

It was okay, because I was psyched to get back to my camp spot, where all was peaceful and just the way I wanted it. I did the same route back, getting a closer shot of the Egyptian heads at the Masonic Temple (which I incorrectly called the "Federal Building" in the last post)...

According to Wikipedia, Senmut "...was an 18th dynasty ancient Egyptian architect and government official. His name translates literally as 'mother's brother.'" He is honored by the masons, as a former stone mason himself. The building's architecture (as seen in yesterday's post) has an impressive amount of ornate Neo-classical Revival styled columns and moldings. Very interesting information about this building can be found here: Spokane Register of Historic Places (PDF).

Just one last shot from my favorite bridge artist here, Lisa Soranaka...

After I'd walked all the way down Seventh Avenue, I took this shot of the three bridges area by the creek...

Then, down Coeur d'Alene Street...

I took a right onto Eleventh Avenue, to the bridge, which I crossed and then entered the park entrance. Here, I'm looking back at it...

Then I continued on, looking forward to the rest, I turned onto the little path to the camp site...

I was devastated... Okay, it wasn't quite that bad, but I was-------not pleased. If I had seen the little punks around I might have had to break their noses for them. I know you ask yourself: "It's just a tarp, why get so angry?"

When you have the bare minimum to live with, losing anything means trouble. What if you went to your bedroom and found that someone had stolen your bed, or drove into the driveway and saw that your roof was gone? It is something like that. It is not the monetary value of thing that is important, but the proportion of your life that it affects.

Example? A lost house key. It's such a small thing. It only costs $2.00 at the hardware store to make a copy. But if you just came home from a long day at work, maybe late at night, and needed to eat and rest in your own private space, that key becomes worth more than anything else you have.

I will tell you this...

If I see the tarp in a yard around the neighborhood, I'm going to walk right over and take it back. Human idiots don't frighten me in the slightest way. I may look like a geeky, mild mannered reporter, but I can summon the devil inside myself when I want to. I can briefly switch into another person--one who isn't quite as worried about "doing the right thing". I have. I would again, if need be. As I explained a while back, I'm not a pacifist. I would enjoy the opportunity to make a point with these brats, but I am perfectly satisfied with Karma doing her thing, if I don't get my chance. And, some of this rage comes out of what I think was going on in these guys' heads (if anything). They didn't just steal the tarp.

Here's what probably happened...

They were walking by on the path, looking for a place to smoke a blunt, or whatever. They'd obviously been down there before. They climbed down the cliff and saw the tarp. They looked to see if anyone was around and then investigated the area.

What they found down by the creek was the Asian woman's trash that I had covered with her petticoat and then straw, grass and sticks, ironically, so that no one would see the stuff and want to check out the area.

When they found this petite clothing (including bras and underwear) and then looked back over at the tarp and bed area, they must have put apples and oranges together and determined that the woman was still staying here, trying to hide her clothes, and sleeping under the tarp at night.

So, with a typical, uncultured, young-male exuberance, fueled by cannabis and testosterone they went about violating everything in the area. To intimidate her and let her know that they knew she was a woman, they took the petticoat and hung it up by the bed...

The Asian woman's petticoat hangs like a totem or fetish

for the adolescent mind of the male side of the species.

 ...which they had throw my large sitting rock on top of. They wrote, "I'm gonna fuck your little ass with my big cock" in Sharpy on one of the stones next to the bed. Then, they went about throwing her probably two month old trash all over the lower grassy part.

These are the things that are fun for guys who hover somewhere below the two digit-IQ point. They destroy things and try to intimidate a woman. Of course, were they a few points higher on the IQ range and true sexual criminals, they might have thought to WAIT until this mythical woman returned, thinking nothing was wrong--since her spot wouldn't have been ransacked, and then had their way with her.

I was piping mad. I knew it was my own fault for taking that risk I spoke about in the beginning. Thus, I guess I was mad at myself.

I'd lost the tarp I'd had since the night before leaving Maine; one that had journeyed over 6,000 miles so far, been rained on, dragged through the mud, laid down in forests, swamps, deserts, frosty hillsides, ledges, fields and stream sides. I knew the marks on every square inch of it. It was well-designed, looped to be a tent, laid out as a ground cover, or hung as a rain shelter. Consequently, I also lost my two tent clips (which were hugely useful), and the about 20 feet of nice nylon line.

I pulled the backpack on and went to my fall-back position--the place next to the bridge column. As I walked along the path, swearing, and hoping I'd run into these guys, I passed a brand new tag, just painted that day. Connection? ...

The halo over the signature, though, means that this artist is paying homage to someone who recently died. It could have been the same guys. I don't know, nor do I care much. One thing is for certain. The camp tramplers will be back to see if anyone has returned to my now-former campsite. And, I have a nice surprise waiting there for them.

I laid out my laundry bag and raincoat just like at the other spot. Rain was not forecast for many days now. I should be all set. I'm not sure if I'm going to buy another tarp, since I should be off to Minnesota as soon as I can go, and there, awaits a tent with a tarp. I slept fine and didn't continue to stew much over the tarp. What's done is done. It is all part of the saga.