Sedona

 Gorgeous stormy sky from camp on our first night in Sedona.

Gorgeous stormy sky from camp on our first night in Sedona.

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 Chuckwagon Trail.

Chuckwagon Trail.

 Aerie Trail.

Aerie Trail.

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 Mezcal Trail.

Mezcal Trail.

 Deadman Trail.

Deadman Trail.

Oh Sedona… you are so… ethereal.

People go around town in old Volvos or Subarus with licence plates like

WLDSPRIT or SNCTUARY (I can't make this sh*t up), long time no see acquaintances get into awkwardly long full body hug at Whole Food, people in the fruit aisle look at you in the eyes and smile this compassion smile, and you know they are totally looking at your aura and judging you.

OK, I give the crystal/vortex crowd a hard time, but if I’m being honest, I totally feel the Sedonal vibe and it affects me (and I did feel the vortex when we went to check out the Kachina woman last spring… I wanted to laugh it off, but I felt incredibly jittery… I do feel that stuff, maybe I should just accept my hypersensitive side).

I feel a similar vulnerability here as the one I feel in the Yukon. A rawness. I feel stripped to my essence. I can't sleep. I want to run away as much as I want to stay and dig deeper. Every single time.

Sedona and Whitehorse are healing lands. I've heard it many times. Both places chew me and spit me out a shaken but more aware being.

Maybe at some point I’ll need to admit that I am one of them, but simply hiding in dirty bike clothes while shopping for sprouts and tahini instead of wearing hemp pants and a shaman pouch around my neck.

See my previous posts (and here) on Sedona for more biking info.