I’m on an airplane flying west for a surprise 60th Birthday Party for my step-dad, Craig. This is the third flight I’ve been on since I left North Carolina and the morning light is showing mountains North of Albuquerque. I haven’t seen anything resembling a mountain in six months and it feels good to be back in the West. At Portland my vegetarian girlfriend, Danielle, is waiting at baggage claim when I walk up. Six months since I’ve seen her.

Six hours later I park in front of the crooked juniper archway in front of the upper ranch house. My mom’s puppy has turned into a dog, there are ducks in a wading pool quacking and splashing, and everything else seems the same as it has always been. I love my family and the ranch. Being away from them is never easy. Coming home like this, knowing that in just four days I’ll be leaving again, is also hard but there is no place I’d rather be.

Mom is excited to see me, Adele pretends like she isn’t, and the dogs remember me and I’m flattered. The sky is clear and bright with stars and the starlit mountains lay crouched to the south, waiting. A coyote is yipping in the timbered north and Mom’s ducks are still quacking. Between standing duty, regular work and travel I’ve been up for a couple days so after a beer and some small talk I’m done for the night.

Mom is frying bacon and ducks eggs while Danielle is cooking hash browns and threatening to never cook them again if I make any more comments. Big sister Laurie, niece Lily, Niece Ally, and her father Josh are here this morning, also in town for the party. From her peripherals Mom spots a coyote 1,000 yards to the east near the rim that breaks into the river. The coyotes have been in close lately, one even shocked itself on the unreliable electric fence surrounding Mom’s ducks last night.

I go into my old bedroom and find the only gun available is my mom’s .243 that I killed my first deer with. Moving between the round corral, chicken coup and loading chutes I am able to close the distance to around 600 yards. I notice that there are two coyotes; a male has another pinned to the ground. They weren’t fighting, just proving who was boss. I spend a minute considering the similarities between coyotes and Marines as I settle into the rifle and wait for the cows to get out of the way. What would have been the best shot I ever made turns into a solid miss with both coyotes leaving the pasture in opposite directions at the speed of sound. Mom pretends to glare disapprovingly and is a little bit surprised at me for missing, but I say at least I broke up a domestic dispute.

I have been merciless about getting Danielle to eat meat for almost a year and she has said that this is the weekend. Last night she turned down some lamb that Adele had roasted and this morning bacon is another no go, but for me it goes great with the duck eggs. She says she’ll eat 6 Ranch Corriente. So for tonight, burgers it is.
She is worried that it will make her sick or that she won’t like it. Mom cooks a little slider paddy for her which I adamantly protest against. She grabs the biggest burger on the plate, (I hope this isn’t a habit because the biggest burger is my favorite burger…) and everyone else in the room is pretending like it isn’t a big deal that after four years of eating what food eats she is about to re-experience the glory of beef, but for me it is like watching someone unwrap a gift I know they are going to love. She eats the entire burger, and does it faster than anyone else. The next night she eats Corriente steak. The night after that another burger. I’m not sure which one of us was happier.

In the morning I drive to Wallowa Lake at first light. People are pulled over on the side of the road, just talking. A herd of children walk to the fish hatchery on a field trip. There is a light frost on the cut hay fields. Dark trails show where deer have moved through on their way into the timber and brush for the day. At the lake the water is clear enough to see the bottom, 50 feet deep, and if it weren’t for the reflection of the mountains you might think you were looking at shiny air. In the reflection the mountain appears to move even though the water is smooth as glass. The color of the early snow on the peaks fades into the thin fall light without distinction between mountain and sky. I work with Danielle, who is learning how to cast a fly rod, then head to the indoor arena to set up for the party.

Craig shows up earlier than planned, as ranchers tend to do. He is surprised, just not on our terms. We had butchered a steer that Rod Mcguire cooked over mesquite charcoal and served alongside his other chuck wagon banquet. The barn fills with kids constantly running, music from Bitterroot, a bluegrass band, friends a long time apart and family back together as if no time had ever passed. Whiskey is drunk and stories are told.

The next morning I’m not up quite so early as I wander into Liza Jane’s Farm Stand for the first time. If I had produce like this all the time I’d be a healthier person. A vine ripened tomato, (in Northeast Oregon, in October!) lies in a basket in total defiance of the season. I drop a quarter in the money box and eat the best tomato I’ve ever had. In just a few days of eating wholesome foods and breathing clean air I feel stronger than at any time since I left for the Marines two years ago.

I said goodbye and left home again to go back to North Carolina where I am now and will be for another two years, besides time spent deployed oversees. I feel a deep connection with the core of what the 6 Ranch is and what it represents. We are taking care of the land and the land is taking care of us. The river grass is still eight feet tall, the cattle are healthy, and the greenhouse fills the farm stand. Our dairy, eggs, meat and produce are the best I’ve ever had. The pure nature of family and place and the relationships that are developed from that connection becomes a part of you. Remove any element and you are bound to feel incomplete. I am reassured by the steadiness of the place and look forward to coming home, whenever I can.

1 Comments:

At September 19, 2012 at 11:33 AM ,  ~Melinda said...

Just Googled "Lt Jim Nash" because our CMA group sends packages to Marines stationed overseas and we just received a note from him. What a wonderful entry to happen upon! Best of luck to you, Lt Nash, and prayers for a safe return to your beautifully described home!

 

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