After a whole summer of soaking up copious amounts of vitamin D, I must say that returning to life as I knew it is... well, difficult. It seems as if this summer has been to my life as the Easter Annals were to the calendar system, thus saying that my life is now measured in Pre Range Creek and Post Range Creek. But before I go careening off into my adventures in time and space, I feel like a touch of information is due.
Range Creek... An archaeological field school. This is a canyon located in east central Utah, near a more famous Nine Mile Canyon and Desolation Canyon. Range Creek Canyon is a hidden gem in the archaeological world. It's the last of the Time Lords, it's the Darcy among men, it's the Elder Wand to- well, you get it. It is portrayed as a large canyon that houses pristine archaeological sites - untouched by the crushing hand of development. While I cannot say that this is entirely true, it certainly is one of the most pristine sites on the planet. It was once inhabited by the people associated with the Fremont Culture, a Native American peoples. Now, keep in mind that 'Fremont' does not mean one tribe or even one nation, but rather a set of peoples with like characteristics. For example, 'Fremont' pottery is typically plain gray ware, thus where you find plain gray ware there can be an argument made that it is a 'Fremont' site.
In the canyon, the structures to be found are pit houses and granaries. Pit houses, well, the non brain dead can assume that they are indeed PIT - HOUSES. Literally a pit... with a house... around it...
As for granaries, they are storage units. Usually storing corn, but other food stuffs can be stored within as well. Within Range Creek they are notoriously found perched precariously on cliff ledges and are difficult to access - unless you're Spiderman. But if you are Spiderman, there really is no need for you in Range Creek. Not a whole lot of crime in these parts. Seriously. Stay in the cities.
Anyway, granaries are found in many different conditions; bits of mortar are left, or even left completely intact - with 1000yr + old timber still in place.
Hold on, wait. I don't intend to give a large pre-history lesson - it cant be called history, there is no written record - because if a lesson is wanted, there are other places for that. Like school. Or internet. Just open a tab. Search. Easy.
My original purpose was to say how positively fantastic this field school was. Two months of sleeping in a tent, rising with the sun, hiking all day, excavating, holding precious artifacts from a time long past... More than enough to make me swoon and realize that archaeology is my one true love. Such a simple life that was led this summer. No bills to worry about, no car to gas, no worldly news, no social networking and internet to clog up the day... just simple living. Realizing that this is only the field season and not everyday life when I returned was and is frustrating. Drowning in an environment where the brain's cogs are constantly in motion, a never ending exciting adventure, connecting to a people long dead, learning what daily life could have been like where no written record exists... then to return to a city life? Sleeping in beds, paying bills, having the brain slow to what seems the speed of Jayne's while eyeing a companion is just quite rubbish.
In short, I think - to refresh the mind and calm the soul - a connection to a more evolutionary life is best, for me at least. I have never slept so well as I have in my tent, I have never awoken so easily and rested as I did with the sun bearing over the mountains, and I have never felt so fulfilled as I have with my brain being constantly challenged. I wish the bliss I felt this summer on everyone. I hope everyone finds their passion, their TARDIS, their escape from reality to a passion that they cannot consume enough of.
Keep Calm. Find Your Passion.