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These days I find myself silently repeating the phrase "by and by I'll soon be there." For those of you who have been innocent bystanders swept up in my general haste and waste rush towards something indefinable, I apologize. Maybe age is tugging at me a little more, but I would hope it's a sign of maturity and a tendency to enjoy the space of time that we inhabit.
To give perspective on our time, the closest estimation as to the formation of the universe is around 15 billion years ago. That's when the so called big bang occurred which put everything into being and instantly defined the laws of the universe. Our solar system swirled into a disk shaped gravity vortex about 11 billion years ago. Earth started to congeal out of the debris of our solar system about 4.5 to 3.8 billion years ago. Life seems to have emerged from the primordial ooze about 3.5 billion years ago. The fossils we stumble over in the Big Bend area, remnants of an ancient sea bed, are about half a billion years old. The amazing dinosaurs faded quickly about 90 million years ago. Humans broke from the ape lineage about 2 to 3 million years ago and when we discuss historic times we're talking about the last 10,000 years or so. The bristle cone pines that Dale so eloquently documented in "The Oldest Tree", live for about 4 to 5 thousand years.
But a marker it is. Each morning the alarm clock calls a mark, the train whistles a mark, lunch is marked by a gurgling stomach, or boredom, and day to day, by and by, each mark slips by like a crocodile under the water; stealthy and relentless. Soon enough, and by and by, we find ourselves called together to mark another scribe in the ruler of time called a year. Our annual trek to Big Bend has natural parallels with the geese going south in the winter, with the great migrations of African wildebeests and of North American bison. The Native Americans marked their time by these natural transitions and also used the celestial clocks to help remind them of coming changes. In the Big Bend area, when the first European explorers arrived, there was a nomadic tribe transitioning to a more sedate agrarian lifestyle. Their ancestors arrived around 12000 to 6000 B. C. They were known as the Jumanos, or, "the people". They were overrun by the Comanches and the Mescalero Apaches. By and by, the Spaniards came, then ranchers grazed their cattle, miners unearthed mercury, and now it is our time to make our mark. We are the new Jumanos. This December marks the 30 years since the first time I went to Rio Vista. There have been flash floods, burning hot days, our faces are succumbing to gravity and the sun, the drug lords have risen and fallen from power, friends have passed on, the river has changed course, and yet it still flows on and for the most part, things remain the same. Again, in the bigger picture, the changes are insignificant. I suspect that this new year will be like all the rest. "Paradise is exactly like where you are right now, only much, much... better!", says Laurie Anderson. Big Bend will probably be no better or worse than the years before. But even as arbitrary as the new millennium is, I suspect we'll manage to make this one the best ever. So it is with pride and humility that I bring you this collection of stories and images. Thanks to those who contributed, to those who meant to, and even to the folks who slacked off. We all play a part in this grand scheme and I'm thankful to be able to share this experience with you... the FreeRangers. Here's wishing you all some kindness of heart and clarity of mind in the future we call the new millennium. Chris Jefferies...
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