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Independence in Whitefish
It was perfect to arrive in Whitefish, Montana for the fourth of July, right after a big rain. Everything was fresh and clean and there wasn’t the concern about having fireworks they had in the Southwest.
My fourth of July was a great day. The weather cleared up overnight and we had a beautiful sunny day. I drove along Lake Whitefish to explore and found myself at a trailhead towards the end of the lake. Everyday is always a little bit better after having had a hike so I assembled my pack, grabbed my walking stick and headed out on the trail. There were a group of three women hiking right n front of me at a good pace and I just followed along. Soon they invited me to join them and we struck up a conversation, finding we had a lot in common in the area of exploring self love and spirituality.
We walked the two and a half miles to a beautiful little mountain lake and rested a while before making the trek back. It was such a nice surprise to meet these beautiful women and spend this time with them. Meeting new friends along the way is always a highlight of the journeyWhen I returned to camp, I cooked up some stir fry and quinoa for dinner and decided I would go to the City Park, on the lake, for the fireworks. The City had closed down several roads leading to the park and encouraged people to bike or walk. I got there early enough to find a place to park a few blocks away. I grabbed my low rise folding chair and walked the half mile to the beach. I positioned myself near the musician that was setting up to play and settled in for a long night of waiting for dark.
I realized this was probably the first time I have ever gone to a fireworks show alone. Yet on my “flying solo” journey I am doing most everything alone, most the time. I am always grateful for those moments where I connect with others, but the greatest goal is to connect with myself.I reached out to a friend in Bellingham whom I spent the fourth of July with two years ago, and told her I was thinking about her. She said she was thinking about me too. She was my host for the airbnb I rented for five weeks a couple years back and we became great friends. I told her I hoped to make it her way this summer and would love to see her. It was nice to connect.
After the fireworks, everyone from the beach got up and headed out to find their vehicles. It was good the roads were closed to traffic because the crowds took up the whole road moving out of there. I knew it would be gridlock traffic trying to get out, so when I got to my van, I crawled into the back, fired up my hotspot and watched a Matt Kahn video. It was a long video, over an hour, and by the time I was nearing the end, the traffic had completely cleared out. I drove back to camp, ten minutes away with barely a soul on the road. It was after midnight and I was grateful to crawl back in my cozy van bed and call it a night.Quinoa Stir Fry
Another quick, easy, healthy Recipe by Kaleah
For this dish, I just cut up some sweet potatoes, red onions, and mini bell peppers. I sauteed the sweet potatoes until soft and added in the onions and peppers. Meanwhile I cooked up a batch of quinoa on the other burner. I added tamari, turmeric, chipoltle seasoning, and pepper. I added the cooked veggies over the quinoa and “dinner is served.” Prep time, about twenty minutes, as the taters and quinoa both take about twenty minutes to cook.Keep in mind that I use what I have. If I had zucchini and mushrooms, I would have added them as well. Any veggies you like can be added. The next day I had some broccoli and mushrooms, so I used the leftover quinoa and cooked up red onions, peppers, broccoli and mushrooms. Another awesome meal.
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Smoke Signals
There is something about the feel of the wheels going round and round as everything I’ve just experienced is in my rear view mirror. There is something about the prospect of a new adventure, going places I’ve never been before. There is something about the feel of following the call of “the voice within” that leads me to new destinations and powerful new experiences.I woke up in a Durango campground after spending another Thursday evening enjoying the night life in Durango, which included Thursday concerts in the park. I had driven the long, windy, mountain road from Durango to Silverton in the dark, several times now and didn’t feel I should push my luck. I opted to stay. In the morning the air was thick with smoke from the forest fires. Evidently the firefighters decided to fight fire with fire and had started several small fires to manage the big one. I ran some errands and headed back to Silverton, hoping the air would be clean there. As I descended into Silverton there was a thick layer of smoke, resting on the small community like a heavy fog. That was my smoke signal. That was my sign. It was time to go!
It took about an hour to get my camp in Silverton packed up and I pulled out around 3pm, heading over the big mountain to Ouray and Ridgeway. I found a beautiful campsite at the Ridgeway State Park, just outside of Ridgeway, perched above a large lake. Fourth of July week was upon us and campers were out in full swing. Getting a campspot was a challenge.
There was a sadness in my heart, leaving behind the place I had grown to love so much, and the people I met there, but the signs couldn’t have been any more clear to me. It was time to move on.
My next destination was Carbondale, Glennwood Springs and Aspen, all located in the same area. I had been to these places before and remembered their raw beauty, with jagged mountain peaks stretching up into the sky and lush green valleys down below. In some places there were red rock formations like Sedona, mostly in Redstone and Glennwood Springs. Finding camping was a challenge, but I settled for another commercial campground perched over a river and the freeway. It wasn’t ideal, but it was a safe place to park for the night. I enjoyed a concert at the river park in the evening and a pint of “So Delicious” non dairy ice cream; something I didn’t have very often.
The next morning I packed up camp and headed to Aspen. All camp spots were full for days to come. That was the case in Carbondale and Redstone as well. Aspen was crawling with tourists and bumper to bumper traffic. I didn’t feel to stop and walk around the town. I wasn’t in the mood to shop for overpriced touristy items and I didn’t want anymore coffee. I kept driving back down the mountain to Basalt where they were having a Sunday Market. I ran into my friend Hinton, from Sedona, who I also ran into in Taos, New Mexico. Like me, he was living in his Van, only it was a full time venture for him. We enjoyed reconnecting, catching up and spending a bit of time together before I continued on my journey.Since I had no place to camp, it felt time to continue on down the road. I didn’t want to go to any of the heavier populated area’s in Colorado, so it was time to leave the state and head to my beloved Northwest. I was born in Anacortes, Washington, the Gateway to the San Juan Islands. I had explored much of the Northwest already, but it was still home to me, and I always loved returning. Going from the Southwest to the Northwest was a long drive of several days. Since it was Sunday and I worked on Monday, I would have to stop somewhere to take clients. Fortunately it was a light week, because it was a Holiday, so I cleared the spaces on my Calendar that weren’t yet booked to give me more travel time.
I didn’t pull out until 3pm, once again, and arrived in Brigham City, Utah at nightfall, finding a trusty KOA campground to park for the night. My first client wasn’t until 11:30 Mountain time the next day, so I got an early start and made it to Pocatello, Idaho, got an oil and transmission fluid change, a Starbucks, and settled in at a local park to begin my work day. I had a several hour break in the afternoon as a client failed to show for her appointment, so I drove to Idaho Falls, and settled in at the river park overlooking the falls for my next two clients. I found a Natural Grocers in Idaho Falls to stock up on my favorite traveling foods between sessions, gassed up the car and pulled out after my last session at 7pm. I drove until nightfall and found a free camping area in a small Montana town, about a half hour from Butte, Montana. My destination was Whitefish, Montana for the fourth of July.When I arrived in Whitefish, it was pouring rain. Such a contrast from the dry, tinderbox of Colorado. Whitefish embraced me with one of its few remaining tent sites to park my van. It was a blessing to be welcomed in this way. As the rain poured down, I nestled into Red Raven (my minivan) with my journal, grateful for the warm, dry place I called home.
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Most Beautiful Place
I sit here, perched above the rushing river, at sunset, my feet soaking in a tub of hot water. I heated river water on my Coleman stove. I just hiked with my friend Doc up to 13,000 ft elevation where we met with the Continental Divide Trail. We took Doc’s 4wd miles up a pretty rugged road leading us up the side of the mountain, until it opened up into a heavenly expanse of mountains and meadows, filled with wild flowers, including the state flower, the Columbine.I was in complete awe of the beauty. We were in such a remote area. We climbed the trail taking us straight up the side of the mountain. There were beautiful fairy glens, where streams were coming down the mountains and wild flowers of deep, rich colors were growing in abundance.
We had to take it slow and take plenty of breaks because the altitude was so high. At the top we reached temperatures of 42 degrees. I was grateful I brought my heavy windbreaker as the wind was very strong.
After a beautiful day of hiking we came back to my amazing new camp right on the river. Across the river was a very tall waterfall falling from the mountains above. I still had cell service, my hotspot worked great and I could work from this beautiful spot in nature.In so many ways this is the experience I had been seeking; getting away from the commercial campgrounds and out in nature with no disturbances other than the Off Road Vehicle traffic that seemed to like the side gravel road running by my camp.
Being only a couple miles from town, I could easily drive to the coffee shop every morning, charge up my electronics and visit with the locals.It is nearing the end of June now and I must say time seems to have slowed down. It is hard to believe it has been only a month on the road. Sometimes it feels I’ve been out here so much longer. The first day of summer was last week and I still have the whole summer ahead of me.
A friend asked me about the concept of “time going slow” and asked “doesn’t this mean you aren’t having fun?” This is because it is said “time flies when you are having fun.” I asked him “wouldn’t you rather time slowed down when you were having fun so you can savor every moment?”Time is a gift right now and I am embracing the slow paced van life I am living. I don’t know when I will move on. Right now, I am loving where I am at and won’t “move on” until I feel the call. After all, isn’t this what my trip is all about? Following the call of spirit? I say YES!
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The Feathers
Several years ago, I came to Silverton for six weeks in July and August to do some healing. My neighbor had suggested I contact her daughter’s Father who lived in Silverton and owned an art gallery. The Gallery owner and I became good friends and he offered me the apartment above the gallery in exchange for working in the gallery one day a week. While working in the gallery, I fell in love with these feather earrings. There was a whole variety of beautiful earrings made of various types of feathers of so many beautiful colors. I hadn’t been able to wear earrings for years because the weight of them irritated my ears, so I stopped wearing them, but these earrings were so beautiful, I had to try them. I found that these were the perfect earrings. Light as a feather! Oh, wait! They were feathers. So, I bought about five pair during the course of my stay there.Over the years, I never found earrings quite like these, and I wanted more; especially since I lost one of the pure white one’s that I loved so much. Even in Costa Rica with all the colorful birds dropping their feathers, there were still none as beautiful as the one’s I had.
When returning to Silverton, I fully intended on finding out if I could get more of these earrings. My friend, the Gallery owner, had moved from the area and a woman had taken over the space. I ran into another old friend in the local coffee house who told me that the woman who made the earrings died and the remaining supply were across the street at the “White Eyes Gallery.” I went over to the Gallery the next day and connected with the woman who owned the Gallery. She was nearly in tears telling me about how honored she was that the feather artists husband, had chosen her gallery to carry the remainder of her earrings and he was just in this morning to say hi.
There they were! All the beautiful earrings. How does one choose. I picked out four pair, and fortunately was able to replace the pair of white earrings I so loved. I talked to the shop owner about her relationship with the artist and how sad it was to lose her. Although I probably only met the artist and her husband once or twice while working in the gallery years ago, I felt the pain and loss of the woman who sold me the earrings. We had exchanged stories about the earrings and how I discovered them. She carefully wrapped them up in a box and said our goodbyes.
Several days later I attended an outdoor music concert in Silverton. I got my little folding chair and sat right up front, decked out in my hair feathers and new earrings and an older gentleman came up to say hi to me. We talked a bit and he asked if he could sit down. We talked more and he said “I make feathers.” I then understood why he was drawn to me. It was my feathers. I showed him my feather earrings and he said “those are mine.” I put two and two together and said “Oh, your wife just died.” He said “yes.” It had been a year, but they had been married for forty years and I could see he was still sad and grieving the loss of his life partner.It was such a powerful coincidence around these feathers. I had the opportunity to meet and talk with the husband of the artist who brought me these beautiful works of art. Another full circle experience.
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Three Weeks on the Road
It has now been three weeks of my four month “Flying Solo” Journey and let me tell you, it feels like it has been three months. So much has happened on so many levels. Friends ask me how I am liking it and if I am ready to go back home yet. The answer is, “I love it” and “no, I’m not ready to go back home.I find myself in the mountains of Colorado, getting to know the people and I even met a man that I am having fun with. In fact, I have met several men. I never meet men in the Sedona area that I resonate with. There is something about the outdoorsy, mountain life that fits me. All I need to do is walk down the street and people will strike up conversations with me.
I went to a “trance dance” on the Summer Solstice and already knew four people there, I had met in the past week, not including the man I went with. I was already beginning to feel a part of the community and the community seems to embrace me.
My desire to “move on” too far out of the area I am in is non-existent. Perhaps one day I will feel differently, but now, I feel “at home” here in the mountains. I am not flying too fast, or too far, nor am I going at it completely alone.We all need to make peace with ourselves and find that “self-love” that allows our inner light to shine brightly. Our “inner light” is our most attractive quality. I feel the more “free spirited” and happy I am, the more people magnetize into my orbit.
The true “flying solo” journey is really about nurturing my relationship with “Self.” It is about embracing life single and when we can truly embrace our “single self” we my find that being single becomes a choice rather than a circumstance.
We are all “single” in the deepest sense of the word. We call come into this world alone and we leave this world alone. We all have to make our own decisions, even if we are coupled, and we have to make the decision to do what is in our highest and best interest. Sometimes that might mean staying in a relationship, and sometimes it might mean letting go of one.
Many people won’t leave unhealthy, unfulfilling, or toxic relationships because of a fear of being alone. What I have found is that “alone” is a choice. When we can truly nurture our relationship with ourselves, we can more easily nurture relationships with others and enjoy the company of many people. We may not have someone in our life that we share a bed with at night, but for some of us, crawling into our own bed at night can be the most delicious part of our solo journey.I love my van bed! Just as I love my bed at home. Crawling into bed alone at night is my time of deep meditation. It is the time when I connect fully with the divine and process the events of the day. It has been a long time since I felt I missed having someone to share that space with. It would take a very special person to give that up.
Where I find myself today, the hiking is great! The temperature is in the seventies and the air is fresh and clean. The mountain peaks reach high into the sky and the waters are pouring down from the mountains from every crevasse. There are an abundance of streams, creeks and rivers, tall pine trees, aspens and other beautiful trees. In June the wild flowers are in bloom. I feel I am in bloom as well; fully alive; fully embracing the journey.And so the journey continues……