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Arrived at the Beach Just In Time For the Party
One thing I love about my camper setup is that I can choose beautiful places to park and I have these really wonderful views. It doesn’t matter where I camp at night. During the day, I can take advantage of the State Parks, pull outs, and other parks.
As I write this, I am backed up to the beach at Birch Bay State Park in Washington. I came here this morning with a hankering for pancakes and so made pancakes at the beach. The best restaurants I have visited on my journey has been my own home cooked meals in my camper. In fact, I haven’t been out to eat once since I left home. I have felt no need. I have a great kitchen and good size fridge.When I first came into town a week ago, my friends Bern and John had a beach party for his retirement from over thirty years as a UPS driver. I parked my camper at their place, under the tall cedar trees. The beach where we had the party was very artistic with lots of interesting carvings of wood faced creatures.
The weather is much cooler on this side of the mountains, only a couple hours North of Seattle, near the Canadian border. It is in the seventies every day and doesn’t drop too low in the evening. I turn my heater on for about five minutes first thing in the morning which takes the chill out of the air, and then I am comfortable the rest of the day without heat or air. It is a nice change from East of the mountains where I was during the Northwest Heatwave. I had the air running most of the day.
Biking has been my favorite past time. My E-bike is the best investment I have made, next to my camper. I have put well over four- hundred miles on it since I began my journey. Yesterday, while biking through the Countryside I came as close as I ever have to running out of battery power. My Rad City E-bike gives me around 40 miles of battery power if I keep the pedal assist at about a 2 out of 5. But lately I have enjoyed having my pedal assist on 3 which allows me to sail down the road effortlessly, while still pedaling strong the entire time. I headed out without fully charging my battery, as I had taken a trip into town earlier in the day. I probably put over twenty-two miles on the bike and noticed the battery getting low. So, I brought the pedal assist down to 2 and worked harder to get back to camp.Birch Bay is a great beach town for biking, with miles of beach front to ride. I’ve ridden so much that I made an appointment next week to have my bike tuned up by a pro bike shop in town. I’m also getting my truck tuned up and getting a haircut next week. It is time for maintenance.
On a deeper note, I continue to immerse myself in healing work as those long hours of alone time bring up the shadows. I continue to discover things about myself, my fears and my traumas and remember that what doesn’t kill me makes me stronger. There are times I feel that what is emerging from the shadows very well might kill me. But then the insights arrive that are so life changing and powerful. I awaken to another day, take another breath and celebrate another day of life on this planet.Here is a video of the Beach Party and Birch Bay
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A Wedding and a Celebration of Life and a Releasing
Westport at the Washington Coast I was on my way to my son’s Wedding when I learned my beloved Aunt had passed away after a long battle with Cancer. Being that the Celebration of Life would be in the Pacific Northwest, I knew I needed to go. As it turned out the Wedding was on the 20th and the Celebration of Life on the 25th. Both events brought the family together, and it was a time of reunion, tears and celebration.
As I write this both events are in my rear view mirror. I went from the Celebration of Life to the Washington Coast, which was only a half hour away from where the memorial was.
Feet in the Sand The Ocean is a great place to release, to let go of accumulative emotional energy. It is a great place to put my feet in the sand, to ground and connect with the great power of big water.
Water represents the emotions. It is said that the sea is a great place to get in touch with your emotions and the desert a great place to “dry out.” It is beautiful to have the opportunity for both sides of the spectrum.
There is a reason people go to the sea when they are grieving. It is as if they are giving their grief to the sea; letting it go with the waves and allowing the tide to take the grief out to sea.
Ironically when I arrived at Westport, on the Washington Coast, it was still foggy and a bit gloomy. It cleared up in the late afternoon and the evening was beautiful. I made lunch out of the back of my van and as I was kicked back in my van having my Veggie wrap, when my van captured the attention of two young surfers.We got into a long conversation about what it is like to live out of a van, travel to the places my heart calls me to, and eating healthy on the road. The young man and his younger brother had the same travel bug I had and dreamed of getting a van, like mine, and taking to the road. They were still working out the details of work and money. I encouraged them, as I would encourage my own son, or my clients, to follow their heart; because, well, life is what you make it. Live big and love big.
After our conversation, I took a long walk along the beach, and just enjoyed the fresh sea air. I collected a few sand dollars with flowery designs in the center, and sat on a log, gazing out into the abyss.
Beautiful Sand-dollar from Westport Beach. Notice the flower design with the crack right in the middle. That evening I parked at the Marina on the Bayside and enjoyed the view. It was a beautiful and quiet evening.
I was awakened to the sound of monster diesel trucks driving in and parking on either side of my van, idling in the cold, foggy morning. The morning at the Marina came very early for the fisherman, who talked among themselves, as they prepared for their day at sea. Somewhere out in the line of fishing boats there was the sound of grinding.
I extracted myself from my warm bed to drive back to the State Park. The park was already bustling with surfers in their wet-suits braving the foggy coastal morning, for a chance to ride the waves. I made my tea, wrote in my journal for a while and then took another long walk. It was now time to move on down the road to the next destination.
Westport has great surfer waves and known for its kite surfing. You can barely see the kite in the sky in this pic. It is attached to a surfer. He allows the kite to pull him along the waves and can stay afloat for quite a long time, surfing back and forth along the waves. Here is a Video taken from someone Kite Surfing at Westport.
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Lucky to be Alive
Winchester State Park in Idaho One thing I learned from life on the road, is that I need to stop more and explore those “out of the way” places, that I tend to fly past on my way to somewhere. I need to be less busy going somewhere and more relaxed. Stop and smell the roses, or at least taste the coffee.
Although I no longer partake of caffeine, one of my favorite past times is to hang out in quaint little coffee houses, where I sip on a Chai Tea or a decaf Americano. Normally there is an Internet connection and I can’t check my email and catch up on my writing.
I’m a little behind today, as I’ve had over a week of experiences since I last posted. Some of the experiences that were a big deal a week ago, are all but forgotten, such as the day from hell, where I almost hit two deer at two different times and places, while going 65 miles per hour. Both times the deer came jetting out of nowhere and crossed the highway directly in front of me, causing me to slam on my brakes. This resulted in things flying all over in my van and breaking my glass tea press and mason jar, I was traveling with.
Winchester State Park in Idaho That same day I was passing two slow moving vehicles going about 75 MPH and a car came up from a side road and decided to turn right onto the lane I was passing in. So I was in route for a head on collision, before the oncoming car quickly pulled off to the side. Whew!
My destination this day was McCall, Idaho, a little town on a big lake, but by the time I arrived it was so crazy busy, on a Tuesday afternoon, that I decided to keep moving. The State Park was full and the downtown area was so crowded I couldn’t find a place to park. I wasn’t in the mood for crowds and I had clients the next morning. I needed a quieter place.
Winchester State Park in Idaho One thing I realized about myself in my travels is that I am not a crowd person. I like the remote, out of the way places, abundant with peace and quiet. I like to be where I can listen to the sounds of nature, walk in the forest and have a relatively quiet camp spot.
As I was driving through the Canyon in the Snake River recreation area the temperatures were in the high nineties. I left Arizona to get away from these kinds of temperatures, I wasn’t interested in sleeping in them. It was evening and I had been driving all day. I was tired. I wanted to stop for the night, but not with this heat. So I kept driving.
Prayer seemed like the best thing I could do at this point. Could I please have a nice ending to a long day? Could I please celebrate that I am still alive after all the near misses somewhere nice? I specifically requested cooler temperatures, quiet and Cell Phone reception where I could get a Wifi signal for work.
It wasn’t long before I descended into a valley and the temperatures dropped from the high nineties to the seventies. I then saw a sign for a State Park two miles off the highway, with camping. I made a quick turn and found myself in a beautiful quiet State Park overlooking the lake, nestled in a pine forest. I had a phone signal. My Wifi unit worked. My prayers were answered.
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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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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.