Steve & Debbie’s Grand Adventure

Rhythms

It takes awhile to find a road rhythm. While we have given up normal rhythms, We try to maintain our morning time with coffee, conversation and meditation. Sometimes in our camp chairs, someties as we drive down the road. We begin each day with this routine and the rest of the day just happens. And somehow it happens just right. 

A few days ago as we continued down the 🍁 (trans Canadian highway) it was so open and uncluttered it felt like riding a train. Water, water everywhere! Surrounded by clouds and mist and sometimes sunshine that made every surface glimmer like jewels. I felt my breathing deepen and slow. Just 6 mornings into our trip we began experiencing a certain freedom. No big cities, no traffic, no hoardes of mosquitoes (some, of course) no schedule, no expectations. And cool weather!!

I love cozy clothes when camping. We were searching with great anticipation for a roadside stand. We are in a rich agricultural area and remember well the deliciousness. Late in the day we followed a small sign to find our hearts desire. A Hutterite community with horse-drawn wagons, smiling faces and fantastic vegetables. Now this is the kind of grocery shopping I can get into. It’s not easy to resist the temptation to buy more than we can eat in a few days. To trust that more will come our way as we travel. 

I am feeling so lightheaded. Just happy to look around. Canola fields stretching out for miles. Simple, simple beauty. 

The weather changes fast. We never know when we will have rain or sunshine. I love this challenge. I am super organized. And always have Plan B and Plan C in my pocket. But when I truly step forward into the unknown my planning might be helpful, but if, and only if I can let go of outcomes. The best example at this point in our trip is my careful packing…things sorted by category, frequency of use, etc. Well, in bear country the way I pack is not a good idea….since our kitchen is attached to our bedroom. So I am figuring out how to transfer all food to our car/trunk and move trunk items to the kitchen. I laugh a lot at my organized self. I just have to let go. I have to move things around…often…instead of letting them have their place. And perhaps most challenging, I have to go easy with myself when I can’t remember what I moved where and why!

I love this life!!! And this part of me that is flourishing in the beauty, chaos, missed turns, and misconceptions, and always the ever- present kindness of strangers. 

The kitchen…

And my enthusiastic kitchen helper

What you can’t see is the name on the green sign of the town we were driving thru…Sunshine 😜

And from Steve

Manitoba moonscape

Maybe it’s my second childhood, I don’t know. As we drove North in Manitoba through sparsely populated land, I thought I had landed on landscape as foreign as the moon. Nothing was familiar. The bright yellow canola fields and the lush green wheat fields that we drove through  and the mystical low-lying clouds that hugged the horizon sent me tripping in all of the lovely beauty of this planet earth. 

If this was a moonscape what would tonight’s  airbnb hosts look like. Surely some form of aliens. 

Almost true! She was an elf from Bogota Colombia and he was a huge farm boy from Alberta Canada. An unlikely match. He wrapped us up in his big smile and laughter while she confessed that she really was not too fond of the human species. 

I unwrapped myself from a fantasy of alien travel and asked them to tell us their story. She was a Reiki master, language teacher and Tarot card reader who traveled back-and-forth between Manitoba and the mountain areas of Columbia. He was an artisan, woodcarver and farm equipment sales person. They met when he took a Spanish lesson from her.

Their small village life was paradoxically both simple and complex. During the pandemic Manitoba closed its borders to casual travelers unless they could make the 9 Hour drive from one province to the next. And they were part of this fragile interconnected earth community. His farm equipment was designed in Germany made in France delivered to Hamilton Ontario. Their lettuce was grown in California, their blueberries came from  South America, their hot sauce from Mexico…..and 50 miles down the road was a potato factory that shipped out 300,000,000 pounds of frozen potato products every year. The 500 car train that buzzed their house 100 yards away carried gasoline and oil from Alberta oil fields to the eastern population areas. 

Canada they told me was a land of immigrants. Open to many nationalities and recently a landing place for Ukrainian refugees. Canada needs workers willing to brave the 6 months of winter with some 30 below weather. 

And in a part of the world that had few humans, I could see the world differently. Maybe I was the alien who had landed in a land of strange beauty in backcountry Canada.  I see a world that is fertile and abundant and feel the presence of the great Mother who nurtures us. 

Heading today into black bear country at riding mountain national park, a tiny Jewel of a park with lots of wildlife. Why did Debbie tell me, keep my fresh candy bar wrapper in my pocket??

Try watching this Canadian sit-com. It’ll make ya smile)

We found Corner Gas! And guess where?  Off the beaten path in of all places, Erickson, Manitoba. 

We pulled into Corner Gas at an angle. Just enough room to squeeze in. Full service at no extra cost. I walked inside, met by a fiercely cheerful woman with a mischievous grin. She’d seen us pull in and was waiting. “That’s a real nice little guy you got there, eh?”  Her smile broadenened even more and ended with a chuckle. She enjoyed her play with words so much she walked outside to try it out with Steve. We all smiled and chuckled. 

Steve’s relatives settled in South Dakota, but his great-grandmother was an indigenous healer from a French community somewhere east of Manitoba. They, like many others traveled across the border to claim land in the Dakota grasslands. 40 acres if you stayed 5 years and planted trees. They lived in caves dug into mounds. The only protection from strong winds and bitterly cold winters. Steve built his first home for less than $20 with a plan from Mother Earth News. It had a dirt floor. He loved it. They say the acorn doesn’t fall too far from the tree!

Well anyway, Corner Gas was situated opposite The Iris Cafe. We just had to mosey over there for a cup of tea and slice of fresh-baked banana bread. 

Oh what a beautiful morning, oh what a beautiful day. There I go thinking in lyrics again.

Sorry we have been out-of-touch. The time really does pass so quickly. And as we crossed Manitoba and Saskatchewan we were totally absorbed in the changing scenery and continued good fortune to meet interesting people everywhere. Having a teardrop camper is better than having a dog in a dog park. Sooo easy to meet folks.

I am sitting on a picnic table at the Registration Center of Jasper National Park, Alberta. We snagged a campsite at the Whistler Campground. TIMING IS EVERYTHING!  Everything, everywhere is full, but somehow we have managed to visit 4 National and 2 Provincial Parks. As well as 3 HipCamps and 2 Wal-Mart parking lots. 

Yes!  We feel more than extremely lucky. 

So in no particular order here’s a glimpse of our road life for you…

“Drive According to Conditions” (near Kenora).  One of our favorite road signs. So gentle. It assumes the driver is intelligent enough to make good decisions.

Listening to a podcast we heard we should  stop being predictable…try something new…take a risk…”maybe drive west without a map”. Seriously, the universe just keeps affirming us.  

We saw a HUGE sign declaring “CENTER OF CANADA” at 12:30 on Monday, July 25th. Pretty exciting to know exactly when you are in the very middle of something!

My new favorite saying came about when I missed a chance to take a picture of the beautiful Current River. I thought, it’s really true that once you cross over the current river, it becomes a thing of the past 

Just asking one good question can open up a whole new world! We might find out our host is an amazing artist, our waitress knows lots about Ted Lasso, the couple on bikes give us the information we need to choose whether to head west or divert north for awhile, or you ask about buying veggies and end up with a dozen free eggs (seems like everybody we meet has 40 acres and chickens). Yep, one good question is a great practice.

And from Steve. PERSONALS

Wanted: travel companion who likes to walk on the beach and look at the stars!

Must smell good and enjoy complements. Must be able to roll with the punches. She is a magnet for Joy.

 Also must Sleep well in a tiny camper and see joy in the moment. Vision impairment a plus. 

Delights in the unexpected. Makes home wherever she is. Very private and somewhat introverted. But talks easily in social situations. A good planner and good conversationalist. Sees the big picture.

Call 919-548-9045

CANCEL! POSITION FILLED

The landscape is changing. The fields have taller grasses and more clusters of trees. Along the Trans-Canadian Highway we see lots of signs for par 3 golf courses. Needing a stretch we pull over and find ourselves parked right beside the tee for #7. Golf cart path and sidewalk are one and the same!  Two carts roll up with golfers ready to chat. I tell them I met my first Canadians while running a pro shop at a golf course in Greensboro, NC. Lots of Canadians golf their way to Florida and back in the winter months. They recommend some camping and fishing spots nearby. And a “cute little town” called Saskatoon. They even offer to let me drive their first shot down the fairway. These people are so darn friendly. 

We pass up the offer to tee-off and it’s on to Saskatoon. ETA 6:00 pm. 

Perfect. We haven’t eaten out in awhile so it’s time to treat ourselves to a nice meal. This “cute little town” can’t be too little based on the number of restaurants or too mainstream based on the diversity of culinary choices. We decide to try Odd Couple for Asian Fusion. Expecting a smallish town we were shocked to find ourselves headed into a sizable city at the busiest time of day. Parking was tough. 

But we found parking (Steve is a magician). Found the restaurant. And found ourselves on a 1-hour waitlist!  

Okay, no problem. We need a walk. And this very eclectic, very diverse area is also very interesting.  To say the least. Feels a little bit like an artsy college town but with a down on its luck vibe. Lots of people on bikes. More than a few people without shirts or shoes. And a couple of people talking to themselves or yelling at some unseen or invisible annoyance. I recognize this neighborhood as one with a high homeless population. I can’t imagine how the homeless survive a winter here. I ponder the emotional impact of these past two years of isolation. At first I feel a little uncomfortable. Then I begin to look closer and see how this community seems to have created a place of acceptance and safety. There’s a certain sense of wholeness. As if to say, this too is part of our town.  Looking closer I see the street art and sculptures and graffiti differently. 

We need gas which requires Steve back the little guy out of a really tight spot. I get out to direct Steve and hopefully slow traffic. An upcoming car kindly stops. The driver rolls down her window and says “you’re from NC. I used to live in Asheville, but I was born in Sanford”

Imagine that!!! Sanford is 30 minutes from our home in Pittsboro. 

She really wanted t keep talking, but here we are in the middle of the road blocking traffic. And Steve looking in his rearview mirror with no clue why I hadn’t jumped back in the car. All I could say in this moment of meeting was “Sorry . I have to run now” 

We got gas and found another parking spot…right in front of the Salvation Army’s Homeless Shelter just as my text pinged “your table is ready now” and walked half a block to the restaurant. 

Odd Couple was the happening place of Saskatoon. Chic and trendy and filled to capacity. Deservedly so. The food was perfection. Steve had Pad Thai. I chose TROUT.  Oh my goodness!!! The best trout I have ever tasted!!! How did they cook it?  I don’t know. I can’t even guess. But, WOW!

City life doesn’t wear well on us these days so we head back out to the wide open spaces. Oh give me a home where the Buffalo (bison) roam. 

Footnote: the whole time we were driving to Saskatoon I was remembering scenes from Schmigadoon. A Broadway musical spoof on Apple+. And guess what, it was filmed in Vancouver 😜

And from Steve. Class Clown.

The inspiration for writing was camping on a hillside in Alberta where we got a taste of the northern lights and a 360 degree light show. 

I am peaceful….. a cool breeze blows across my face. It’s an evening of grace from the worries of everyday concerns. No need to be clever or funny or dramatic or to have a problem. And I always have needed problems. 

When I was 18 my exchange student brother brought life into our nuclear family he was a Dutchman from Holland named Jelle and he played tennis ping-pong and soccer. He was more the extrovert I was the introvert.

 His idea of a good time was a few beers with friends and flirting if there were any women around. Mine was smacking a tennis ball or studying for a test.

I was extremely unknowledgeable around the ladies.  I couldn’t imagine why these mysterious creatures would be interested in me and if they were, what would we do? The safety of school sports and my family was enough for me. In a group of people I often was the clown. I felt honored when the votes were tallied for funniest in our senior class 

ChipHolton 246

Tommy Barnes 12

Steve Erickson 9

Solid third place finish for funniest in my class.  When Jelle left after his year of study he gave me a large poster of a clown with a smiling face painted and a tear falling from his eye. 

Prophetic.  a large portion of my early midlife were opening my emotions and the well of tears 

.Every stage of life comes new learnings and this stage is to continue to allow myself to experience abundance and peacefulness but at a deeper level.

Debbie: Saturday, August 6. Our last full day on the east-west leg. Once again, travel karma smiles upon us. Saved us from going East by going…we don’t know? But somehow, on a road with no crossroads we lost Hwy 23-S and ended up on Hwy 6-W. Crossed an extra ferry and extra mountain and found ourselves in the most wildernessy of wildernesses we have yet to traverse. I smile as I remember the podcast recommendation. Go west without a map.

So here we are with no map, no gps, no cell signal, no signs with names of towns. There are no towns. Just a beautiful, sunny day near the ever-present Columbia River. Switch-back roads, towering trees and steep declines. Well, at least we have plenty of gas. How bad can things go if we’re headed west toward Vancouver???

We drive rather quietly. Not truly nervous, but certainly with nervous energy. Looking back things always seem less lost than when you’re looking forward with no sign of humanity nearby and none of the tools we usually use for locating ourselves. Just when it seemed we would never emerge from the mountain wilderness, don’t ya know it, we entered a lush valley with one gas station and enough signal to confirm our suspicions. We had no idea how we got “here” but here was going to work out just fine. Seems that rather than cross over the mountain we surfed the spine 😜. What a ride!  

It’s a weekend so camping spots are going to be hard to find. We have learned alot about asking for help so as soon as we see that Lumby, B.C. has an info center we pull over to check it out. As usual everything is full. But we can try the Lion’s Club Campground overflow section. Maybe they’ll make space for us. 

Of course they do!

Sheryl, the host says we can pull up under that big tree. $20, showers, and a short walk to town. Farmers Market in the morning. 

There’s something wonderful about sipping coffee under a big tree. Listening to neighboring campers speaking a variety of languages. Smelling the breakfasts being cooked nearby and trying to identify each bit of odiferous-ness. Sun warming my back as I soak in the promise of one more day of sweet surprises in this little slice of B.C.heaven

I can’t believe how easy it is to roll onto a grassy space under a magnificent shade tree and call it home. 

And from Steve The Tao of Camping

Our little guy lacks a dressing room. To dress it helps to find a private space outdoors and be able to stand on one foot as you dress. ITS IMPORTANT IN LIFE TO HAVE BALANCE .

We have been sampled by mosquitoes from Toronto to British Columbia. After our first terrifying experience in a cow pasture in Western Ontario we have learned that DETACHED PRESENT MOMENT AWARENESS is the best strategy for these buggers. IT DOESNT HELP TO TAKE IT PERSONALLY  

When you live with the same person 24/7 roughly 3’ apart, it’s good to remember OUR THOUGHTS ARE NOT REAL.

If you are an American bullfrog who accidentally ended up IN CANADA just know that JUST BECAUSE YOU AREN’T WANTED DOESN’T MEAN YOU AREN’T LOVABLE. 

Arrived! We made it all the way to Tacoma without reservations. 3 times we barely squeezed into a campground. 2 times we were low on gas. 1 time we were truly lost. LOTS of U-turns. But hey, we did it!!! And it was truly a Grand Adventure. After a respite with our west coast family we’re about to hit the road again. Time for re-direction. And time for a new theme. We did the whole Getting Lost thing. Enough of that. For the West to East leg we’re going with Hidden Treasure. Seems appropriate since we leave in the morning and our chosen route is still hidden to us! When we know where we’re going we will let you know.

The last few days in Canada we were road giddy. Everything seemed funny. Nothing seemed exactly real. And we weren’t really sure we would know how to function in the real world anyway. One day I was reading in the little guy when Steve hopped in and said he needed some alone time. Here’s how our interaction went:

Steve: Hey Debbie, I REALLY need some alone time. 

Debbie: hmmm Okay. I will roll over and not talk to you for an hour. 

Steve: Okay (dubious since their bodies are 6” apart)

Debbie: (1 hour later, rolls over toward Steve)

Oh Hi, I forgot you were there. Was that enough alone time?

Steve: Yes, just right

It’s been a great visit here in Washington state. More fun swimming, hiking, watching movies and playing with grandchildren. Speaking of movies, if you have a chance to see Marcel the Shell with Shoes, GO SEE IT!!! So good. 

I had an amazing side trip with our daughter-in-law, Rosi. Backpacking & yoga retreat at Packwood Lake near Mt Rainier. Whew!

Pickleball and Flower Gardens and Phase 10 with the gang. And one of our best camping spots ever…in their yard just a short walk to home sweet home

And from Steve….

RANDOM IMPRESSIONS OF OUR TIME IN CANADA AS WE CROSS THE BORDER

Why isn’t Canada real?

A. It’s all maple leaf.  

(Make belief)

What constitutes 50% of Canada?

A. The letter a

One of my friends wrote me that no one likes to hear about other peoples vacations. No One person wants to hear but many of us will never make the trip through the Canadian wilds with a tiny camper pulled by a Toyota Corolla with 305,000 miles on the odometer

Anyway I loved reading travel stories when I was younger and it is fun to write  one. John Steinbeck wrote Travels with Charley. And you have to wonder why did he make the trip with his  Poodle instead of his wife. Charles Kuralt televised ON THE ROAD and yes he was on the road a lot since he had a family in Montana and one back east that didn’t know about each other. Now that’s a great travel story. 

I’m uncomfortable getting lost. Anxiety creeps in. Will these mountains ever end. I didn’t know that British Columbia was a rainforest. Will we ever see a gas station? 133 km later we did.

We don’t have to go to Mars to find a new place to colonize. There are only 35 million people living in Canada and 15 million live within 100 miles of Toronto. That leaves a huge country with only half the population of California to settle in!

Yes it’s six months of good weather and six months of winter. But we saw a documentary of a home in Sweden covered by a glass bubble that created the climate of southern Italy IN A HARSH NORTHERN CLIMATE with grapes growing next to their windows.  

We are just a house bubble invention away from colonizing Canada. 

What are the four seasons in Canada?

A.  Almost winter, ,winter, ,still winter and road construction 

Some of those cheery Canadians told us they are a bit outraged by their governments handling of the pandemic, outrageous gas prices, economy turned upside down, and unfair taxation. It takes a lot to get them pissed.

How do you get a Canadian to apologize? Step on their foot

This is a nation of team players not complainers, good sports, people who care about their neighbors.  As with the rest of the world the pandemic has taken a toll here

How do you get 20 Canadians out of the pool quickly?

A.  Say “Would you please get out of the pool.”

It is a delightfully multi colors, multicultural and tolerant population. Go to the Canadian Rockies and the second largest cultural group is Japanese, in Manitoba there are eastern European groups,including lots of Ukrainians, Toronto is a smorgasbord of world culture.

The one thing you don’t see a lot of in Canada is Americans, and Mexican restaurants. We haven’t eaten Mexican food this whole trip but we have eaten some cheesy greasy slabs of French fries smothered in gravy.(poutine)

When my Canadian friend gets out of bed…

… he shaves, showers, gets dressed and eats a big plate of fries with cheese curds and gravy.

That’s his morning poutine.

Right before we turned into the border crossing Debbie threw away our funny cigarettes and gave a beautiful tomato to the friendly cashier at the gas station. When we went into Canada they asked us if we had any guns when we went into the US they asked us if we had any fruits and vegetables. Go figure!

Hidden Treasures – all about the things we find within, without and beyond?!?

Which way shall we point ourselves? Due East?  East by Southwest? Retrace our Canadian route?

I am afraid to say Southwest out loud. Three times we have planned to visit the Southwest. Each time wildfires prevented our developing plans. What are the treasures I am hoping for? Truthfully I am not quite sure quite what to expect. And that’s a good thing. 

Today is Thursday, August 18th (need a little reality check) 

So on Monday (15th) we decided to leave Tacoma on Wednesday. Headed for Santa Fe.

On Tuesday morning we learned that excessive rains and flooding had closed roads we planned to travel. And more rain expected. 

On Tuesday night at 9:00 pm we decided to head for Pepperdine University (Malibu) and play in a pickleball tournament. 

At 1:00 am, neither of us able to sleep, we changed drastically and decided to travel the Old North, Route #2 across Montana, etc. 

At 5:00 am Steve woke me up and said. Let’s get going. We’re headed for Malibu. And that is how we roll. Sometimes we just flip a coin when we need a decision.

5:30 am. And we’re off!!!

Good morning Oregon. 

Using backroads instead of Highway 5. Feeling familiar with railroad tracks to one side and mountains or some body of water to the other. Constantly reacquainting ourselves with the Columbia River. 

Someone I met along a hike in an alpine meadow enthusiastically beseeched me to travel the Oregon coast. Just do it, he said!

So we meandered about, slowly working our way to Highway 101. Again, without a map until Reedsport where I found a most helpful National Forest Service info center. I love those women!  They gave me maps and smiles and ideas. 

And that is how we came to land gently on our first day back on the road. Randomly landing in the Oregon Sand Dunes. In a beautiful, quiet, inexpensive NFS campground. Sleeping well after playing in the dunes a bit. Dipping in the lake at sunset. And sharing a little wine and sky gazing. 

We will just have one night in Oregon. But what a beauty. And today the treasure I hope for is crab cakes!!!! I dreamt about crab cakes a few nights ago. This dream is about to come true. I can taste it. 😋

THE INNER-EXPERIENCE 

After 74 years I decided to take up meditation 6 days ago. 

In my meditation this morning I was floating in space observing my breath move in and out   Living in a world that was infinite and timeless. 

After meditation I had a rare moment. My senses told me that I was in a grove of hedges surrounded by quiet. It’s rare to be in a campground with no noise……so peaceful. The thought passes through me. Will I ever have an experience this wonderful again.

We are driving through the western United States where we see lakes, rivers, lagoons and Jack Ripper Park. the state is Oregon

We are searching for the Pacific Ocean. At dusk We know we are less than a few football fields from the Pacific Ocean. We can hear it, but we can’t see it or find a way to get to it. 

Sometime maybe 10,000 years ago when the glaciers retreated, Oregon coast got dumped with 50 foot high sand dunes that are soft and squishy to the foot. If you cross the dunes you are met with 

20 foot thick dense hedges that block the way and your view of the pacific Frustrated we walk aimlessly down roads looking for passage to the water as the fog licks our sandals as it pads by us 

Instead we pass a campground where almost every campsite has a couple ATV ( dune buggies) These rovers cut through the deep sand and roar up and down the beach. If my friend Greg we’re here we would all be flying across the sand leaving her leaping into the air as we hurtle all the dunes.

The aging process has some remarkable features. With very little effort you can forget almost everything including your worries. And experience wonder. 🎶🎈🎶🎶This morning I looked at Debbie and couldn’t remember who she was. I had a memory of yesterday when she barked at me for putting her apple pie in the backseat and the sweet thank you’s she said to me as we went to sleep. Does aging turn us all into mystical child consciousness.

From Steve: Danger Signs

Today I took a shower in the redwood forest. The showerhead was only 3 foot high and was used for filling up water jugs. I squatted under the cold water and it poured over my head and naked body like a waterfall. Too early for anyone to be up! I begin to look around and see and feel the beauty of this sanctuary. Our little camp chairs tilt upward and we take in the sunlight. The road is Avenue of the Giants and the hidden treasure is Humboldt State Park in northern California.

The morning mosquitoes have set in so I need to write fast. Why is there so much bear talk in all these campgrounds. I have Imagined hundreds of black bears and grizzly‘s coming out of nowhere to scare the living crap out of me. Yesterday we bought a bear horn and bells for ankles and still no bears yet.  I have seen millions of mosquitoes why not huge signs and warnings about mosquitoes,THE REAL MENACE OF THE WOODS. In Oregon on almost every Cove we saw signs warning us of tsunami‘s,……..REALLY.  My understanding of tsunami‘s is by the time you see one it’s all over. As we went into the Pacific in south Oregon there were numerous signs to watch for sneaker waves. I couldn’t help but imagine a wave with sneakers on. 👟👟 

I would like to see signs that say 

DANGER : HUMAN BEINGS IN THE AREA

And as you drive into town, WATCH OUT FOR CAPITALISTS

Or at nearly every intersection, DANGER FAST FOOD!

In super markets, CAUTION : WE HAVE NO IDEA WHAT HAS BEEN DONE TO THIS FOOD

Anyway it’s fun being dwarfed in this land of Giants. The redwoods feel like parents watching us over us. Reminding us to slow down and not be in a hurry to get anywhere. After all they say, we’ve been here for 150 years, what’s the rush to see new places, it’s quiet here, enjoy the sunshine.

Sometime during the day I have a hankering for home, missing home, wanting to be home. Sort of a paradox, we left a week ago and we are only 400 miles down the road. Driving just doesn’t appeal much. Sitting does.

Did you see the DAILY NEWS SPECIAL. COUPLE TRAPPED IN REDWOOD FOREST FOR 60 years

Still had plenty of food and shelter! 

“We wanted to go home but it was too far to walk and we decided to wait until we felt like driving.” Steve Erickson claimed to be 134 years old and his wife Debbie Good was 128. When asked about their longevity, they replied “”it’s not unusual, seems like everything lives this long out here!

And from DEBBIE The Land of Giants

What luxury. 2 nights along the Rogue River at Lobster Creek. 10 miles from the Pacific Ocean. Kayak on the river in the morning and swim in the ocean in the evening. Time to cook a great meal and even put out the tablecloth. Fine dining for sure. A campfire perfect for reflecting in the day’s travel and dreams of what’s next. 

This southern jaunt down 101 is so easy and so beautiful. But there are merits to beginning to head west too. Whatever; there is joy and beauty and mystery everywhere. We can’t possibly take it all in so why worry about missing something? 

Two nights in a row we met really awesome couples from California. One of them sleeping in the back of their Prius (super clever set-up) The other had a really cool Little Guy Teardrop. Each couple were travelers and dreamers. I would love to get to know them better. The first couple were therapist/social workers. They spoke our emotional language. The second couple were teardrop adventurers who traveled with 4 rescue pups. They spoke our compassionate adventurers language. We seem to speak many languages. These languages cross many borders. Age, race, socio-economic, faith, pop culture, music, medicinals…well, lots of crossings. Isn’t that wonderful? I feel so multi-lingual. And no apps required. Just a healthy dose of consciousness.

We’re at Lobster Creek on the Rogue River. Lobsters? Really? Suspend disbelief Debbie. How can there be a lobster in a creek?  But hey, our neighbor saw a seal yesterday while kayaking so why not a lobster 🦞 

Well, we exchanged contact information with both couples and invited them to visit in North Carolina. In parting both couples suggested we visit in the Redwood Forest. So that’s what we’ll do. A full day of hiking. Hooray!

At this point I have stopped thinking we are lucky. This is just the way it is. We found our campsite at Lobster Creek because we stopped to admire that teardrop. While chatting the folks next door said they were leaving soon. Would we like their spot?  Hell yeah, I want your spot! After hiking in the most amazing place we had no idea where we would sleep. We saw a sign for Hidden Springs Campground. Fits our theme, right?  So we made the turn and found ourselves on a scenic by-way of a scenic by-way. Who knew you could double-up on by-way beauty. Anyway, after a couple of u-turns (Steve’s specialty) we drove in absolute awe down the Avenue of the Giants to Hidden Springs. 

We hiked with the Giants. Slept with the Giants. Sat quietly with the Giants. This Treasure Hunt is amazing. 

From Steve: Ticklers

Here in the desert of Arizona there are no mosquitoes. The temperature got up to 107 yesterday and I suppose that’s not good for mosquitoes. Aside from a jack rabbit or two we have flies. They don’t seem to bite as much as tickle. It makes me understand why the desert people wear long white robes and cover their heads: it helps with the flies.

We are novices at dealing with the desert heat. In fact we noticed that yesterday we were the only people outdoors in the whole campground,except a few people in their air-conditioned campers.  We spent most of the day sitting in the lake and nearby under a shade tree. The temperature when we went to bed was 96. The fan that cools our camper has either been blowing out hot air or pulling in hot air. Debbie usually whines when the bedtime temperature is above 72°, but she was a stalwart trooper with her ice packs and wet scarf. Luckily we got rescued around 10 PM by a downpour and we had a pleasant night. 

For me the weather is just the backdrop to the inner experience. Two months on the road changes you inside. When you don’t have the usual anxieties it’s a good time to look at all your anxieties. At 74 I am seeing more and more deaths among contemporaries. Hmmm, am I next? 

To me that isn’t the scary part. The scary part for me is what does it feel like to take the last breath. I’ve had a few dreams where I wake up in panic and seem to be grabbing breaths as fast as I can. I wonder will I be able to let go and stop breathing. 

The answer came to me this morning. It is an illusion that we control our breath. In normal state of calm we are being breathed so when the body let’s go we will no longer breathe. 

Just one more thing I don’t need to control. We drop easily into that consciousness of infinite Space and Time No more cell phones, busyness, fears and human drama.

From Avett Brothersong “No Hard Feelings“”

When my body won’t hold me anymore

And it finally lets me free

Where will I go?

Will the trade winds take me south through Georgia grain?

Or tropical rain?

Or snow from the heavens?

Will I join with the ocean blue?

Or run into a savior true?

And shake hands laughing

And walk through the night, straight to the light

Holding the love I’ve known in my life

And no hard feelings

Lord knows, they haven’t done much good for anyone

Kept me afraid and cold

With so much to have and hold

Under the curving sky

I’m finally learning why

It matters for me and you

To say it and mean it too

For life and its loveliness

And all of its ugliness

Good as it’s been to me

I have no enemies

I have no enemies

I have no enemies

And from Debbie. We Found the London Bridge!

Okay, we are not highly rational or predictable travelers. We signed-up for a pickleball tournament, but didn’t play. We got entrance tickets and camping at Yosemite, but drove on by. We drove through Napa Valley and drank not even one glass of wine. And what happens? We end up in the desert and find the London Bridge. Really, the actual bridge. Re-assembled here in Arizona. With flags of both countries flapping in the breeze. 

This picture was taken from my bed in the Little Guy this morning around 6:00 am. Beautiful, right?  Yesterday it got up to 109*. Last night we had a rare and delightful BIG STORM. Winds, thunder, lightning and rain to cool things off. 

It’s 7:00 am and I am sitting in the shade of the Little Guy looking across Lake Havasu. In case you missed it, the temperature yesterday was 109*. Since we’re right on the beach we just go in the lake…fully clothed, and let the dry desert heat and constant breeze keep us cool-ish. It’s really beautiful here and I’m glad for the experience. But it takes a great deal of ingenuity to function. There are water spigots and showers but the water coming out is hot. This is generally way beyond my ability to be kind and gentle. Heat makes me crazy! But truly, here we are for two days and the challenge is like a game for me. How to stay hydrated? How to cook fresh food when the campstove is an unwelcomed additional heat source? How to ignore the flies? How to nap on top of picnic tables under a shade tree?

We managed quite nicely until 5:00 pm when the heat/fly combo led me to scream

 “it’s 5:00 somewhere. And someone is drinking cold beer in a cool sports bar”. 

I want to be that person! I want to be there!!! So off we go in search of Burley Brothers and that is when we crossed the London Bridge. And found a great sports bar. With delightfully cold beer and endless glasses of water with lots of ice. I understand the importance of an oasis!

Necessity breeds invention. Time to buy a bag of ice to create some cool water to drink and ice bags to sleep with. Yep!

When you adjust your thinking it’s just like dealing with cold weather camping. But different. In cold weather you add layers and easily create enough body heat to sleep snug. With extreme heat you choose one layer, get it completely wet. Make a ziploc bag of ice. Cool down your tennis towel. Wrap your head with the towel. Place the ice bag on your wet-clothed belly. Turn on the blessedly reliable ceiling fan. And think happy thoughts.  😜

Today we will use the skills we developed yesterday to not just survive, but enjoy this desert experience!  

AND, we will also go see a movie in an air-conditioned theater. And get beer and ice water and tostados in the air-conditioned pub by the London Bridge.

What? We’re in Madrid? Huh?. Yeah, we are. Not Madrid, Spain because we quit the getting lost thing. But Madrid, New Mexico because we’re all about finding something.

Well, we found something. It’s the place where hippies and all the Volkswagen vans and original teardrop campers of the 60’s go to live out their days in the high desert of New Mexico.

 Madrid. Lots of chilled-out locals and overly touristy tourists visiting a ½ mile stretch of in-the-middle-of-nowhere-

but-along-the-turquoise-highway

top-ten places to visit. We did visit. And then..

In the hammock. On the mesa. Up a 2 mile road that takes 20 minutes and a gazillion bumpity bumps to climb. Our HipCamp hideaway. The host is friendly. The grasses are all waving their welcome. 

I love sinking into someone else’s dream. Shelly, a road-wise hippie, artist. musician, vagabond, yoga teacher, nature lover, free spirit who loves the road but dreams of community brings the gifts of nomadic life to this sacred ground. Full-time wanderers as well as weekend adventurers find their place here. Anyone who has stood barefoot on holy ground knows this to be true: there are sacred places where the energy is mysterious and healing. A sense of present moment intersects with timelessness. 

We are over six weeks on the road now. And this is the perfect time to land here. After our 4th day of desert heat which requires our limited doing and increased being. Our HipCamp on a mesa. The totally off-grid Shanti Community. To find our place in the shade. To gaze across endless mesas. Hike the canyon as the sun is setting. Watch clouds form and re-form. Taking the shapes of Pegasus and such. Allowing this magical time and space to bring about some tiny bits of integration. And also give my questions a chance to emerge in their own way. From body and soul rather than culture or logistics. 

I think of a mantra I acquired from Tara Brach. This too is part of me. 

So many parts to ponder. 

From Sisters of the Earth, 2nd edition. 

Why Do You Keep Those Cats, by Judith Minty

All winter those cats of mine

Doze like old women in front of the fire

Curl their fur around saucers of sunlight

they have trapped on my rug. Sometimes

they bury themselves in the wool of blankets

to sniff dreams I left there.

And from Steve. ELVIS

Last night we went to the Elvis movie. So much of what made Elvis special was formed in his childhood. As a child he lived inshanty towns in rural Mississippi. He grew up in black culture with the blues, soul music, Penecostal trances, and watching people shaking their booties. 

In indigenous culture he might’ve been a shaman as  children who could go into deep trance mode could often bring a vision back to their people and inspire healing.

And Elvis brought healing through his music his inhibition , his swirling pelvis, channeling an energy that was raw and powerful. His manager and mentor played by Tom Hanks was a circus illusionist who knew the con. His  brilliance and his understanding of the music business brought Elvis fame and fortune. He knew how to manipulate people and the system Yet his fears and dark shadows in his personality contributed to Elvis‘s destruction as well as his own.

It’s common for people in the public area to be unable to handle adulation and fame. It’s hard to stay grounded when the next high of performance and audience is right around the corner. It’s hard to create healthy boundaries. 

I recall the story of one famous eccentric New York author who lived outside of the city and refused to let anyone know his whereabouts. He would come in to town and receive his royalties in a large paper bag filled with cash in different phone booths in the city.

10 minutes from the end of the movie Debbie and I ducked out as we knew Elvis’ tragic ending. A flawed hero singing LOVE ME TENDER.

Look who was right outside my window this morning! I opened the curtain of our first hotel room stay. And Tah-Dah, a friendly neighbor.

That was two nights ago. Along the historic Route 66 in Oklahoma. The next day we drove and drove. Then we stayed a second night in a hotel in Conway, Arkansas. Both nights were really nurturing. And we watched tennis. And ate breakfast from the complimentary hot-food bar. A welcomed rest. But both days traveling were hard. Hot and, well,  HOT. 

And then we drove to Graceland. I mean, come on. We just saw the movie and we’re passing through Memphis. 

And then we drove some more and stopped in Lebanon, Tennessee. 

It’s our last night on the road. Always we find it’s harder to end than begin. Strange, but we never really felt lost when we didn’t know where we were or exactly where we were going. Heading back to the known is just harder somehow. 

These past few days have been challenging. Extreme heat and the journeys-end fast approaching. There’s this sense that the ending should be kinda epic. Instead it’s just hot. Feels like ever since we left the redwoods we have done more surviving than thriving. But this is an adventure. Not a vacation. There is a difference.

On a vacation I plan to relax. 

On an adventure I expect to be surprised by what I learn. Learning  both about the world around me. And the world within me. 

And we learned LOTS of things. 

In just the past few days we learned how to sit still in the desert. How to appreciate the brief coolness of a morning. And love the long, slow sunset. How to gather water. Some for drinking and some to pour over our heads. Or wet a tennis towel for wrapping the head and cooling the face. 

And maybe the hardest learning…how to leave the comfort of nature and our well-known little-guy-life to sleep in air-conditioning and watch tennis on a t.v.  

I haven’t watched or heard one minute of news/weather in almost 8 weeks. I don’t really think I’ve missed anything. But I must say, I am loving the U.S.Open and the soft sheets and the super fluffy pillows. And well, , air-conditioning is one of the greatest inventions ever!!!  

Whoa, whoa, whoa!!! Wait a minute. This is an adventure story. And it’s one of those choose-your-own-ending stories. We can’t choose to end this way. In hotel rooms along an interstate. 

Soooo, we’re up and headed across Tennessee toward the NC mountains. Good-bye a/c. Good-bye internet. 

Hello Mother Nature. In a way that feels very round and complete, here’s how we landed in our last campground. 

Some years ago we met new friends while  playing tennis in Chapel Hill. We got to talking about travel and camping and the lure of the outdoors. They had a teardrop camper. We fell in love with it, started researching for one, and found our Little Guy in south Florida. The first owners were from the Netherlands and had stickers attached saying 

“N.L. Onze Bedstee (our bed) 

We LOVE our Little Guy. 

And we treasure all of the travels. 

And we thank our lucky stars for meeting friends who opened up this wonderful way of exploring the big, wide world to us.

AND, in that wonderfully synchronistic way of the road, these are the very same friends who texted us as we drove across Tennessee saying if you’re in the neighborhood we’ve snagged a campsite for you. 

Whoa!!! That’s the perfect invitation. 

Lakefront at Bandit’s Roost. On the Kerr-Scott Resevoir in Wilkesboro, NC.  With a campfire and gourmet camp meal and wine and laughter and our very first welcome home hugs. Now that’s a best last night on the road!

Steve

The Drive

When it’s too hot to camp, we are left with the DRIVE. 1800 miles 4 days. Wake up, load car, drive 500 miles, stop at motel, shower, eat from our cooler, watch tv, go to bed, eat crappy breakfast and do it again. I’m sure Debbie could make this journey sound like an adventure but I can tell you it was not. 

Clinton Oklahoma, Conway Arkansas and Leland Tennessee were graced by our presence. The highlights were being chased by a huge thunderhead, dark and menacing, and going to Graceland.  My sister is a huge Elvis fan and we wanted to surprise her with Elvis memorabilia. We thought about the tour but we would have been out $150 or $225 if you wanted to see Elvis’ sock drawers. 

By the end of the third day we had lost our smiles and were ready to tuck our tail between our legs and get home. We saw an email inviting us to bandits roost to camp in nc. “I love Bandits Roost “ Debbie exclaimed. I wanted to end our trip with dignity. So we set sight for Bandits Roost at the foothills of the Blue Ridge 

A huge welcome and celebration awaited us from our friends Kurt and Claire. They found a filet mignon in the bottom of the cooler and baked potatoes. We brought the salad. Storytelling and laughing and hugging ensued. We swam in the lake, got bit by some stinging ants and laughed some more. What a warm welcome for our weary souls.

Lulu our 2005 Toyota Corolla pulled into Blue Heron Farm after performing flawlessly towing a camper  for 8000 miles.  The next morning she woke up with a flat tire. We hopped into our bed that night. Something didn’t feel right so I said to Debbie, do you want to sleep in the little guy.??

Back into our cocoon for a good nights sleep.