The crisp morning air caused me to snuggle deeper into my sleeping bag and Ryder and Jim continued to snooze in peace. The heat from our bodies formed thick condensation in contrast to the cool and it was tempting to ignore my body’s nudge to make a break for the portapot located a short distance away.
We’d headed to the Barbara & Walter Brown Memorial Park for a much-needed night away after an insanely busy summer season. Yes, we could have hooked up the trailer and headed to one of our normal getaways but with just a short night and an interest in ease combined with our having not tent-camped in years, we broke out the tent and sleeping bag and headed a mere 30 minutes up the windy, scenic Siletz River Highway.
Upon hearing our plan numerous friends expressed surprise that we’d willingly give up our comfortable camper in lieu of a tent but we needed a jolt out of our comfortable existence.
Back in my bag waiting for my boys to wake, my mind wandered to our numerous adventures around the world where lack of comfort was essential to the thread of life that created the most magnificent memories.
A smile crossed my lips remembering entire days spent on the side of the road in East Africa waiting for a flat tire to be fixed while playing soccer with local children. Of our first night in India freezing cold as our car raced through Rajasthan with breaks for roadside chai. I thought of the intense frustration on the Red Sea in Egypt attempting to secure transportation to Luxor. Images of washing dishes in salt water on a deserted beach in Baja sprung to the forefront of my mind along with missed train connections on our first trip to Europe.
Flashback to the present Ryder is ready to make his own exit from the tent before his breakfast. On the tailgate of the truck, Jim got the jetboil heating for coffee as our breath misted in the air.
In our current stationary road, coffee on the tailgate was less comfortable than on a normal morning. And yet, in the course of thirty years of international travel, this was as easy as it gets.
Be willing to be uncomfortable. Be comfortable being uncomfortable. It may get tough, but it’s a small price to pay for living a dream. ~ Peter McWilliams
In my every day, I am forever astonished by the inability of many people to cope with the slightest inconvenience. If we lose electricity or the cell service is out for half of a day we’re overwhelmed by questions such as “when will it come back on?”, “What are we supposed to do?”, and such. Honestly, go for a walk, read a book, or play a card game. To me, the possibilities are nearly endless outside of the ability to turn on your cable tv or run your microwave.
Back at this 3.5-acre park encompassing 19 sites, we played cornhole, took Ryder swimming in the river by the boat ramp, and lazed away the hours doing really, almost nothing.
The evening before was chilly and damp and we dug a bit deeper into our puffy jackets around the fire with a bottle of whiskey by our side. Ryder snuggled into his camper pajamas, relishing hanging with his pack. We watched the stars and listened to the night noises over the crackling of the fire fully content.
Our current somewhat stagnant lifestyle feels too comfortable, too easy. I listen with something bordering on disgust when an acquaintance planning a luxurious trip with friends to a beachfront house complete with a personal chef complains because it will be a “pain” to be forced to take a private shuttle over an hour from the airport. I crave the difficulty of travel. One of my biggest highs is the moment I arrive in a new country with no idea what the day will hold.
For now, long-term international travel is on the backburner but that won’t deter us from seeking out adventures that challenge us closer to home. To explore off the beaten path. To be less comfortable.