Life has taken on a comfortable routine. How long we’ll be happy with small-town beach life remains to be seen as we have notoriously itchy feet. But after nearly five years of almost non-stop motion, it’s fantastic to establish a routine. My favorite part~ how unexpected it all is. If you had told me 6-months ago that I’d be embracing life in a small coastal town back in Oregon I would have scoffed at the idea.
One of my favorite quotes from “Sweet Home Alabama” is when Reese Witherspoon’s character is told “You can have roots and wings”. This is a difficult concept for me. Those who follow our social media are well aware we followed the road back to Oregon and the questions have been many. In truth, we never planned on leaving Clio’s and the stunning Sierra Nevada’s early. We loved the managers and our co-workers and the chance to explore a new region. However, the truth is also that for two years we have been searching for a paying camp job in Oregon or SW Washington, something that is far harder than you might imagine.
Upon arrival here in Clio (pronounced Klio if you’re wondering) we were awestruck by the extraordinary beauty of this area, known as the Lost Sierra’s. Within 20 miles of the camp is a bevy of sights to be explored including mountain vistas and endless lakes. As the weather has once again turned to summer temperatures these last few weeks have found us taking full advantage.
As we sit on the Colorado River in southern California it is time, once again, to reflect on another winter on the Baja. This year brought an entirely new adventure because of our first caravan trip with Baja Amigos.
The last month has been a blur of activity for our little family and if the Blue Zones theory on social interaction= overall health we should surely be some of the healthiest folks on the planet!
Mexico is our safe place. That sweet spot we head to when we need to heal weary minds and hearts. When Jim’s sister passed away in 2003 we found solace in Mazatlan. When my mom passed away in 2005 we almost immediately grabbed Ron & Dario and headed to Puerto Vallarta. This fall, rather than take the planned drive around the USA, we knew that a couple of months renewing on the beaches of Baja was what was called for.
Those words, from one of my favorite songs, is an apt description of much of our life and wanderings. A season ending in Baja transforms into a season beginning at camp. Now, as the leaves begin a color kaleidoscope transformation all their own, our seasons will soon recycle and renew as well.
Back at camp in Idaho, the idea of “home” has been on our minds of late. Jim’s parents still ask when we’re “coming home”. We frequently find ourselves in conversations with strangers where they ask where home is. There is no real clear-cut answer. Our official residency, for now, is Portland. We live half of the year in Idaho and half elsewhere. The majority of those we meet simply can not comprehend the idea of a semi-nomadic existence.
It all started with an ottoman. A broken brake fiasco south of Mulege had us pulling into Playa Santispac rather than our beloved Playa Coyote beach. We generally think of Santispac as a place for “big rigs” and all of those who want easy access to Mexico 1 rather than those seeking a bit of peace and quiet. No matter. A night on any one of the scenic beaches of Bahia Concepcion is a dream.
We decided to leave the brake fix until the next morning and then I saw it. The tall blond woman in the RV just down from us had an ottoman. A real life, straight out of a living room, ottoman that she was resting her feet on while reading her book next to the sea. A wave of envy washed over me.
We crossed the border recently~ a 3-hour soul-crushing grind before arriving back in the good old USA in what was our longest, and yet least invasive border crossing in over two years. Los Barrile’s winter entered the history books. As always, it was incredibly bittersweet.
