I have got to admit it, I am not in a good place this week. Tired, in a funk, dreading the daily trek to the cubicle, my mind is churning with possibilities, but my body and soul are exhausted. I wan to be gone~ floating down the Nile, drinking an ice cold Corona on the beaches of Mexico, slurping street noodles in Asia. I want to be anywhere else.
Our Indian influence
The drive west on Highway 26 appears paved in gold. Lined with thousands of trees displaying a dozen shades of red and gold, the wet road reflects the multi-hued colors, creating the appearance of a golden pathway leading to weekend bliss. The sun was setting as we pulled into camp, turning the calm bay as golden as the road ahead of us.
The rain pounded on the roof, wind gusts of over 60mph causing the camper to sway. A slight whistle sounded through the vent, even as our collective breathing fogged the windows. Pacific NW camping during a storm. An excellent idea!
We are stuck. We spend our free time reading other travelers blogs, sucking up the nervous energy of those just preparing to embark, the excitement and joy of those on the road, and the reflection of those at the end. We exist in a rather odd place in the middle. We have, in a sense, already “been there, done that”. We’ve previously taken off on our own long-term journey when we backpacked around the world in 2007-2008. We were scared and more excited than we had dreamed possible. I remember, like it was yesterday, the overwhelming sense of adventure, as we prepared to head out into the world for a longer than the typical American holiday.
The silence was deafening. And exactly what we were looking for. Day to day life had, in recent weeks, become exhausting. Yes, a certain amount of angst is simply due to restlessness in our quest to return to the road. But busy days at work, many chores at home, and spending most weekends away from home, the last admittedly self induced, had created an intense need to not just go away…but to get away.
Away from cell service, away from people, away from the cares of the world.
I dream of travel. My nights are spent luxuriating on the beach in Mexico, eating my weight in SE Asian street noodles, being awoken long before dawn by the roar of an African lion. Sometimes my dreams aren’t quite as vivid, rather than memories of past journeys, they consist of the anticipation of what is to come. These days those dreams have a lot of llamas in them.
Certain places possess a vibe that can be unexplainable. A power to draw you in so that you only sit in wonder. Such places transcend the modern and cause you to wholeheartedly embrace a higher being, whether you call it God, Mohammed, Buddha or simply the Universe.
The Invitation ~ by Oriah Mountain Dreamer
It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.
It doesn’t interest me how old you are
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love
for your dreams
for the adventure of being alive.
I could feel the sun beating down, in spite of the protection the sunshade above offered. May flies danced on the water as Aspen napped on my feet and Porter fretted over a passing beetle. It was a day filled with good food, perfect weather, long walks, and a marvelous swim in the lake. The hammock beckoned for pure camping perfection.
Two years from today I did our first blog post. At the time I was completely unsure if anyone would read it. For a long time, it seemed no one did. No, not even our family. In fact, to this day, although we have had over 35,000 visitors in all 50 states and over 20 countries worldwide, I can assure you that the majority of our close friends and family have no idea what I spend so much time writing about.
