Dawn was just breaking in the sky as I stirred awake. Aspen and Jim continued to snore softly as I contemplated the beginning of a new day. This morning musing brought the realization that for the first time in over one year I felt totally and completely relaxed and at peace.
Camp life continues to roll along and we are shocked to realize it is already nearly mid-September. Along with hundreds of guests, we have been fortunate enough to have plenty of our own visitors in the form of family and dear friends. It’s no secret that in large part our decision to return to Oregon to work was the opportunity to be able to spend more time with our tribe and believe me, our hearts are full!
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.
64. That is the number of different campsites we experienced between October 14, 2018, and April 7, 2019. If you’re doing the math you’ll notice we moved on an average of every 2.8 days. When you consider we spent nearly two full months lazing in Los Barriles the numbers are too exhausting to calculate. A truly crazy busy last six months saw us traveling through eight states (two of them twice) and up and down Baja twice. It was also an amazing winter filled with friends both old and new, many places both old and new, and grand adventures. However, we are, needless to say, road weary by now.
Here is our annual, and this year exhaustive, list of where we stayed from the day we left Coeur d’Alene to our arrival at our new camp in the Sierra Nevada’s. Because of the number of stops I’m breaking this down into more than one blog post. We begin with the fall adventures from our departure in CDA to our arrival in Los Barriles.
Our fantastic road-trip with Dave & Anne continued into week two. We pulled away from Paso Robles and enjoyed a stunning drive back to the Pacific in Monterey. The forecast was iffy but our luck held with sunshine and clear skies.
No one who knows us, or follows us, will be surprised to hear that we did NOT head north through Arizona and Utah National Parks as planned but instead road tripped California to find our way back to Oregon. Ever flexible, when the mild winter turned into a raging spring, our thoughts turned to warmer temps. When Dave & Anne and presumably Max, our road-tripping partners, expressed a desire for warmer and sunnier the original plan was scrapped and we began to route west.
As full-time rv’ers, our reality is that we spend an enormous chunk of time searching for places to stay. In some cases, we follow familiar paths and are pretty sure we know where we’ll end up, but we thrive on exploring and finding new adventures and this is where Harvest Hosts comes into play.
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.
