When I was in 8th grade, I wanted to be a park ranger.
When I was in 9th grade, I wanted to drive down the coast of California via 101.
In Mr. Schott’s AP euro class, when he asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I answered “happy.”
About a week ago, I wanted it to be in the 80s instead of raining.
I just finished an internship with Washington State Parks, where I wore the uniform and learned the environment and drove a “state rig” and talked with campers. Today I finished a two day drive from Seattle-area to Berkeley, CA – along 101. I spent the afternoon on a back deck soaking up the sunshine of an 80s day. I even have new employment; job description: to belittle and berate my friend so he goes to the gym. Close enough.
What do you do when you find that your aspirations all have a little check mark next to them in a cute little square box…maybe you make new ones like, “graduate from college” and “get a real job.” But right now I’m content with, “wait for David and Nancy to get home from work” and “eat trail mix.”
I don’t know what all that foolishness I just wrote was, but I was driving in the car and thinking about my goals…or lack thereof. I answered “happy” to Mr. Schott. I guess I’ll focus on that one…if only I knew what the hell that meant.
Yesterday I bid farewell (for now) to Stacy and Chrissy, and pulled out of Port Orchard in my (dad’s) Honda, loaded down with clothes and records and pillows and a tent and TWO sleeping bags (one much plumper and more pleasant) and a cereal box of granola and a bag of apples. 16 to 5 south. I love Oregon. Wonderful. Beautiful. Although the state park at which I stopped was terribly managd (if managed at all). I continued onto 199 south into CA and 101. Exit 734 (yes…734…) led me to Patrick’s Point State Park, a park I had been advised by a very wonderful A&U team to visit. After making site 5 my little abode for the evening, a walk led me to a rocky cliff on which I watched the sun set. As it disappeared into a misty ribbon floating above this slate blue infinity, I watched the teenage waves crash anxiously onto the rocky realities of coastline, and then slowly recede, only to be picked up again and the undulating water and the foamy sky and the pinks and blues and grays of an evening.
Striking camp after a night of restful sleep (thank you oh squishy bag for sleeping), I packed the Honda to the brim (+) and sat with my guitar for a while. Rising before most of the campground, the serenity of the Before hitting the road, I explored the park, finding my way down a dusty path lined with some familiar friends and some new ones that I have yet to know the name. After a short jaunt through this neighborhood, I emerged onto a rocky coast. I wonder if those waves continued through the night without respite, for they seemed just as powerful this morning. As the sun rose behind me, it streamed through the tree-branch blinds and as it climbed the stairs of morning, it played its new light upon those daunting rocks and crashing waves.
Returning to my car, I finalized (got) directions to the Berkeley-clan and set off. I took 101 most of the way, stopping off several times to visit with the world’s tallest denizens. Yesterday I also stopped on the forest, but today I took a short break from driving and explored. I met a nice couple from Harrisburg, and several giants from California. The combination of sorrel, redwoods, sunlight, and bare feet must have been what I was searching for.
I arrived Berkeley at 3:50, let myself in, showered, relaxed. Began the earlier part of this blog as I enjoyed to hot summer sun and the beautiful back yard gardens. Hugged Nancy and David when the returned from work, and proceeded to give the whirlwind history of my summer in the Pacific Northwest. Wonderful dinner from David. Music. I am so happy to be here with family. All summer I could not imagine being “out here” and not seeing these people who I love and enjoy and so now I am here loving and enjoying them so I’m going to go do that now. Or go to bed.
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