“Men come and go, cities rise and fall, whole civilizations appear and disappear – the Earth remains, slightly modified. The Earth remains, and the heartbreaking beauty where there are no hearts to break… I sometimes choose to think, no doubt perversely, that man is a dream, thought an illusion, and only rock is real. Rock and sun.” ~ Desert Solitaire ~ [Edward Abbey]
It is the Golden Hour on this clear and only brisk Friday evening at the campsite on Whalen Island. It is populated, to put it mildly, but it is alright, there are no alternative if wanting to camp on the coast, the beaches of Oregon. Three more nights and the path will be inland. Enumclaw for some repairs on the sidecar. The mounts are tired, will see what kind of magic Jay at Dauntless, the Manufacturer, will have up his sleeve.
Beautiful ride up to Tillamook on a road with a scenery worth stopping at every mile, a road also worthy of the worse ones, crater filled as the ones in California. I guess no one has the money for repair, as also the $500,000 needed for a new light and lens at the Cape Look Out lighthouse. Someone shot the lighthouse. No comments. Speechless.
Is it one of those days when all is on track? Seems like it. What track however? A normal day. What is a normal day in our Life? Maybe I need to figure that one out sometime. It is now Saturday evening. We are are still of course at this Motel with no walls. Imagination can run wild, there is no need for photos. It is packed tonight, 2 to 3 cars per site, living on the road is such a learning curve.
It is worth it though. The beach is outstanding and these past days so has been the weather. Off the beach now there is no lack of entertainment as we are planted pretty much in the middle of it all and as the camp host said earlier, I can sit here and watch the World go around. Can I ever, smells included. Some campers are friendly, and some are not. Some avoid looking at us like the plague. Some kids are louder than loud and some are so well behaved. The camp hosts are really nice. She is a sweetheart, he is the patrolling police and there better even be no sound of a needle dropping after 10 o’clock. I like that part. These couple days out are the closest so many are going to be confronted with Mother Nature. I am not saying they are in harmony, they are trying, it takes a long time. I should know as I have jumped on the other side of the wall myself and now in reverse have a hard time being in harmony with the Urban Nature.
Morning has now arrived. Everyone has a dog or two or three. They are not in harmony, their barking neither as also their owner. I had to go and tell this woman last night to curb her volume on her megaphone and restrain her profanity. Drunk, as most that think it is the norm when let loose on the dirt path, her eyes bloodshot opened wide showing a true bulge of a speechless then consternation. It is a total disarray as everyone is leaving (I hope) and cannot do so without projecting a final round of disrespect and true nature of their uncivilized manners. The lessons I learn, they never cease to surprise me. Is this truly the World I am missing? Where is my cave? My boulder I can hide behind, my mountain top I can live unseen and unheard, where is my "Oasis"?
Not fair, I like meeting people, the balance sways constantly as the winds here when trying to stay out of the line of the smoke from the fire burning every night to keep us warm. The balance, always that delicate balance. I started wondering lately how clearly the train of thoughts navigates when in the midst of a tumultuous space. Can the creativity be as fruitful as in the lost wilderness when one only has to confront themselves within the peacefulness of Mother Nature? And even then, how does the weather, the conditions, all, affect one? I know my answer.
Be well… there is always someone worse off than you are.
Ara & Spirit