Seaside, OR (pics)

I still haven't fulfilled my mission of sleeping on the beach but I'm getting closer!

I planned on pitching a tent at Fort Stevens State Park on the coast but made the mistake of waiting until 6pm on a Friday to find a spot. They were full as were the next couple camp sites. An overcrowded KOA Campground had a few spot in their overflow lot for $35. I decided to press my luck even though it was getting close to 7 by now. I really liked the solitude of hike-in camping from the night before but couldn't be overly choosy at this point. The Seaside Hostel was nearby but I was sure they'd be booked. I called to see if I could pitch a tent on their lawn and they ended up having bunks available. Sweet!

The highlight, though, was a sunset kayak excursion leaving a few minutes after I checked in. This guy Colin gives nightly kayak tours for the hostel in exchange for rent. He is taking a bike tour from Vancouver Island down to Mexico and decided to stop here for a while. He alternates between kayak and snowboard instructing in whichever hemisphere suits him at the time. Six of us paddled from the river the hostel overlooks to where it meets the ocean. We had some tea and string cheese on a sandbar while watching the sun set. Hundreds of seagulls rested on the beach and hovered in the breeze around us. It was beautiful.

We got back at dark and I decided to get some groceries. The hostel has a delightfully old and creaky bike with a big basket (pedal backwards to brake) that I took on the errand. I took a detour down to the beach to watch the waves roll in and see the stars. The beach was peppered with campfires and people walking in the dark; the air warm and breezy. Next I pedaled back up the main drag which was alive with restaurants and bars and shops and vacationers.

I returned home with my groceries to a handful of folks sitting around a campfire while Colin played some bluegrass on a guitar. Bananas, peanut butter sandwiches and hummus never tasted so good. People got to telling about their various adventures and a few had been to Burning Man or had close friends who had. I got some good tips for places to stay as I make my way down to San Francisco. The owner of the hostel is a sweet little Vietnamese woman, Trung, with grown children. She told of a Pikes Peak climb gone wrong. She saved an unprepared couple from hypothermia with soup and heated water bottles. She was grateful to hear their snoring all night because it meant she didn't have to carry bodies down the mountain the next morning.

That's all for now. About to go check out a big volleyball tournament on the beach near here (20 or so nets). I'll do my duty and report back on how the women look in their bikinis.

Oh yeah, Trung asked me if I want to build a sauna for her in exchange for lodging. Hmm?

Late night thoughts

It is 11 at night and just about pitch black. I'm sitting at a hike-in primitive camp site in the strangely stupendous Stub Stewart State Park between Portland and the Pacific. There is maybe one other camper withing a half mile. Just me and the crickets. I actually have my pocketknife ready in case a bear wanders by. The rest of this post is me being introspective on a lonely night rather than fun travel stuff.

For most of my adult life I've been very content to be a loner. Do what I want, when I want. Don't plan anything. If something interesting comes up, go along for the ride; otherwise there's always a movie, book or the internet. Family will always be there and acquaintances will always be around without really having to work at it. I crave richer/fuller relationships and find myself a bit at a loss as to why I don't have more at this point in my life. Sure I don't strike up a conversation with strangers, or call up friends to do things or remember people's birthdays or even bother to pick up the phone half the time it rings, but why should that matter? Shouldn't fabulously interesting people be seeking me out on my terms?

I'm a weird guy (shocking!) and I realize that people I'm really able to connect with will most likely also be weird. Generally, though, I determine people are not weird in enough of the same dimensions as me to really get me or be worth investing a lot of effort in (and occasionally vice versa). Maybe I'm too picky or maybe this is just life. I always assumed that given enough time and chance encounters, I would accumulate more and closer relationships than I have. It would seem to be time for some changes but I'm not sure what will be fruitful (or if I'm too set in my ways.)

Portland (w/pics)

I've spent the better part of a week in Portland. I left yesterday and am now in Astoria, OR on the coast where the Columbia River lets out. Astoria has the charm of a small town and the traffic/parking of NYC. Odd. I'll probably work my way down the coast for a day or two.

Portland stuff:

• Stayed at a hostel on E. Hawthorne.
• Hung out downtown.
• Met Amy's friends, Miles and Rachael.
• Met up with Kelly and her dog Henry.
• Went to Powell's a couple times. (huge bookstore)
• Went to two different rose gardens.
• Went to a traditional Japanese garden. This was really pretty. (I wish I had gone earlier in the day to get better light.)
  

Cell phone

For someone supposedly up on technology, I've never cared for gadgets. I don't have a PDA, MP3 player, GPS or, until recently, a cell phone. Apart from the monthly expense, I didn't want to deal with keeping the dumb thing charged or worry about losing it. Despite not wanting a cell, my friend Jen bought me a pay-as-you-go phone for my birthday so I could no longer hide from her. It has actually worked out really well...a cell comes in handy when out on the road. Next year I think I will ask Jen for an iPhone. :)

At some point on the road, my cell phone just died. The screen would light up when the phone was charging but would be blank apart from that. After going without for a week I found a Cingular store in downtown Portland and went to get it fixed. I don't like stores and don't have much faith in the teenagers that work in them but what else could I do? I didn't even know if it could be fixed, being an ultra-cheap model. I walked up to the (I'm guessing high school) girl at the counter and handed it to her. A few seconds later she handed it back to me fixed.

You just need to turn it on.

Apparently the phone is usually on "stand-by". After the battery got drained on the road it switched to "off" and one needs to hold down the red button for 3 seconds to turn it back on.

Teenagers 1 - Ed 0.

:(

Amy is on her way back to NC. Grad school awaits her.

A week in review and Olympic NP pics

So, what to say? We spent a couple days in Boulder at a camp site with wifi. Is there anything better? Drove all the way to Hermiston, OR in one day (~16 hours) to recharge and hang out with my brother, Brett and my mom who happened to be visiting him. We took a tour of McNary Dam where Brett works and checked out the turbines and fish monitoring apparatus. A good time was had by all.

Next we drove to Seattle and took a ferry to Vashon Island and spent a few nights sleeping in a teepee with its own fire pit. Sadly I forgot to take pictures but it was a lot of fun. By the third morning my pancakes had improved from pale piles of half-cooked mush into perfect golden circles. I'm having mixed feelings about actually preparing my own food...it probably won't become a habit at this phase of my life. Or ever.

After Vashon we drove to the other side of Puget Sound and visited Olympic National Park. The coastline is spectacular. It would have been great, if a bit cold, to camp there. Perhaps I'll have to find a secluded spot on the Oregon coast and do just that.

We recently arrived in Portland where we'll be until Tuesday when Amy flies back to North Carolina and 'we' becomes 'I'. So sad. And it will be several weeks before Natasha gets in from Windsor.

What will I do until then??

Seattle/Vashon Island Pics

Here's a few pics from the Seattle/Vashon Island area.

The nautical pics are from the Seattle/Vashon ferry.

The funky looking building is the Seattle Public Library's main branch.

The disturbing pic is from the absolute last motel room available in Port Angeles.

More to come...