California is still a haven of van culture. Julie and I continue to explore ourselves in the comfortable confines of our orange chariot. Last week after having 6 days off from our own vagrancy on Arcata’s streets, we were again dreaming peacefully under a humming yellow mercury street lamp, cozy and respectfully keeping to ourselves when a loud voice and knocking of the police roused us into our clothes. At 4:30 am we were calmly interrogated and then informed that it is indeed illegal to sleep in one’s vehicle, a tent, or the underbrush within the city limit. Sense we were not flagrantly disturbing the public peace and this being our first offense as Vermonters we were given a verbal warning and told to leave the city limits for further vehicular snoozing. So now we have steered clear of putting our bedroom on the street and accepted the invite of some new friends to park and sleep in their driveway. The amount of sleeping vagrants in Arcata must be well over a thousand. The fall rains are starting, which washes out many of the less hardy (those without a van,) and a little harassment from the authorities sends more of us down the road. By the new year Arcata will be a little less ragged than it is now but Julie and I will be long gone by then.
Last checked in with you all about the Kayak being stolen, which to me feels like another world. Maybe that is because we have not gotten out of the the coastal zone for a few weeks. Although the sun has been shinning for an unusually hot summer here the cool damp of Arcata seems to hang over the psyche. Life is pleasant enough though in Humboldt County, with lots of summer festivals and fresh local foods. We try to get out and enjoy the vibrant social scene. 2 nights ago we visited Eureka, 10 minutes to the south, for the Chris Berry Trio (CB3) at the Red Fox. It was a really late show but rocked our socks off. The trio was a team of Chris on umbira, with the bassist and drummer from Brazilian Girls creating their dance hall sound. As an add bonus Chris invited to the stage some of his local hommies playing a key board, marimba, conga drum, bass umbira, and gourds, to fill out a jammin’ night of African rhythms fussed into a techno like sound. Chris would vocalize spontaneous melodies about love beauty and the nature of Oneness over the body bumpin’ groove. A fabulous event! Go see it if it comes near you!! In the top 10 of live shows I seen in my life!
Julie got up for work the next day still a little sleepy. She works at Renata,s Crepere as a hostess/barista. This is a 4 day a week job and the super friendly staff and paycheck make the often monotonous hostess duties bearable. The menu consists of crepes and salads. As soon as you walk into Renata’s the sweet smell of syrups mixing with brie and coffee carry you away, helping you land in a Parisian cafe. I have not yet had a crepe there, but they look really good. After Julie gets off work she returns to the cozy comfort of Dolores.
Our evening routine consists of going to the Co-op to buy our dinner, return to cook in Dolores, clean-up and drive to one of our preferred sleeping spots (3-4 quiet flat sites,) and either playing cards, reading books, or watching a movie until bed. (Our movie parlor is the coziest ever. We set up our computer plugged into the van stereo lay back on our bed to be carried away to another world.) Come morning we do the same, brake down the bed room into the daytime van, drive to a different stop in the city, go get our breakfast food at the store, etc. This is our street life. 2 days a week we pose as college student and make use of the pool locker room showers, (or shower at a friends house.) I’m off to cook breakfast now. Check you later! light and love zach
Life on the road has morphed into hanging around on the street passing the time with whatever. Playing cards, dumpster diving for bike parts etc, wandering from the plaza to our friend’s places, throwing a frisbee on the field or the disk golf course, going for a bike ride, having a beer at happy hour, and other fun types of activities. Arcata is nice enough city for this but for Julie and I the “whatever” is a tiring process. Being summertime, the long days give lots of opportunity to be active and pursue the doing of life. Summertime is also nice for vacationing and camping by the river. We got to the river last weekend with some friends and genuinely enjoyed 3 nights camped above a deep green river. A fire every night, swimming and cards all day. In Willow Creek the heat of the day topped out at 90 F and at night it fell to around 65 F. The Trinity River was refreshing yet pleasant any time of day. I found time to get our kayak off the roof of Dolores and do a 15 mile paddle. It is a fantastic river to float down and the class 2+ flow keeps it exciting. I did have to stop once along the way to bail out my boat because the huge, old, gortex, spray skirt leaked and often caved in under the weight of the turbulent water coming over the bow. Besides all the small stuff that needed fixing on the kayak it worked for me and I enjoyed the evening float with all manner of bird life, deer, river otters and gorgeous mountain scenery. It turned out the evening float was a farewell voyage for the kayak as someone else decided to have it for theirs. From where we left it on the beach I would not have guessed that the next morning it would disappear so easily but, off it went. I have tried to refrain from judgement about why or what should have been done to “save” the kayak. Both Julie and I genuinely feel okay that someone else has it to use. We had barely been using it so it is easy to see how our vibrations had stopped resonating with this huge piece of equipment. It might have been nice to sell it but my “make do” attitude had several fix-it projects lined up for it. I had already started making a trailer for pulling a kayak with a bicycle (now it will be for a surf board.) So the kayak has gone off and we have let it, for this allows us to feel lighter. We might hope to recognize those things which weigh us down on our journey and actively transform them into joy. But grace is a mysterious process and we are just glad to let it unfold and not muddle it up with thoughts like; why didn’t we put the kayak on the van that night, should we file a police report, or those thieving jerks at the Kimtu Swimming Area. We know all those types of thought are toxic and only bring our vibe down. It is lunacy to believe that the laws we create in our culture are the best way for this word to order itself. Plus it feels nice to give things to others and apparently this takes many forms.
The weekend is hear again and we will enjoy free live music on the plaza here in Arcata. The parties will be numerous! Hopefully working will be on the agenda for next week. Both Julie and I would love more focus in our daily activity and to be compensated for our contribution. For now we ride the wave as it breaks. Light and love. Zach
p.s. Here is a pictorial journey of us preparing Vince's Summer Solstice Kimchi!
The gray skies of June have returned this morning, after 3 long, sunny summer days. Often the sea fog will burn off by the afternoon and leave Arcatians to enjoy an evening of sun (sunset around 9:00). Both Julie and I took our first ocean dip yesterday after soaking up massive warmth on the sunny beach. I even got a little sun burn on my shins (my sweaters protected my upper body, luckily we did not need our wool hats, as the pacific coast is one big air conditioner).
I have been joining friends and others for a pick-up game of ultimate frisbee on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays. I have been trying to make it to every game as the workout is terrific. Most who show up are league players, which means that the level of play is skilled and fast. We do not yet have too many other regular events in our schedule. We hope that employment is just around the corner, but so far our leads have been non-responsive. We feel in a bit of a pickle about the monetary situation. As we continue to go into debt living our lives, it becomes increasingly more challenging to stand on the sidelines of our unknown jobs and cheer. We both have picked out some areas we might apply our skills should we be hired, and we have somewhat settled for the most immediate probability of employment for the most return on our efforts and yet our heart is not in it. And of course the sour taste of the pickle (not that good pungent tang from great kimchi, more like a mushy cuke that has rotted in it’s dilly brine from some off element) is that we are wandering through our day bored of the “vacation.” We often get comments about our journey like “living the dream,” and other such archetypal postulations. Well, the “dream” can only truly relate to the dreamer, and while we are still free from major tie-downs in this physical world, we have come up against possibly our biggest fear.
With all the pieces of urban life placed before us; clean beautiful apartments for rent, potluck dinners a few nights a week, available sauna, friends who love to have us around and join us on various activities, a small patch of soil to plant a garden, we feel ready to put down some roots and let the seed of our cross country journey sprout up. We do ask the question, “if we did not need money so urgently would we keep traveling on, visiting other friends and family, neat places and other summer time splendor?” I trust that our need has arisen out of our deep desire to “rest” awhile from the constant rolling along, to grow out the experiences of friends and community life. We feel fortunate to have found Arcata and this section of the Pacific coast. We are glad to be consciously making many of our decisions. Having been here slightly less than 3 weeks, I try to find the grace of patience and let myself off the hook of worry. As we both work through the challenge of opening our hearts, we are beginning to release the fear that we have too little money and that there are no jobs. There is enough! There is of course more than enough! This is an infinite place (universe) with infinite potential of infinite possibilities! And, if there is one thing that I trust, it is in the infinite love of all. Infinity is such a vastness that my human mind will never be able to see into all the possibilities, yet I know that the impossibilities are not contradictory to my situation or potential. As a matter-o-fact I pray that impossibilities enter miraculously into my experience.
Having rambled on enough for now I just wanted to let you all know that we are experiencing a change in our life and as the landing here in Arcata, Ca continues to unfold I will keep you posted. Love and light, Zach.
Dolores, Julie and I have all made it to Arcata, albeit at different times. I have been here since vacationing with Jim, Greta, and Sarah among the sands and redwoods of this lovely coast. The first week of June saw us camping at Patrick’s Point State Park and hiking along the Rim Trail and Agate Beach. We all enjoyed the feasting of creative camp cooking usually over a drift wood fire. I thoroughly enjoyed the companionship of good friends and their love and support. This mini Vermont reunion was a special time and we were all sad to have Julie leave us. She was tragically called to Louisiana and her family’s side as her father passed away from a heart attack. She was able to spend the last few hours with him. She bereaved this time with her siblings and mother. After holding space in Slidell, Julie joined me and Dolores in Arcata.
Dolores had only arrived one day before Julie and was still nursing a “cough” from the highlands of Mt. Shasta. When I came to the coast with Jim and Greta in the fast, rented Nissan Altima, I had safely parked Big D (Dolores) curb side between 2 churches in Mt. Shasta. The reasons for this are a series of decisions I had to make in the moment (like all choices are made). Big D was not starting and running smoothly. The path of least resistance showed itself to be, stay with my friends and leave Dolores to have her quite meditation on the mountain side among the pious. When I returned to Dolores parked securely in the shade I took a long nap and then cranked her over for a rough start. Not being able to keep her running I was just about to call my mechanic, Larry. Then after one more smack on the Double Relay she started and ran smooth. I test drove her: Success! I stopped by all my friends houses to bid farewell. Still the van started. I was ready to drive; to go for the coast and my change of lifestyle. Yet it was getting dark so when my friend, John, offered me a big soft bed after my shower I said yes.
In the morning Dolores and I started beautifully in the early light. We were on our way to Arcata! I did stop on the Trinity River to clean house: a few dishes, the carpets, pack up some of the vacation toys, a swim. Just 2 days before I was riding by this emerald flow in a strangers truck headed up stream.
To get myself from Arcata to Mt. Shasta I chose to hitch-hike. Usually I think of hitching as a fun activity but this time I had been enjoying the vibe in Humboldt County and my new friends, the Dunning Family. Making my own choices was easy with the freedom of the moment and living out of a backpack. But the call to reclaim my life with Dolores and Julie compelled me to make the “swim” up stream to Mt. Shasta, 250 miles. So one morning I stuck my thumb out next to the on ramp of the 101 N. 6 rides later I was 60 miles up canyon sitting on the side of the road wishing I had brought along more lunch. At 7:00 pm I had avoided a torrential rainstorm and while I digested my salami and ice cream I was deciding between calling it a night and holding out for one last ride. One last ride brought me into Redding with 15 minutes of light to get a ride out. No dice and after I walked into the Safeway to get my dinner the skies let lose again. Sleeping in a doorway that night I thought a lot about the safety of Dolores and the security of having a home to go to at night. It rained all night that night in Redding. I woke up early and tried to catch a ride with the early morning crowd. After a few hours I was tired and ready to be where I wanted to be. I called Julie in Slidell, and she found the Greyhound bus station on-line for me and a bus I could soon be on. Yes! I was soon on that bus, and not too long after I was taking that long nap in Dolores in the shade.
Sorry to all those of you left in the lurch by last weeks polyfaceted, hasty entry to this blog. Often when I am writing online, and on the road, we come to that time when the coffee shop (or where ever) closes their doors and we have to go. Julie is very tolerant and rarely is the force that dictates whether I can get out all that floats in my mind or leave the thought interrupted.
So we were in Mt. Shasta with all the these amazing experiences for which we had actually been asking, like when we were driving across the deserts of Utah imaging the wonderful new work we would like to be part of in California. We both loved mocking up the building of an outdoor wood fired oven and then enjoying the satisfaction when at the Earth Day festival (a month later) a new friend was looking for volunteer help to mix and make a cob wood fired oven display! (This was not a finished work, but the essence was there.) This asking has mostly been done on a spontaneous level, sprouting out of the journey on the road. This is great but we want a deeper connection to clarity and purpose in our choices. We hope to dream our biggest dreams, to feel and surrender to those places of the intuition with a whole hearted yes!, trying not to get gummed up by the little traps of logic or the rough, rights and wrongs of reason. The highest part of ourselves can access a reality which the small mind of limited experience can never know. Luckily we can know this and saying yes to the impossibility of mystery, keep diving deep into the source of love: perfect, infinite and unchanging. For now we are living in a finite illusion of change wrought with opportunities for karmic growth.
The skiing, the white water rafting, the milking of a cow and goats, the meeting of new and friendly people, the stimulating conversation, and the cozy riverside campsite were all somehow unsatisfactory to the feeling centers we have been trying to cultivate. Please don’t think that we are unhappy or disappointed with our time in Mt. Shasta. I am trying to give a sense of our curiosity at being attracted to this place and experience on the mountain, and then not really wanting to stay put, or continue living at the foot of the holy volcano. We need to land somewhere, to get jobs and feel some roots growing in the spring rains. Our friends are all telling us how great the summer is on the mountainside: good skiing until July, deep clean swimming holes, sunny every day, but not too hot. These are all the things we were hoping for as we journeyed across the country in Dolores. Moving on from the identities we left in Vermont is a long inner journey. I have begun to see that landing in Mt. Shasta could create a space where we would remember all the identities we love and hate about ourselves. Owning up to all of the pictures of ourselves, as we think we are, as we want to be, and what we want to let go of, gives us permission to see them come into reality. And they will, over and over again, as long as we so tightly hold them. Julie and I have both been carrying some “baggage.” (No big surprise, I know. Don’t we all that’s why we’re here to forgive the “baggage.”) By choosing a place to journey to and flesh out our identities, many of which are still in tow from farming in Vt and some older ones rising to the surface as well, we gave ourselves an opportunity to let them come up and release. Mt. Shasta is a well grounded place on this earth, (also quite well connected to the cosmos) and as we become reacquainted with our phantoms we are able to see how wonderful they are and let go of those which no longer serve us. The examples of all this rambling introspection are in the skiing which is fun but not the shear bliss I know I can live, the milking the one family cow and helping brainstorm about milk shares is exciting but not the full time community project I feel tugging at my core. (I came back to these thoughts 3 days later.)
We have traveled far since I wrote that last passage. From Mt. Shasta we decided to reacquaint our vibe with the coast and the fog of Humboldt County. We drove up the Scott River and down the Salmon River toward the sea. Along the often one lane, windy, cliff side, road above the Salmon we encountered numerous bits of rock fall which the rain of late had been so kind to throw down on the pavement. Usually I would just avoid the larger stuff and drive through. After our first flat tire we ventured on more cautiously. The spare only had about 10 psi (normal and safe at 35 psi) so we were going slower than I might have, if we still were going to Arcata for the evening. When we blew our second tire on a batch of very small rocks in the road we could only pull over and camp out for the night. Easy to do when your in a remote river canyon with Dolores. The morning dawn saw a little sun but no cell phone service. As I was packing up both tires, thinking I would try to get at lease one fixed and back to the van a.s.a.p, my first ride stops to see if we need help and tell us that we cannot leave the van here as the local drunks like to burn vehicles. That made me feel better (not!) After driving around the canyon with no luck fixing the tires because of gashes to the side walls, we pick up Julie (now Dan does not like the idea of leaving her alone for hours,) and drive down river toward Ereka and the first available tire shop open on Sunday. (This is certainly some kind of miracle I keep telling myself.) In Willow Creek (25 miles from the van,) the first shop we stop at actually has someone there but it turns out only because another emergency client has paid the $80 Sunday gate fee. He will have to charge me $80 as well to sell me a used tire and put it on the rim for us; even just for the used tire (which I could have put on at another shop that was open but had no spear 14” tires.) Our ride with Dan over the next set of mountains and away from our home parked back up river seemed too much (what with drunken pyromaniacs roaming the canyons.) Julie and I really don’t live in that kind of fear. Actually the amount of money needing to be spent to fix the emergency at hand was real enough fear for me. I was doing my best to see the humor in the situation and forgive myself for my limiting beliefs about my financial situation. Even at the time, I could sense that this wonderful scenario of 2 tire scrapping flats in one rainy day, as Julie and I are driving to the town in which we hope set up jobs for the summer, and gain a firmer foot hold on our finances, is not great irony but the magical moment to forgive in the now. It is exactly the type of experience I want to be having because, I want to be on the cutting edge of creative living and I believe that to be; letting go, forgiving, surrendering to love and not even noticing as the world of fear and lack melts away from me.
So I did my best to forgive (mostly myself here,) and I cooked up a plan, at the heart of which was safety and ease for Julie, Dolores and I and not my fear that I couldn’t afford to fix these gashed tires. The shop attendant agreed that his tow truck, which was already up near Dolores, would tow the van to the service station, about 14 miles away from Dolores, on our AAA account. There would be a $45 charge for the miles over our tow limit and with this transaction he was to sell me a spare tire for $25 and look the other way about the $80 gate fee. Okay my “I don’t want to pay a lot” fear poked it head in there, the sneaky little devil. But this was great, first we know that Dolores would be going somewhere safe no matter how long it took us to hitch a ride back up canyon, and second we now had all the parts to put Dolores back on the road we just had to get to her. We did but not before lunch. If possible always hitchhike when your blood sugar is up. It makes your patience go much further. Two rides, the first of which clinched it for me in regards to this being a miracle. The second was the perfect ride, the kind that makes you feel like you stopped to pick yourself up. It was not quite even 2:00 pm when I walked out of the service station where Dolores was now parked with the new spare tire to put on. Put a little fuel in the tank and we are on the road again.
Back in Arcata we enjoyed a gorgeous evening walking around with our friend, Joan. She is introducing us to a world we feel very attracted to. more soon. love and gratitude, zach
Where are you? How is the journey progressing? These are the questions, along with the other day to day concerns, into which we are excitedly digging. Where on the planet?, is Arcata, CA. We have been here for seven days now and wonder is rolling out like a red carpet at a gala ball. The outdoor activities include a lot of beach walking listening to the roaring pacific, kayaking on river sloughs with tidal flows and tons of bird life, a small bit of biking on a loaner, and the star in the crown: hiking into the old growth of the coastal red wood. We did two days in the forests of Prairie Creek State Park, adjunct to Redwood National Park. The state park is beautiful and a local favorite. We hiked, with our packs, 5 miles into a wonderful campsite. The first night we shared the space with Andres, who understood our need to spontaneously leave the mountains to see the coast. “Sometimes you just need to be moving on to something new.” he said. This vibe prevailed as the magic of the giant trees and lush ecosystem lulled us into a coastal stupor, the effects of which we are still feeling. We came out of the forest in love with life and wondering if our plan to continue up the coast to the Smith River and over to Ashland, OR was really for us. So as the Humboldt fog settled onto the sunny forests we hatched a new plan. Farmers market in Arcata on Saturday morning, and give some more time for the town to show itself to us.
We had eaten all our fresh food on a perfectly packed meal plan in the backcountry. By perfectly packed I mean we ate all our meals feeling satisfied at the end and the food ran out at our last meal so the hike out was light and easy. To clarify further, Julie and I like to eat real food in the backcountry. This means that dinner on the first night is usually steak stir-fry as a one pot meal (we don’t eat too many grains since we have adapted to the Vreeland’s Mycotoxin Cleanse.) Eggs, sausages; both fresh and cured, and fresh veggies make up the bulk of the rest. We did enjoy fire baked potatoes with sour cream, salt and pepper for dinner on the second night. They were topped with asparagus and a red sweet pepper sauteed in butter all of which followed grilled, sweet Italian sausages. And for dessert - just kidding, we were stuffed after that feast, and Julie wants me to say that we did forget the chocolate altogether. This is our only oversight on the culinary front and we got by on raisins and almonds. Our packs were still heavy but not nearly the weight they carried into the Taos backcountry for the snow camping. The spring sunshine of the California coast is about 5-6 weeks ahead of the Vermont spring bloom.
Back in Arcata, the farmer market has begun by the ring of the bell and we were ready having arrived 30 minutes early. (Wow for Julie and Zach.) The market is set up around the town square very similar to Burlington, VT’s market. Lots of potted plants from trees to lettuce starts. The fresh veggies are mostly leafy greens (our favorite) and there are beaucoup de eggs. Also we bought a dozen oysters, a 1.3lb of grass-fed organic ground beef, and local hulled oats (a very rare find.) After that round of shopping and soaking it all in we unload at the van. While I am unpacking and Julie is sipping her coffee, up walks Joan who asks “Are you really from Vermont?” Before I say “Yah” I ask her if she was really raised by wolves like her bumper sticker claims. She says “Yes” and we say “yes” and that is how we met Joan.
Is it possible that we will "land" here in Arcata? Yes . . . but we still cannot yet say it is a firm plan. We are headed back toward Mt. Shasta for a regroup with snow and our friends on the mountain. love and peace zach.
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The day ended at 5 pm back at Dolores after 20 miles in the sandy Paria river. Our feet hurt and our legs were sore. Julie's knee is still tender and stiff. We loved every minute of it. Our camp site that night was 1/2 mile away under some old cotton woods along the Paria River, and we slept for 13 hours! Fantastic adventure. love zach.
