thursday october 7 2020

a big roaring fire, even after i gave the last bundle of wood away. a starry night, not too cold.

sitting on a big log stump, huge really, maybe two feet in diameter, feeling the warmth of the fire on my back. the wood smoke still brings back too many memories of the fires on the coast of california, oregon and washington.

louie is stretched out with his back to the heat and light, half on and half off his camping pad. i’ll need to brush him before we head to sleep tonight as he’s picked up every needle on the forest floor here in Bryce.

details to pack up will come with the dawn. right now it’s time for contemplation and even the sweet nothingness/everything of the wood burning, the soft sigh of the evening breeze — nearly a presence in and of itself — the murmuring sound of other voices at other campfires, and many memories wanting to crowd in from the seven thousand mile journey this summer.

so many firsts and stretching the edge of my comfort zone. roads taken and camps made where i never had ventured before. and because of this, even greater horizons exposed.

people met and conversations had. connections made, and lost. sweet dreams and nightmares too. things that go bump and whir in the night and deep dreamless naps in afternoon sunshine with only the wind in pines boughs for company.

massive amounts of solid creative fun satisfying work — so enjoyable i have a hard time classifying it as work. this is simply how i live well.

louie is impatient and ready to climb into our tent. the flames have died down, now only embers glow. it gets just a touch cooler, jeans and cashmere are comfort.

may we all continue to live our edges to the fullest. best to each of you. namasté.

:: why

I’ve had a lot of friends tell me I should write. Here I am, writing. Or attempting to at any rate.

I’ve wanted to write something longer, but nothing ever broke free. Then a friend following my road trips told me about Travels with Charley and thought they could use an update, a refreshing in their words.

Particularly as a Californian, I’m familiar with Steinbeck’s books and have read a number of them, but never that particular title. I ordered it straight away on Audible and listened with joy. Curiosity. 60 years after the fact (!). Anticipation. Increasingly I was intrigued and inspired… we shared many of the same experiences. I was challenged… even as we shared similar experiences, the meanings had changed.

That makes this an audacious ode of sorts I suppose, even though I was traveling similar experiences for years before I listened to Steinbeck’s version.

I did think the similarities were striking, he sets off in his trusty vehicle, for three months, just before an election, with his companion blue poodle Charley. The trip I just came off was three months, in my reliable Hyundai hatchback, just before the 2020 election, with my companion, the blue poodle puppy Louie. Well, I still call him a puppy, he’s just a bit over two years old and still acts like a puppy much of the time.

more to come :: ©2020 sandy bassett