Ellen and I have just come back from an amazing 5 day road trip around Northern California! We started by driving up the coast to Fort Bragg, through the Redwoods National Forest, and continued up to Eureka to spend the night.
The next day we transited east, through Redding, up past Mount Shasta. And spent the night in a tiny town within spitting distance of Oregon.
The third day we made it to Lava Beds National monument. It was a whim of a goal, rather out of the way, but we saw it on a map and looked up pictures and had to go. We came in the back way, past the Petroglyph rock face with the most dense concentration of Native American art in California. After wandering around there we followed the small road and stopped at whichever caves/lava tubes that caught our fancy. They have names like Skull Cave, Valentine’s cave, and Big Painted Cave. Most used to have a permanent sheet of ice in the bottom, which sustained people and animals in an otherwise desert environment. Most of the ice is now gone or significantly receding. But the caves were still cold inside!
The desert landscape really vibed with me in an unexpected way. The colors are amazing.
That night we stayed up late and pushed all the way down to Bishop. The sunrise the next morning was incredible.
After enjoying the sunrise we made our way as far up into the Sierras as we could, to check something off of my bucketlist. The Bristlecone Pines; oldest living (non-clonal) organisms on this planet. I have wanted to meet them ever since my Dad mentioned them in the retelling of his cross-country trip from his youth. We couldn’t easily get to the grove of 5,000 year old ancients (including one named Methuselah), but we did hike 2 miles up the closed-off access road to get to the Schulman Grove, which has some 4,000 year old trees. The entire area is rocky, windy, and cold. It is amazing to see these twisted ancients, weathering the storm and simultaneously slipping quietly away.
The view of the mountains is gorgeous from there. We made a quick, spontaneous stop at the Buttermilk Hills – an area of monstrous erratics, on our drive back north to Tahoe.
Coming back to San Francisco has not been easy. Ellen and I had some difficult “heart to hearts” on our last driving day regarding communication. Of course this kind of thing often happens when you’re locked in a car with someone for five days-things build up and irk. This was very difficult for me, but of course it is what I asked for when I decided to come back to America and challenge myself to be around people again. This is particularly difficult now because, being back in SF after a week on the road, I am reminded of how excited and optimistic I was landing here a month ago, ready to settle down into something stable and new. I have met some incredible women who I’m sure will be good friends into the future but I am also leaving some fantasies behind.
On the flip side, some opportunities from my past may be manifesting. Max, who I met in Mongolia, has invited me to join him on his final leg of travel (he has been going for 16+ months now). While considering it I have also been thinking about going back to Vermont for a time this summer. I will be flying to the East coast in a few days to visit family, friends, and maybe sit down and start writing a book. I have been trying to figure out how to visit Carrie, one of my heart-sisters, in Mexico on my way to Jessica’s wedding in Guatemala. And after that-Nicaragua? Ecuador? Colombia? Peru? Chile? My heart is a mess of letting go of dreams and trying to build new plans to fill the space.
Amongst all that, I am also having a bit of an existential crisis. Here I am a year later, traveled around the world, grown in immeasurable ways, met dozens of wonderful people, seen things that I did not know existed. And yet I wonder, what’s the point? My mind says “everything happens for a reason,” and I know that lives touch each other in ways we don’t understand or are even aware of. But my heart asks “what’s the point?” I don’t have a home, I don’t have a job, I’m still single, I’m not any closer to manifesting my professional dreams, I have no more guidance into my future…..
I know it is temporary and I will soon see the truth and get answers. But right now is a strange time in my trip. I find myself pondering the life of monks. To give everything for one sole purpose, which does not manifest itself in tangible ways, with the belief that all the work we do will be ultimately recognized, or valued, or will somehow positively change the world… I am not comparing my year of travel to a monastic life, but I wonder what keeps them going. I am a process-oriented person by nature but at some point I would like some tangible results. (I am sharing this for the sake of sharing my emotional journey. Don’t let it worry you too much, I know it is only a temporary part of the process.)
Anyway, I thank God for California’s breathtaking beauty and mystery. That, in the company of my cousin who loves me, has kept me ultimately happy and in awe and thankful. I could almost start wondering what is the point of beauty, but I already know that that thing can not be put in to words and I dare not challenge the universe.