Sunday, April 12, 2015

561 Mile Saturday Night

Over the last 15 years of travel, I have only three times driven over 500 miles between saturday and sunday events. 

Yesterday began at 5 a.m. with a spirited unloading of the circus. Great sun and conversation. Live music and a bouncy castle at this true paddle festival.

No time for dinner. Nosh on nuts and vegis in the vehicle. Later that night, a microwavable rice and curry pouch at a truck stop in Corning California is whipped up.  Thermosed for a paced consumption. 

I drove until 2 a.m. hauling my heavy trailer for the challenging 250 miles of Northern California and Southern Oregon. It would be no problem in a lightly loaded car. Having lost a transmission and drive train on the same road years ago, my nerves were strung a bit tight. Smashing 15 canoes just last week in Montana helps you realize just how fast the $#÷/ can hit the fan.

I spent some of my drive thinking about the demo I just attended. I am sure there are a lot of tired folks sleeping well in their beds just miles away from the event site. I slept for 3.5 hours inside of a dark trailer still fresh with the smells of the day prior. Sand, lake water, sunshine and sunscreen lotion. The back of the casino parking lot where I eventually parked and slept in my trailer was quiet. It wasn't until the morning that I realized the lot bordered a cemetery just a few feet away from where my head rested. It is a bit ironic that my nomadic existence pauses briefly at this sedentary and fortified Native American casino. Perhaps the small percentage of my blood that is Sioux is what fuels my disposition toward staying on the move.

5:30 a.m. ... cold in the trailer. Quickly assemble the stove and boil water for my French press and instant oatmeal while the truck engine warms to continue the battle up and down the hills of Southern Oregon.

I miss my kids. I miss Karyn. Just a few days ago my third child  said his first words," Thank you". My daughter's first word was "duck" and my middle child's first word was "Harper", the name of his older sister. And this third child, Chase, says "thank you". I was able to catch this wonderful moment via a quick email video. I am thankful they're all healthy and am grateful for Karyn's strength and all of our friends and family that help her while I am away.

Here is a text I just received from her describing their morning:
"paxton just told me to like Harper's project better than his. When I asked why, he said he wanted her to be happy. the sweetest brother ever."

I can not take responsibility for this kind kinship but I am going to take inspiration and try to practice selfless love at the event I will attend today. 

Today's small event is rewarding because you have time to make new friends and share in some stories. We all try to paddle with that playful spirit that I so often have to miss seeing in my children.