3998 km

We're home.  My original plan had been to blog along the way but after my first post, the trip took over and, well, I just never got around to it.  It's not as though I didn't have time.  We had more time than you can imagine: to drive, to read, to talk, to lay on fine sand beaches.

It took five days before I stopped automatically waking up at 5:30am.  Five days to truly settle into the idea that we were on holidays.  Five days before I let my mind start contemplating my life outside of the one that I'm currently leading.  Of course it helped that every night we crawled into the back of the truck by dark (8:30ish) and were fast asleep by 9:30.  We woke up slowly, sometimes reading a little before carefully crawling out of the back of the truck around 8am.  Not once did I get the head-nods while driving and I never drank more than a cup of coffee a day.  Can't ask for a more vivid example of how sleep deprived I normally am.

Napping in the Stinson Beach parking lot.  Atta girl.

We both read voraciously.  I started and finished Three Cups of Tea at the perfect point in the trip where I was allowing myself to think about where I want my life and career to take me.  It's an inspiring read about how big of a difference one person can make.  I highly recommend it.  N finished three books while on the road and is right now upstairs well into her fourth.

Taking advantage of the last of the day's sun on the beach at Cape Lookout in Oregon.

Two towns stand out in my mind from this trip: Arcata and Bolinas, both in California.  N's comment was that she liked Arcata because everyone seemed like a little bit of a hippy.  Of course we happened to be there during their amazing weekend farmers market so perhaps she had a bit of a skewed view of the population.  Having said that, I know what she means: the people there just seem more socially aware, more in line with our own moral compass.


Their market is a feast for the eyes. Try to imagine the Moss Street Market in Victoria only bigger and more colourful.  I wanted to take the whole square and transport it home!

N and I were also particularly taken by the well organized used book store - those of you who know N will understand the importance of the well organized part of that comment.  After an hour and $47 we came out with an armful of books: N had two new series and I got another, yes another, book on K2 as well as a 40th anniversary edition of Rachel Carson's Silent Spring.  I thought it was appropriate that I should re-read the latter at this point in time since I was just a year older than N is now when I read it the first time.




Bolinas is in Marin County, far and away my favorite area on the coast.  I love the idea that the locals keep pulling down the sign for the turn off from the highway.  Being there makes me feel as though I'm in on the secret even if only for a moment.  Contrary to popular belief, both times I've been there the locals have been warm and friendly.  It reminds me of Ucluelet without the rough edges of the transient fishermen.  One day I'm going to rent one of the wee houses on the estuary which overlook the surf break for a month and do nothing but read, surf, walk around in my bare feet wearing a warm sweater, cradling a mug of tea in both hand.... and think.

Surf break at the mouth of the river in Bolinas.

Cabins on the estuary in Bolinas

I'll add another post later on wandering around the Stanford campus with a teenager whose smile could not have been bigger, mocking the kitschy Fisherman's Wharf in both San Fran and Monterey, why I'm obsessed with the marketing strategy of Tilamook Cheese and explain why we're now kinda sorta country music fans.  But now it's time to sleep in my own bed.  It'll feel funny not to hear N's deep breathing beside me.