North

Today I left to begin my road trip north.

Originally, the plan was to have no plan. Just do a free form exploration. The hope is to see some of Oregon, Washington, and British Columbia. But if any one of those places holds onto me, the others can wait. I'd give myself around a month. Maybe more if I couldn't bear to leave.

But then I got an opportunity I couldn't pass up. One that required some planning. My old friend Darren has the time and desire to come meet me and spend a few days on the road. Since he'll need a plane ticket to do so, at least one time and place must be concrete.

The only thing more rare and cherished than one of these two month travel jaunts of mine, would be a few uninterrupted days with Darren. As he lives on the East Coast and has a busy life of his own, this opportunity may never again resurface.

Plan engaged.

So today I left with a loose agenda to make some daily hops and skips up the Pacific Coast in order to reach Portland or Seattle by the 11th.

First stop: Gualala.

My mom stayed there once awhile back and considered it quite charming, so I made it my first stop of the trip.

Part of the point of buying Rusty the camper was to sleep in her as often as possible, both for the charm of it, and to save money on accommodations. I have been told that once one gets north of Mendocino, it's quite common for folks to just park and sleep along the side of the road and generally no one minds. But I am conditioned to city life. A life of rules and tickets and easily spooked town folk.

As I rolled into Gualala around sunset, I still hadn't really hatched an exact plan for where to sleep. The entire way up Highway 1, I didn't see even one single van or RV on the side of the road. I saw a couple of pay-to-stay lots asking around $20. Just to park? That's city prices!

I started to get nervous. It seemed clear that parking on the highway in the middle of nowhere was just an easy target for highway patrol. I would at least need a town where other cars were parked so I could blend in a little bit. I read that motel parking lots and neighborhoods were good candidates. But the lots I found were just too sparse. I'd still be one of the only cars.

As a cop out, I drove up to one of the regional campgrounds I had passed just before town. I'd have to pay, but at least I'd be legal. But, alas, the campground was full and the place was crawling with park ranger cars. No flying under the radar here.

So I drove back to town and up a residential road into a neighborhood, but Rusty, with her put-putty VW motor, was like a noisy beacon for creeped-out neighbors to come stare me down off their street. Yikes.

So there I was - That Guy. The scraggly dude in the funky old van, in the dark, circling the quiet streets of this charming town - evaluating each potential spot. Too public, too private, too dark, too bright. It seemed like the town was set up mainly for tourism, mostly hotels and motels. Who was I to skirt their economy by getting a free ride?

Then I found a street. Behind a shopping plaza off Ocean Drive, with a couple of other cars parked there too. No one around to bother - at least not until morning.

I parked the van, got out and walked around the corner to check out the surroundings. I was satisfied. I got in the van and then just sat in the back in the dark for a few minutes. I think I was waiting for some security guard to come banging on my window. I didn't feel free and relaxed. I felt like I was hiding from the world.

After each passing minute with no one rousing me, I proceeded to eat my dinner, organize the van a bit, and do a bit of writing.

After an hour or so, I began to relax a little. But not enough to turn on a light.

I decided I'd go to sleep early, and get up at dawn before anyone came to open their stores.

This is an adventure indeed.