Generosity

Two Weeks On The Road

Jun 02, 2023

I’ve noticed a distinct difference in tone between Oregon and California. Our first night campsite in Oregon’s lovely state park was pristine, manicured, surrounded by fragrant lilacs and inhabited by somewhat stuffy people. California’s Siskiyou state park – our second night site -- is a bit rumpled, laid back and full of amenities, stores, bars, playgrounds...a tiny community nestled like a worshipping devotee at the foot of sacred Mt. Shasta. This mountain, revered by Native Americans, dwarfs everything around it, and still boasts a solid blanket of snow. I found myself hoping that bodes well for the end of California’s interminable drought.

Camp Siskiyou reminded me that travel is as much about the people as it is about the places. We chatted with our neighbors there as we set up, compared camping gear, and enjoyed a lovely evening. Our dog, Nutmeg, is still seeking her place in our traveling home, so she woke me at 2am to go out, and I found myself luxuriating in the deep expanse of stars – a lucky break.

Next morning, one of the sweet women next door offered to use her little dog to test Nutmeg’s over reactions to other canines. Generosity. It worked out well. There was congenial butt sniffing, no growls, and a happy chance for the humans to chat over coffee, ‘til Luke reminded me we had to hit the road for Concord.

Big surprise -- There’s a loooong stretch of butt-ugly California from Mt. Shasta to just beyond Sacramento. And we drove through it nearly six hours in 95-degree heat with no air conditioning (We were already getting only 12 mpg). We arrived at our friends’ party home sweaty, dirty, and happy to be car free for a few days. K and D, even their dog, were warmand welcoming hosts.

They gave us their time. They cooked us fabulous meals, shared their wine and joined us in rich, deep, and lively conversation about the ‘old days,’ the new days, children, and all life’s other challenges. They even shared their musical community of intelligent, compassionate, and fun-loving friends as we attended a gig with. D’s band. We learned to listen carefully to divergent political views and engage in sincere exchanges. I don’t think any minds were changed, but we acknowledged a common foundation of humanity and love – generosity.

We spent one wonderful afternoon in nearby Richmond with our niece, her husband and three adorable kids, aged 8, 4 and3. Uncle Luke was in heaven with three squealing kids climbing all over him under a blanket on the couch. We left wanting more of that family’s exuberance. Generosity.

After a few abundant days, we left the bustling Bay area suburbs for a day’s break between cities at Morro Bay. Montana De Oro State Park – Bear Mountain? Buttes line the beach like the White Cliffs of Dover, but their rocks are golden and graphite. The sand is coarse and colored like the buttes. The mornings are misty ‘til nearly noon. I got up early to take a walk – alone – through the hills. I chased rabbits and wildflowers with my camera. (We don’t have rabbits on our island; they can’t swim.) The foliage lining the trail was wet and the morning mist kept coming to cleanse my spirit of the metropolitan crush that is the Bay Area, California. It was deeply refreshing. Just what my soul needed to reflect on our time in Concord and prepare for the joy of seeing my kids in Los Angeles.

Another three hours in the car towing our wobbly home behind us in the wind and we landed in Malibu Creek State Park, surrounded by the California hills, populated with brilliant blue birds and scruffy ground squirrels who scattered in tiny squads as we walked the grounds. It’s hard to believe this place is within 15 minutes of the nation’s second largest city.

Here we got another chance to practice ‘dry’ camping. What this means is that we either carry three 40-pound jugs of water to fill the trailer tank or, if we’re lucky, we connect a hose to a nearby faucet. Malibu Creek gave us the latter option – Phew! And our solar panel provided light. But, of course, like all the mechanics of operating this home on wheels...it’s complicated...all part of the adventure.

Soon all four of my kids showed up with firewood, Thai food, and wine. THIS is my happy place. It launched a week of joy with them—Generosity.

THE GLITCH –

Day two at Malibu Creek, my youngest, M, and his new wife, S, surprised us with breakfast. It gave me a glimpse of how it would be to live close enough to drop by, and they were there to help us break camp so we could move to my other son’s driveway in LA.

As we started the teardown, I pulled the toolbox that had been outdoors behind the trailer and put it on the kitchen floor. Dozens of panicked earwigs swarmed the floor from under the toolbox and I quickly moved the 25-pound box outdoors as I frantically swept the critters out the door. Next, I hear Luke call my name in a faint voice, “I’ve fallen,” he said. It took me a heartbeat to cogitate that message. I looked outside to see him face down with his forehead on a concrete parking log, his arms and legs splayed around him like wet dish towels. By that time, my son and his wife were at his side and taking inventory. “I can’t move,” he said as visions of his future as a quadriplegic passed before my eyes. Even the dog was licking his ears in worry. M asked him to move an arm; he couldn’t. We waited in horror. M finally moved his arm, at Luke’s request, and helped him roll over. Eventually, his movement returned, he sat up, stood up and started instructing us on preparing the trailer for tow. Once hooked up, S took Luke and Nutmeg in her car; M and I drove the car and trailer from Malibu to Culver City. Even with his head injury, Luke managed to park the trailer in S and J’s tight driveway just off the sidewalk and under some palm fronds. Post-parking, I took him to Urgent Care where he had three thorough exams from delightful medical personnel, a CT scan, and instructions to take it easy for a few days, eating and drinking only clear liquids. Apparently, beer qualifies. It turns out the temporary paralysis was caused by shock. Phew!

We closed the day with a great dinner of homemade fajitas and lively conversation peppered with endless taunts about Luke’s colorful face. He now looks like a Māori warrior ready for the fight with a perfectly symmetrical pair of purple swipes under his eyes and a red stripe from his nose to mid-forehead.

Me? I couldn’t be more grateful for the serendipity of my son and his wife with us at just the right time. I probably would have found help if they hadn’t been there, but not of the quality, grace, and pure love I got from them....Generosity...and more to come.