When the world speaks...

The most meaningful journeys that I’ve embarked on have always been the most unplanned. They hit me like a boulder of intuition, in one swift moment. That was the way it was when I first decided to come out West in 2011, sitting on the floor in my college apartment. In an instant, I went from having no sense of direction to a vivid image of where I was supposed to go. So when I experienced a boulder moment a few weeks ago, I didn’t question it. I told Leo to mark his calendar, be ready to pack some bags and hop in the car. 

The running theme of the month has been “trust in the unknown” so it meant a lot that Leo took no mind to not knowing where the hell we were going. 

On Saturday night, the day before we were supposed to leave, we’d learned that Kate was having another one of her comedy shows - a “Midnight Mass” theme - down in Portland so we opted to head out a day early and stay with her in the city. We got into town in time for dinner at our new regular spot where we’ve seemed to develop our new regular habit of meeting new irregular characters. That night, Johnny was our plus one at the table. He told us his story about being a music teacher and a self-proclaimed street-smarts bum in the summer. His charisma afforded him more acceptance among the waitstaff than his grungier counterparts who got driven away from the establishment for causing too much ruckus. The story of his musical endeavors - to give free, re-purposed instruments to kids and teach them how to make money on the streets - was intriguing but he also spoke a lot of circular jargon, reminiscent of the banter that I put up with during my ‘Diag Days’ in High School. As we excused ourselves and headed to the comedy venue, he provided good example for sharing a bit about the atmosphere of that past. 

Dinner with 'Johnny' as opposed to the more sophisticated 'John' he is with his hair pulled back.

We had an hour to kill in the courtyard of the ‘Funhouse Lounge’, where we thoroughly enjoyed  the Rob Zombie-esque ambiance and gained some new titles of musical artists. We plowed through the show with sleepy laughter and afterwards, followed Kate to her hotel where we promptly made a makeshift bed on the floor and passed out. 

Before beginning our voyage the next day, we went out for coffee with Kate and I grabbed some groceries for the road. I’d finally told Leo of our first destination: Crater Lake. 

It was a long first day of driving but we split it up nicely, stopping in Eugene half way for a break. We’d begun wandering and found out that there was a Hemp Fest happening at a nearby park. However, being the directionally challenged genius I am, I led us in the wrong direction and we mostly just ended up wandering the neighborhoods and talking for a while. It turned out to be time better spent because when we finally realized where the event was, we determined that the crowd was not anything we wanted to be involved with. 

We got to the rim of Crater Lake by early evening and although we had to make it around to the opposite side for the campsite, there was no way we could pass up an initial stop at the first lookout we saw. Blue has never been so breathtaking. The water from the lake was so dense and vibrant that it looked as thought you could paint with it. On the short drive from the entrance, I’d been reading a bit out of the panflet we’d been given, trying to make sense of the natural wonder we were looking at. 

We've arrived!

Before Crater Lake, the mountain that had occupied this space had been called Mount Mazama.  7,700 years ago, the mountain not only erupted, but collapsed in on itself as it’s unstable foundation blew. The large crater filled with rainwater over thousands of years eventually becoming the deepest lake in the U.S at 1,943 feet. Because rain and snow are the only water sources, the lake also boasts having some of the purest water in the world. Both of these factors contribute to the surreal color that had us immediately captivated: the purity of its hue is enhanced by the depth which absorbs all other waves of color. 

On the Northwestern side from which we’d entered, we also had the closest views of Wizard Island, a small volcano within the still-active crater/Caldera

. 

By the time we made it to the campground, it was well into the evening and I apologized to Leo in advance, should we be completely out of luck for a spot since it was first-come-first serve. We drove around the whole loop once, receiving an enthusiastic, incredibly inviting wave from a young man who had just pulled into his site as we were driving by. As we passed the final occupied site and I paused the car to consider our options, the same man who we would affectionately be considering our brother ‘Ben’, came to meet us at the end of the road. I rolled down the window as he approached with the same big grin and wave as he had before. “Hey! Are you guys looking for a campsite?!” I was relieved that my inkling of some good fortune had panned out. “Yes!” Ben explained that they were allowed two vehicles to a site and that we were more than welcome to share the land. He and his partner Sarah had done the same for another couple the night before and were now on generosity mission number three to go bring food and warmth to a motorist who’d broken down and was waiting for a friend. “You guys’ll have the place to yourself for a while. Make yourself at home! Feel free to use the fire!” We briefly met Sarah before they left and she pointed out a small nook on the other side of the stream behind their site where someone had made a makeshift table and stool for a perfect little home. We got set up, put some dinner together and then headed out just as the last bit of sun was setting to get a sight of ‘The Phantom Ship’, a large formation in the lake that looked like a ghostly pirate vessel. We stood there and watched the jagged pieces of rock become sillouhetted before being engulfed into the dark backdrop, holding onto every last piece of light.

We had intended to be up and out of camp bright and early to explore all that Crater Lake had to offer, but our efforts were easily thwarted by the enticing offer of coffee and good company. Absolutely no regrets to be had. When Sarah woke up, her and I immediately jumped into conversation, joined soon after by Ben and Leo and Alan, their rad hippie sculpture. Ben and Sarah were a couple months into a 2-year long investment to be on the road together. Originally from Indiana, it was Sarah’s first time really traveling. I never would have guessed by the way she carried herself and how savvy they seemed to be in their camping strategies and gear. We let the morning sun get higher in the sky and warm our backs as we sat at the picnic table with them for a couple hours, unconcerned with our preconceived “schedule”. When we finally began to prepare to leave, we asked where they were headed next. “We’re on our way to the Redwoods today.” No way! That was where we’d be going next as well. We excitedly exchanged contact info and they promised to get a hold of us when they’d reached a campsite so that we might be able to meet up again. It was ‘I love yous’ all around by the time we had packed the car and Ben made a point to emphasize that they were there if we ever needed anything. “Really. Thank you. I could tell how appreciative you were of us and that meant a lot.” 

The offer came in handy a lot sooner than expected when I went to start the car. We’d used it the night before to charge phones and the battery had run down. “Hey Ben, do you mind if we take you up on that offer?” 

Back in action, we headed to the visitor’s center to get some advice on how to go about our day. We’d missed the opportunity to boat over to Wizard Island which made our choices easier. Garfield Peak was a decent-sized hike nearby that would get us to the second highest point in the park overlooking the rim. The hike was estimated to be 2-3 hours and would allow us plenty of time to see a few other prime views before the day’s end. 

The hike was beautiful. The trail ran along the rim practically the entire way, begging one to stop every few paces. But even taking our time, we were up in probably just over an hour. We bided our time at the top, watching a group of hikers take goofy acrobatic pictures, which inspired me to try one of my own. It was another view that was difficult to pull away from but eventually we had to carry on. On the way back down, Leo walked me through a fictional realm that put a whole other perspective on the atmosphere around us.

The other 'Lady of the Woods'

We headed back in the direction of our campsite, stopping along the way to meet ‘The Lady of the Woods’ a 1917 sculpture carved into stone by a doctor that had been helping to build the first route along the rim. We then continued on to do a one-mile trek into Plaikni Falls. Paikni is a Klamath Indian word meaning from the high country which is indicative of its placement, snugly among the high rocks of the old growth forest surrounding the crater. We shuffled past a large tour group to beat the crowd to the falls where we basked in the water and the sunshine for a bit. Our last stop nearest to our site was the Pinnacles, a forest of Fumarole towers left by the eroding river valleys of the crater. These hollow, alien spires were formed by gases from the erupting mountain and solidified underground before erosion from the rushing rivers exposed them for all to see. As large as Crater Lake is, it’s incredible to imagine the land being even taller, from the 12,000 foot mountain to the crevices that used to cover these towers. 

Even though it was getting late in the day, we were both pretty excited to meet back up with our new friends so we decided to pack up the tent and head to the coast that evening. I took up the first leg, stopping at a funky co-op in Medford for groceries and dinner before Leo got behind the wheel for the last darkening, winding leg of the drive. I didn’t think about losing daylight and it was his first time night-driving on these sorts of roads but trekking along a bit slower than the speed limit and with podcasts to keep us alert, we made it safely to the pull-out for the backcountry camping trail that Sarah and Ben had found. My uncertainty about where the trail began was easily sorted out when a cop car followed us up the road and pulled us over as we crossed the ‘No Overnight Parking’ sign in the lot. There was no trouble once we confirmed that our friends had registered for a backcountry permit but the officers seemed eager to deter us from the experience, warning that break-ins happen all the time and we should bring “everything we could’’ with us. It wigged me out a bit but we didn’t end up having any trouble. We brought only what we’d need for the night, along with some libations and trekked the half mile to a site a stone’s throw away from the ocean. Once we’d set up, we joined Ben and Sarah over at a fire set up by the site of Kevin and Brittney, an expansion to our little traveling family. 

Kevin and Brittney were on the road for a while as well, bouncing around to various festivals in the Pacific Northwest. Kevin had been working towards his disertation, founded on his interest in the importance of “flow-states’’ for personal well being and human bonding. He was exploring how these manifest at festivals but over the next day and a half, I felt such a state manifest within our group. Sure, we didn’t have the music or the ambiance to throw us into that ethereal time-space, but our experience had equally negated time as we knew it. I felt like we reached a state within our group where the length of time we’d known each other became irrelevant and we were all connecting within the present moment. The next day had happened the same as the first with Ben and Sarah, the hours slipping away as we explored the tide pools by the ocean, pooled our resources together to make coffee happen, and got lost once again in one another’s stories.

In the afternoon, Leo and I managed to pull ourselves away long enough to do some Redwood exploration at Stout Grove, as per Kevin and Brittney’s recommendation. On our walk there, we passed over some of the clearest, most perfectly warm water we’d ever come across in the PNW. When we entered the grove, I was speechless. Even though I’d been in the Redwoods before, they have a way of instantly commanding their surroundings. Its a humbling, slowing experience and for a bit, all I wanted to do was lay there and feel cradled by their sanctuary. Eventually, we kept walking and picking out our favorite formations, ending with a wade in the water.

It was nearing a good time for dinner on our way back so we decided to pick up enough food to cook for the family. We heard back from them just as we left the store and they all got a fire going for veggie patties and dogs when we returned. We were granted one more amazing sunset after dinner and then carried our fire on late into the night, joined by another interesting fellow named James. James was on a “Great American Roadtrip” with his friend Tony, whom he’d met in North Korea. Tony was also from Indiana and had promised to give him an American tour, should they ever meet up again. James had been to 6 continents and was just about to head to Antarctica to complete his jaunt around the world. For as epic as his journey sounded, he talked about it very nonchalantly. He and I split hairs on how we perceived the wonders around us and the nature of people and got into a bit of friendly banter later on. Leo and I were the first to call it a night but I kept waking up throughout the next few hours, tuning into conversations here and there. The last I heard was the girls walking James to his tent before he promptly tumbled into a bush. He was a bit worse for wear the next day.

It was difficult to pull ourselves out of that flow and hit the road again, but we had solid 7 hours of driving to make it to our last destination: Manzanita. 

After breakfast, we made a couple trips to the car before waking Kevin and Brittney so we could all do a group picture. Multiple hugs and I love Yous were shared before we finally forced ourselves to turn and walk away, reassuring one another that it would not be the last time we saw them. 

Family photo!

The arduous drive up the 101 - however breathtakingly beautiful - was a bit sobering for me. Minds and hearts readjusted to the reality of time, which played a heavy hand before us. I set aside my somber state as we neared Manzanita and we got out of the car for an ice cream break at Tillamook. Back in my little coastal hometown, we met up with Mindi for dinner at the Pizza Garden and got a tour of her flourishing community garden plot before going to post up at her house for the night. Even though we were beat, we stayed up for quite some time, her and Leo bonding over growing up in practically the same neighborhood. 

I wasn’t in a hurry for our trip to end the next day. We went into town for coffee and then drove up to Neahkahnie Mountain, which I’d wrongly recalled to be a nice “walk’’ to the lookout over the coast. About the 20th switchback in, I admitted to Leo that I’d lied to his face. He took it in good spirits though, and agreed that regardless of what you want to call it, the view at the top was worth it.

Still smiling after making it to the top, right before I'm pushed overboard for my gross miscalculation ; ) 

Moving North, we then stopped at Oswald West State Park for what really was just a walk to the beach. Leo was absolutely taken by the beachfronts on the coast, vowing to covet this secret from all back home who apparently thought the beaches out here were poor quality.

From there, we stopped in Cannon Beach to see if there was a Goonies-related exhibit but after driving in circles just for visitor center parking, we learned the main Goonies attraction was in Astoria so we just decided to carry on towards Portland. 

We were officially back in familiar territory, the world around us beginning to go back to a different pace again. After some dinner and groceries, we were bound for Packwood. 

A good trip is one that, while never planned, feels in retrospect, like the world intended it to go in every way it did. There are a million and one ways that we danced with the universe in those five days. And while I didn’t know what was calling me to this journey in the beginning, I look back knowing that the world wanted to have this conversation with us. 

This next month moves into a completely new realm of unknown. All I can hope is that we don’t forget the footnotes and that we keep listening for the answers we’re supposed to find…