A few weeks ago, before we moved to our house on the edge of the forest, and one of the last times I pulled into the Maston trailhead parking lot in the dark, I was not surprised to be the only car.
Friends! It seems like forever, but it has been a tumultuous time. RK and I have been finding our way in Central Oregon, which has a different kind of pace, style, and energy than we are used to.
As a wave of Giant House Spiders migrates across our tiny house, the ever-present marmots have gone missing, and wildfire smoke chokes the mountains and rivers, it’s easy to think that we are all royally screwed.
RK and I have perfected our style of adventure in many parts of the west. We have finely honed our navigational skills to find solitude, open space and clean air. But we have a new home base.
We all have places that make our hearts expand and our minds calm. Favorite places that we visit and re-visit like a reliable best friend. Sometimes, however, you can be a hundred steps onto a trail you’ve never been on before and realize it is a home you never knew you had.