Travels Up the Pacific Coast, 1993 page two
Saturday
Hills Near Santa Barbara
I'm sitting in the shade of a tree in a place I've never known.
Christel and I reached the crest of these beautifully golden crumpled hills; tress which I don't know, but with jutting down branches from a well-ridged grey white trunk
I haven't yet slept after leaving Flagstaff and Walmart at about 8:00pm last night. Now its about 8:30am.
The flies are flustering near and around me and now a mellow breeze which sends the floorside to sweeping back and forth.
Cows make their calls down the hillsides, cars make their way through tightly winding roads, and I realize how tired I am, yet fulfilled in where I've come and how.
Christel is wonderful to travel with, and after coffee and croutons (potatoes) at a small roadside restaurant, we went into hysterical fits as we took pictures while the sun rose and smoked cigarettes and were ruffled by closely passing Diesels.
All this is new territory for me now, I revel in it and muse at all there is to see, such as the peculiar propellers on hillsides that seem so far the exclusivity of southern California. Joshua tress, with stately nature and admiration partly set forth by U2.
I'm looking forward to Vitamin E and no showers for awhile to rid myself (supposedly) of these accursed bugs. So I'm told Vit. E will keep 'em off you; mosquitos and other bastards which usually love the skin.
I try to find some redeeming value in these flying pestilence, but to this day, have found none so far. I remember sitting by the living room window as a younger and catching one, focusedly pulling off a wing, then another, and several legs, then only the body left to do nothing I could notice with me eyes until I finally destroyed the thing. Life would be easier if I could make peace w/ bugs.
Sleep very soon, then to experience Sequoia N.F. and various tress and lovelies and see Patty, but now just Sleep.
9:00am
Sunday, Sept.12, 93
Camp Nelson
Hoyt's Cabin
Sequoia Morning
Got up not too long ago to take a shower and start my ritual of waking.
I finally rid myself of the 48 hours of odours from preparation and road travel and various walkings through near wilderness.
Now here I sit with my granola mix and juice, having just smoked my morning cigarette, to listen and feel and see the forest.
Many birds through trees, squirrels up and down and chasing each other to the roof. Here comes the hummingbird again, to make me jump as it buzzes and drinks quickly from the feeder a few feet from my head. (I didn't know before they make such high chirping sounds.)
I made it through the first day! Which was actually two brought tiredly into one.
Christel and I definitely took the long way to Sequoia Nat'l Forest and to the cabin her Uncle owns. It's a wonderful place among beautiful dense trees.
Near this wraparound porch I sit on, there is a large and thoughtful sequoia which I see the squirrels like very much. The tree rises up on the east (is it east?) Side o the house well above most everything.
I don't know what I expected from a sequoia; red, soft bark and monstrosity, gentleness, but it is itself in brown and grey patches of bark outlined by black and deeper ridges. The branches come out most often in downswept fullness, it is coniferous, and the ends of the tree sweep back up again at the end, like a person holding their arms out in anticipation of a heavy load of burden.
Visited Uncle Hoyt yesterday evening in between giddy exhaustions. We caught him in the middle of an afternoon nap, but he had us in for coffee as I sat enduringly while Christel caught up with the family and reminisced.
We left there with the keys to the cabin, all the various keys for different locks.
The peace of the night was wonderful. Christel and I got ready for bed and slept downstairs where the back of the cabin sits on stilts and slept through our first night off the road.
Soon there will be breakfast and conversation and hiking and I'm so happy and content for this opportunity.
Letter to Andy Houpert
Camp Nelson stream & hike
Sept. 12, 93
Andy,
So now I have the time to write you as I sit beside this green and gurgling stream in Sequoia National Forest.
Christel & I have sat down beside the water in the middle of our hike near our cabin in Camp Nelson.
Christel's Uncle Hoyt let us stay up here for a few days, I know I'll get so much peace out of it; such a tranquil, soothing place.
Friday night we left with all the supplies from Flagstaff. We traveled on through the night and took pictures of the sun rising through mountains west of Barstow.
We had our first night's sleep Saturday night when we arrived at the cabin. 36 hours without rest! A new and interesting record for me.
All this now is virgin territory for me, and there is so much to learn and see. The sequoia trees are wonderful, rooted all along the mountainside and the patio of the cabin.
The bliss of solitude and natural homeliness is more than I thought to imagine; sitting in the cabin with Christel, everything one needs out the door.
Tonight we'll break out the wine brought for the trip and sit outside among it all, maybe get a little intoxicated or giddy.
I think of you and all my important friends on this trip, the journey. I want to share it all, and I will do so daily in heart and letters.
I'll be visiting my friend, Patty, in Visalia tomorrow, then possibly on to King's Canyon and Yosemite. San Francisco will be the next major stop along the way and I hope to stay long enough to understand and personalize it. I want to share their slice of the city.
Portland is still important to me to see, but I have no hurry but to celebrate my birthday in its streets on Sept. 25.
Thank you for your encouragement and enthusiasm toward my trip, I've been given so much to take with me!
I will write you again soon.
Openly, Morgan Sept.12
Sept. 12
Camp Nelson Stream
Water in the Forest. It's such a wonderful thing to have and play beside, or write with. There is always more character and usage by the neighboring plants, rocks and trees.
Moss grows along all here and is flowingly strewn on the rocks beneath the surface. I love the gurgle and tumble and trickle of the water and what it fosters in the back of my mind.
This stream is set against a climbing mountain on one side and a casual trailing road on the other. It winds in and around Camp Nelson, giving a flavor to a beautiful area that creates it all the more.
Soon I'll walk on and the water will continue its way.
Sept. 14, 93
Tuesday
Monterey, CA
Veterans Mem Park
Camp is set up and I lay in the tent as sunset does its thing into the ocean and I admire the strange coastal pines and their silhouettes.
An actual camping day; Veterans Memorial is a beautiful place that seems somewhat misplaced. Maybe a mile east of the ocean we are, with the irony of Monterey streets and tourists all down the way. But driving down this road called Jefferson, it turns from residentials and sidewalks to full, enclosing forest, trees that were not a m o m e n t before.
Forty campsites here, all pretty plotted together, but I can live with this. I'm in California for observation and experience of people as also self and nature. It is interesting to realize I am camping and within the forest, yet surrounded by many thousands of people outside this little park. Life goes on and I can remember that, even as I savor pines and nature sounds and nearby cacophony of traffic and highways.
I have enjoyed Monterey so far, but I see myself as much more removed as otherwise, so much new and very many happenings at once. Here I am with Christel, constantly meeting and learning her, meanwhile going into a city, seeing the ocean, experiencing new people and processing my responses and anxiety.
I'm calming as I go; taking as much as I'm capable with me. Tomorrow can never be accepted and fully understood without today to pave the way for it.
So I listen and learn and go as I'm ready. Christel is kindred in travel. Spontaneity has allowed us to flow one place to the next without any ill-perceived notions and expectations of this or the next destination. A fellow journeyer, I do say.
Monday we relaxed and cleaned and smoked and listened to various music. I enjoyed sweeping the wraparound porch of the cabin, sweeping of the pine needles and debris, pulling down the cobwebs from the siding; it was relaxing.
To have known two days without expectation or obligation surely healed and restored my sanity and nervous tension. Christel notices the muscles in my face and neck and shoulders have relaxed more than in the previous two months.
After taking up everything and loading for the road, we headed down the winding mountain ride to Porterville; back to Hoyt's place for conversation and meeting more family of Christel at the Tulare County Fair.
Not an extremely remarkable fair. Really, I only experienced a small part of it; a food stand, a karaoke stage beforehand, and the pony rides as I watched Christel's cousins go 'round on the behaviorized animals.
From Tulare, Christel and I headed to Visalia to see Patty once again after 3 years. We were to meet at Denny's and we were a little late to the diner from the fair.
Christel and I walked in; I was looking for Patty at the tables before entering the main waiting area, but then I noticed a woman alone and very much dignified and attractive. It was Patty I realized, a moment before she looked up and smiled as she recognized my eyes. Then there came from her a grin that I could so easily call her own. The expression which said through humorous, friendly wry "Morgan".
I've known Patty for over five years, having met in High School and infatuation on my part, and then evolving into a long-distance friendship, important and nurturing. She has copies of my poetry that not even I have (though I will soon be getting them back). I was happy to see her.
We sat and talked and Christel introduced herself. When Christel later went to the restroom, Patty told me she really liked Christel and was very happy we were 'dating'.
It has been almost amusing to have friends take definition of my relationship with Christel as 'dating' and 'wonderful' and 'good for me'. Though I understand where each individual is coming from and their meaning, I chuckle at the seeming likeness to talking about medicine or temporary escorts for the purpose of pleasing me and giving a reason to live.
Christel is someone I appreciate and admire and respect. She is my friend. With that first I will be happy with whichever way our relationship changes and grows best. Patty reminded me of this, as this is a decision I had made with her; to value a friendship to allow it to grow beyond temporary wants or needs.
And so we know each other for five years and hopefully forever more. This is also equally true with Christel. I want to know and meet her forever as we each individually change.
We said goodbye to Patty and stopped at Walmart for a few supplies and a carton of cigarettes, then heading on the road to ponder once again all that the day was.
Three-thirty am we pulled into Los Padres N.F. and paid 10 dollars for an utterly unremarkable plot to park and sleep.
The morning was infested with gnats and other bugs, hot and a little grumpy for me. But we moved on this morning through Carmel Valley (stopped for coffee) and then on to Monterey as we are now. Thus ends the day.