07/01/2016
Days 3-5 - Coastal Shangri-La for Travelers
So after my second night up in the mountains, I decided that it was time to eat something else other than peanut butter sandwiches and nuts. My poor planning in relation to groceries definitely made me impatient to visit a store. So, continuing to follow the calling for more bodies of water, I headed to the coast and visited Fort Bragg, CA.
But before we get there, I just want to say how much I love HWY 20 and Jackson State Forest. The mountainous roads hugged tightly by the Redwood trees made for such an enjoyable and stimulating drive. I often caught myself fluctuating between madman speeds through tight turns to crawling paces equally dangerous as I took in the scenery. I’ll be honest in saying that my skills in photography were not there yet to help capture the wonders of this national forest. Albeit, it was pretty frustrating with how busy that road is during the day. I’d like to go through once more someday taking the backroads without the fear of my civic’s chassis ripping off.
The thing that I noticed about Fort Bragg, however, is that for a population of seven thousand people, it was busy. Busy by the waves of bodies passing through the touristic coastal area. I felt as if the residents of this town existed only to cater to these tourists and stood behind the counters resembling like that of the ocean cliffside waiting for the waters to wade. I tried my best to chat with some of the locals to get an idea of places to go where there wouldn’t be so many crowds and was met with unsure responses as to activities outside of touristic sceneries.
Strangely enough, I found myself being more engaged by the other travelers that have parked themselves off of the side of the roads to avoid overpaying on campgrounds or hotels.
Strangers that would greet you with a smile or nod to acknowledge that you were both aware of each other’s presence; and also resonated a mutual feeling of the need to share in the moments, but was hesitant on breaking ice with a stranger. After the minutes passed helping to dilute the awkward tension of unacquainted neighbors, I find myself the courage to strike up the conversation. I found it most easy for me to do whenever I saw a camera in their hands, whether it be a digital SLR, an iPhone, or a drone.
I noticed was that I would normally be jealous of someone’s nifty toy or “better” belongings, but during my time out here, I find myself feeling more proud of my workarounds to their luxuries and how homely I was able to make my small civic. Everyday I find new tricks to make it more comfortable and now when looking at the other travelers’ gears and equipment, I don’t feel a sense of envy, but rather that of indifference. It’s a small personal growth, but I’ll take it nonetheless.
These exchanges were warming and compliment the cool breeze of the sea. It helped relieve the loneliness of the road. Hearing other travelers tell their stories made me appreciative of my position of being one as well. Appreciative of some of the ingenuity that you are able to share to make travel life easier. (I’ll admit, however, that I was not appreciative of whenever they would try to mimic the photos I was trying to take, but I enjoyed their company nonetheless in sharing the captivating coastal sunsets.) I would share their stories, but honestly, there’s nothing noteworthy about them. I could try to make my encounters with a northbound Alaskan photographer or a grieving soon-to-be-maybe divorcee more grandiose than what they were, but what made the experience was just the moment in itself; to be able to share genuine moments with a stranger in a way you couldn’t really get without traveling.
