Sunday, July 31, 2016

On the Road to Find Out

I should have done this long ago. Why would the Universe give me the money if I am not supposed to spend it, be the flow, let it blossom, let it grow. Make the road so much easier for me. So I got this car in Port Angeles from some kindly old guy, saw his ad on the board in Safeway while I was stocking up on chow, and my bank was just a few blocks away. Perfect. The car belonged to his wife who died a while ago, he practically gave it away. Reminded him too much of her. Not a lot to look at, but it is one of those 1993 white Subie wagons that you used to see everywhere around Seattle because they never die. Seriously, you can not kill those things. Dent in the door, a lot of scrapes, way past 200k but built solid, low center of gravity, great for these roads and plenty of space with the back seat down. But it runs fine, brakes a little squeaky. Just needs a bit of cleaning up and cleaning out. The radio even works. I got a station with all that great music from the 70s I wish I would have been able to grow up with hearing for the first time along with everyone I knew. What a way to begin this journey of life. But I have what I have, music that those old people never knew was going to happen, so that is something to be so thankful for. I am going to spend the next few days being thankful. I spent the first night on a quiet street, had a smoke and went to sleep listening to tunes from long ago. Even the back seat is fine to curl up in. Nothing like the sound of all four doors locking at once.

I spent another day in Port Angeles, washed clothes, used the Wi-Fi at MickyD's while splurging on a McChicken and ice cream parfait (yeah, I know, but bread and cheese and fruit and carrots gets old), hit the Dollar Store, and then after all this mundanity insanity, finding quiet streets and hearing whatever the radio told me to listen to and writing some poetry and thoughts in the blank book I got at the Goodwill. If any of it is any good or lasting I will put it in here. I also got one of those hiking backrest seats for the beach, and an ice chest and a folding pad thing to sleep on in the car. Besides, I really didn't want to drive those winding, wet roads after eating that loaded chocolate I picked up earlier at the cannabis store down by the waterfront. That stuff lasts forever.

When I got back to Clallam the next day I knew that for whatever reason, this was going to be my home for a while. The first thing I heard when I stepped out of the car was the song of the  Swainson's Thrush telling me not to worry. The quarter store was open, so I got a better coat, some jeans and socks, another pair of shoes and a flannel shirt that's like new, since I don't have to keep everything in a backpack now. That place is better than Goodwill, whatever I might need, they seem to have, just as if something Larger is looking out for me. Besides running into that weird kid, and my beach house getting wrecked, it's all been on goal. And maybe that nudged me to go to town and get this perfect car for really cheap. It's all part of the road to find out and now I have a set of wheels. Sweet.

Between rain squalls I sat on the beach up by the point and then found a quiet place to park for the night. Saw that kid's VDub a couple times but I don't think he recognized me in this car. Not sure how friendly I want to get with some of the people in this town after that incident, at least until I know more about them and decide if I am going to stay here or not. Being a small town, I know they've already noticed me and are talking. On the other hand I have had some good chats, keeping it casual, with people I meet in Port Angeles, but I haven't met any angels there yet. Have to look up how it got that name.

The past couple days were just some driving and thinking and opening up again. Having a safe space on wheels helps a lot. People in Forks, the ones I felt moved, somehow, to talk to, were really pretty decent, the coffee shop, those running the shops still selling Twilight stuff, the guys in the hardware store, and they have a pretty good library too. When I was there with Mom and Trashley, what seems like a lifetime ago now, I remember being all snarky and kind of obnoxious about the stupid logger-heads but it feels like it's a different me now.

After a day there I went down to La Push, which is another Indian reservation, and it was even more beautiful than Neah Bay.

They have a beautiful world out there, but somehow it doesn't feel like my home, like I am only passing through. I guess I don't have so much Indian in me after all, and maybe some way they can tell. Had a little chat with the girls in the cafe, and a better conversation with the tourists from Germany on the beach, talking about the wildlife and logging. The one girl said she couldn't understand why Americans didn't do more to save the forests and the really old trees. Talked to some folks from the midwest who were just in awe of the scenery. I told them a little about leaving home. A month ago I don't think I would have been this open with people. Being out here has been so good. The only odd thing was this guy walking on the shore who kept looking at me. Kind of a shabby older guy, maybe 40, longish light colored hair, dirty backpack. When I looked back he went away. Didn't seem dangerous, exactly but I'm glad I didn't smoke anything that day. I think I need to keep to myself for now when I'm soaring. The little bird has wings to test. I was going to find a place to park my car and spend the night but that didn't seem like a good idea now. I'm sure the Indians native people here keep track of who's where, and this place is run as a business. I know there is a lot that they know that I never will.

I did pick up a couple sweets at a cannabis store in Forks for later. There was a sort of Saturday market going on and I saw that food truck again. Starving to Death, I think it was called. What a name. I guess maybe it has to do with the Twilight thing. The same tired looking lady running it, and she still didn't have anybody else that I could see. Now I wonder if she could use some help. I did work in the school cafeteria last year. It might be a good idea to start figuring out how to get a little money coming in. If I see her again I'll buy something from her and ask if she wants to hire someone. I still have enough money for now and another thing I need to learn is living now and not in my head. Knowing what to learn, when i need to learn it has always been one of my super powers, though sometimes my timing seems to be off. I think my Guardian Spirits have a sense of humor. Or maybe Angel really is watching over me. I thought this was just the sad hope of the desperate, and that people go on when they go from here, and for some reason I don't understand, she wanted to go away from me, but there is always more than we know, something always one step ahead of our mere mortal forms.

Now I am back in Clallam and have spent a couple hours catching up. I feel bad for neglecting writing my chronicles but right now it seems better to experience for a few days and then process. Shit, I'm sounding like my therapist, aren't I? Maybe being alone is a good thing for now.  I found a motel that is even cheaper than the Bay. I hadn't noticed it before. This little place doesn't have a website but I saw the Vacancy sign and they had a room free for a couple nights. So I get a shower and a real bed after having a car for a home for the last week or so and time to be quiet and sit down without being disturbed and learn where the story goes. This salted caramel is calling my name.

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