Found Writings

Burger Place in Portland, Oregon
This morning, I started a book that I hope to finish. It is a book about the steps I took after the shock of losing Scott and the steps I continue to take to live a deep, spiritually connected life. I hope the book will help people in their darkest hours of loss whether it is losing a loved one, a job, their home, or purpose in life. It is a big undertaking for me. I will continue writing daily on the blog and chip away at the book as well.
While I was starting the new book, I found pages of notes for the book I wanted to write while Scott and I were traveling over the summer. I had quit my old blog before our travels to dedicate my time to a book. The book never materialized. It wasn\’t the book I was supposed to write. I have the feeling the book I am writing now is the book I am called to write.  
I am sharing some of the notes I found for the book I was starting over the summer to share with you. A taste of what it was like to live on the road. Scott and I lost our housing due to COVID on June 22nd last summer. We found ourselves displaced and not able to afford housing in the San Francisco Bay Area. We jumped at this opportunity to travel and become nomads. It was a brief trial at becoming nomadic that lasted about three months until we found our temporary cabin in the woods. From there, we planned to move to San Diego, get an apartment and settle for awhile before venturing out again. We didn\’t make it to San Diego.  
The following are my notes on our arrival in Portland to house sit. This was towards the end of our nomadic travels over the summer.

August 31, 2020

Portland.

We crossed the bridge to Portland, stopping at Cabellas to drop off the tent with the screen room. It was no longer useful, taking too much space in the back of the mini van. The screen part never worked quite right. The netting left too much space on the bottom, leaving a large opening for armies of ants to march in followed by skittering ground spiders. I suffered bites oozing with pus on my arms and one time found an invader digging into my ear.

We have grown tired of setting up a camp with a kitchen, fire pit and separate sleeping area. We are still committed to traveling out of the mini van and camping without having to set up a tent with all the fixings.

The night before we parked at Walmart. For the first time, my first time, I slept in a vehicle in the Walmart parking lot like thousands of campers and displaced  people have taken the opportunity to do for years and years free of cost. I didn’t feel weird. I didn’t feel like a loser. I loved saving the money. I reveled in the adventure of sleeping in a parking lot under bright lamp posts illuminating the parking spaces, the growl of revving engines, the slamming of doors from the shoppers leaving at closing, the workers at the end of the night shift collecting the shopping carts, the wheels scraping by our van as they rolled passed while we nestled inside our sleeping bag watching movies on our phones.

Tonight, we are at a Red Lion Hotel that has seen better days. The conventions and business visitors vanished when the pandemic arrived. We are taking advantage of the inexpensive rates, the empty hotel, maybe less than a quarter full. 

From a Walmart parking lot to a King Suite with a Jacuzzi bath and a view of the river below. This is life, traveling and living on the road. Earlier, we stopped for lunch after a beautiful back road that meandered through the green forest hills overlooking the city below. In one of the dips, heading down, we found a local burger joint. It took us back to the 1970’s. Hotel California played on the radio on a hanging speaker over the picnic tables out back by the parking lot. An old mural with painted figures of car hops with curves and tight fit clothing serving juicy burgers and sodas to young guys in classic cars on the wall behind us. We listened to the music transporting us to a slower time as we feasted on cheeseburgers, chili, and onion rings with a chocolate peanut butter milkshake to chase it down.

Tonight, the fancy hotel room is a much needed break from sleeping in tents, in the back of the van at fairgrounds, at cheap hotels off the Interstate Hwy. My partner asked me out on a date. He is buying me a cocktail in the hotel lounge at 7 p.m. Tomorrow, we begin a week-long house sit in a house with a garden bursting with vegetables and a housecat, a siamese named Simon.

From what we gather, Simon loves to cuddle, he plays with feathered toys, and from time to time has stomach aches. He is seventeen. We can’t wait to meet him. Scott talks of holding him in his lap while he watches movies.

 

Published by As the Road Wanders

Travel Blogger and Traveler

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