We spent a couple of days and nights over at the coast, letting some of our cares and worries go, while we walked, read, cooked and rested. Pure, unadulterated bliss. I had just completed your basic, average, run-of-the-mill, fourteen-hour-workday on Saturday, and Annie had just completed her work-week, down in Willits, so it seemed like a good time to spring off the mountain, and get in touch with our camping souls.
We loaded up the pick-up with some firewood, the camp stove, our four tuppies filled with our camping utensils, our newly-purchased sleeping bags, and an ice chest filled with fresh veggies and other ingredients for a couple of days. We headed straight over to Westport, where we strategically planned our arrival for mid-day Sunday, so as to snag a spot from all of the weekend departures; our plan worked to perfection.
The sky was overcast, but the temperature was mild, and we set up camp without any obstacles, even managing the complexities of our small dome tent, with its two poles. Unlike our previous tent, the one which was the size of a gymnasium, with a half-dozen poles, and a mini-doghouse attached, this little tent was ideal. Besides, we never could convince our dog(s) to stay in the little attached house.
While I was doing some manly thing or another, making the camp just perfect, Annie whipped me up a sandwich, and all was well with the world. We then embarked on a walk down to the shore, where I proceeded to take about thirty photos, a couple of which were not of Dozer, our English bulldog. We walked until we ran out of sand, and looked straight up at the cliff blocking our way, where we decided the Doze would never make it up the side. We retraced our steps and headed back to the campsite.
Some folks’ notion of a getaway is to get in the motor vehicle and drive until you get home. My idea of the perfect break is to go from home to point A, and then, at some distant time in the future, return home. While residing at point A, besides cooking and eating, high on the list of things to do, is reading. It doesn’t matter what it is and it doesn’t matter if I have already read it. I think my passion for reading while camping dates back to when we were kids, and we took a suitcase filled with paperbacks whenever we camped.
If we go into Westport or-heart don’t stop-Ft. Bragg, then we get the newspapers. I can spend more time with the paper while camping, than I ever can in the comfort of my own home. Otherwise, with the paper dispensed with, I return to my book. I finished a Harlan Coben novel called “The Woods.” I don’t know if that’s good or bad. I’ve read four of his books now and the jury is still out. I just happened to find a couple of thrift stores, one of which sold all hard-back books for a buck apiece. I stocked up, based on one of his novels I had read. I have job security in the book department.
The best thing about the two days was that Annie relaxed, and got some much needed rest. While she’s in Willits, she ends up working at the video store. When she’s up here on the mountain, she’s baking and getting ready for market. So it was nice to see her kick back.
When we got home on Tuesday morning, I put all of the camping gear together in the workshop, after going through all four tuppies of utensils, and washing everything, including the Tuppereware itself. This way I am trying to convince Annie that we could do the coastal visits more frequently, with minimal hassle.
And she’s tickled that the ranger asked us if we were eligible for any discounts, when we went to pay the $25.00 nightly fee. We asked him what sort of discounts? He mentioned being a veteran was one, so we got to camp both nights for the $25.00. And if you’re old enough to remember when the same campground was free, just keep it to yourself and enjoy the sight of the waves crashing on the sand. That’s worth the $25.00 all by its lonesome.