Last night’s dreams had me trudging through muddy streams multiple days with silken pillowcases whose cases were washed and folded waiting on a bed for me each evening. In another I kissed one of my dear friends and she told me to take the spiders with me, so I bagged them into white paper lunch sacks, labeled Anarack, and set them on a curbside table. People started to fuss and I got afraid too, though I wasn’t afraid before!

The moon was brilliant last night. I awoke in the middle of the night to gaze at her brightness, almost too bright for the naked eye, and four secretive deer moved through the edge of my camp. I am near the ocean in Oregon.

I had a rest day the day before yesterday and half of yesterday and yesterday’s ride found me physically fatigued as I ventured north into the most severe headwinds yet. Each day I meet cyclists going south who say, You’re headed North?! In alarm (one German woman even cackled at my misfortune) – it is common knowledge on the route that those going south get righteous tailwinds, and, well, northways we get to go into them!

So I took my time and stopped along the way to enjoy the sun as she sunk lower and lower towards the earth. Brilliant yellow light streaming unless blocked by towering bunches of pines, massive rocks or quickly moving and brusque semis. The beauty of the sun with the ocean is staggering. Is stop in your tracks, catch your heart beautiful. I keep thinking No one can do anything! when I see it each day. I’m not quite sure what this thought means, but it comes to mind and I think it speaks to the vast and powerful beauty that no one can take away, pave over or destroy. It is always coming back, and though much of the coastal lands are built upon in California, Southern Oregon’s stretch is so open, and owned by the park service. The people are so kind and real too. There is a lot of down to earth hope for humanity, I see.

So I head north,
or perhaps inland… Eating blackberries along the way.