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Happy Belated Anniversary

In celebrating my 14th wedding anniversary yesterday, it occurred to me that another anniversary simply flew under the radar a couple weeks ago. Namely, the anniversary of our original journey and the launch of this blog.

Much has changed since June 18, 2009 when we packed up our car, rented out our house and hit the road “due east.”

Some are obvious changes. Like the fact that we no longer live in our Jeep. And the fact that instead of heading east, we now live on the western most part of the lower 48.

But I like to think we carry with us a good many lessons from that journey.

We’ve certainly proven that living a mobile lifestyle is possible and in some cases, desirable. And if it weren’t for the fact that we have kids that require an education, and at least a couple friends of their same age, we’d be able to live full-time on the road.

We’ve also learned how to live with much more simplicity. Stuff is like jail. And the accumulation of stuff is like a slow suicide. Even our kids abide by this principle and are able to see the value in minimalism. After all, one amazing toy with many possible game variations far exceeds a gazillion crappy toys with limited imagination. And nothing…and I mean nothing…is as cool as a good ball.

We’ve also learned that in our souls, we are coastal people who hunger for the open sea when it is not around. While we loved our six months in Denver (it is after all in many ways like a mountainy sunny version of Seattle) we missed the ocean. We missed salt air and we missed the bountiful fish.

So now that we have transitioned our “on the road” lifestyle to “off the grid” living out in Westport, we have found ourselves applying elements of our mobile experiment to our daily life. Johannes’ closest client is three hours away in Seattle. So while we aren’t moving, we are remote. There’s a forced simplicity here, as well. Shopping has to be a well-planned excursion because at the minimum it means driving 25 miles to Aberdeen. Costco is almost two hours away. So impulse buys are curtailed. You just make due with what you have.

And we not only live on the ocean but I work for one of the largest fish processing plants on the coast. So we get our fill of salty sea air and we eat a lot of fish.

I feel in many ways like we are still on our adventure. This lifestyle is still so new and different. And we are learning new skills. Like crabbing. And like surfing. But while there has been no shortage of things to write about, I have struggled to decide what to write. Writing about the people and places that you are passing through is an entirely different exercise that writing about the people and places that you see every day.

How do I start? Should I explore the nuance of why the company I work for has decided to adopt the town’s homeless guy, not just giving him occasional work but buying him a truck and a trailer on the far edge of the point where he arguably has the best view in all the town? Or should I start with the town transvestite who is the self-proclaimed “hottest “b**** in Westport.”

And if I start writing about them, how do I do it in such a way that doesn’t make it seem like I’m exploiting their stories.

It’s a different process, capturing a story when you are passing through versus capturing a story of the place where you live. I have to see these people every day. What if they don’t like what I write?

Sometimes I peruse craigslist, looking for a used airstream trailer and dreaming about hitting the road. This time up and down the coast with a surfboard.

But I think it’s still just a matter of time until I find the new voice of this adventure. In the meanwhile, I’m simply a sponge absorbing this new life, learning tons about fishing. A little less about surfing. And maybe a bit also about finding my voice in small town America.