Slowing Down

Note:  I wrote this yesterday, but haven't had good access to the Internet. Not many pictures are posted today because I'm using my phone to send this and pictures gobble up my data plan.  Tomorrow as I head out there is a Starbucks on the way, so hang tight for some pictures of lighthouses in Newport, Oregon.

Freeze this moment a little bit longer

Make each sensation a little bit stronger

Make each impression a little bit stronger

Freeze this motion a little bit longer

--Lyrics from “Time Stand Still” by Rush

On Thursday morning I left Jedidiah Smith campground and headed into Oregon.  At that point, I wasn’t sure where I was going to stay, so I stopped at Starbucks for my iced caramel coffee with whipped cream and Internet access, Googled for good campgrounds, and settled on one called Sunset Bay State Park, near Coos Bay, Oregon.   It was about 2.5 hours north of Crescent City.  When I crossed over the border into Oregon, the first thing I noticed was the drop in gas prices.  I had paid $3.32/gallon for gas shortly before Crescent City, and roughly 20 miles away in Oregon the prices were averaging about $2.65/gallon.   I regretted filling up my tank only a few miles before the border, but I was badly in need of gas and might not have made it to Oregon if I didn’t. 

The other thing I noticed was that 101 in Oregon is appropriately called a “Scenic Byway.”   Literally every mile or so, there is a signpost for some point of interest or some vista to see.   There are lighthouses, vast coastal views, Myrtle wood forests, sea life colonies, flowing rivers, serene lakes, vibrant streams, small towns with old buildings, little farms, and several other things to see.    The signs along the road kept urging me to pull over, but I only stopped at one: a place called Meyers Creek Beach (which was far better than Meyers Flat in the Avenue of the Giants!), where formidable boulders stomped through the waves and onto the beach. 

Meyers Creek Beach > Meyers Flat RV Park

I took in the views and took a few pictures with me before getting back onto the road.  There were so many interesting looking places to stop, but if had stopped at them all I’d need three months just to get through Oregon.  As I was rumbling down the road, almost symbolically, my non-iPod started playing “Time Stand Still” by Rush, which was one of my favorite bands growing up.  Neil Peart wrote the lyrics, and Geddy Lee sings about becoming so busy and rushed (no pun intended) in life that he doesn’t notice and appreciate everyone and everything that is around him.  The chorus of the song laments his wish that time would slow down and stop briefly so that he can better notice the details of the world around him.  I felt a little bit of this in passing all those beckoning signs at 60 miles per hour.  While I couldn’t stop and take pictures at every single interesting spot that I passed—the small red water tower on the still river, the dark green bushes spraying out brilliant yellow flowers (which I later found out are a noxious weed that the state is trying to eradicate!), the little stream running directly along side 101 for about two miles, the small sheep farm that apparently just welcomed spring with nearly 40 baby sheep—they all would have to remain as snapshots in my mind rather than in my camera. The ironic thing about this was that one of the reasons I set out on this journey was to have no agenda and no time pressures, simply to be able to look closer at my surroundings.  However, as my van lumbered down 101 towards Coos Bay, I still felt like I was moving too fast even though it took me nearly 10 days just to make my way along the California coast.   Writing about the things that I’ve seen and done has helped me be more mindful of what I’m experiencing, as it makes me more closely observe the details, the textures, the colors of things so that I can paint them with words later on.   The things that I’m describing as I write are really pretty mundane activities on the surface:  going on a bike ride, taking a walk, sitting in a coffee shop, driving down a road.  But when I turn off the filters through which I see most daily life and pay attention to the subtleties, suddenly a walk becomes a journey, a bike ride becomes an adventure, and the strangers around me become characters in a story. 

So, even though I’m sailing at a slow pace on this odyssey, I still find occasions when it feels like the clock just doesn’t contain enough minutes to see and experience the things that are out there.  But for the small slices of the world that I am fortunate enough to experience, making time stand still and collecting the sensations, the motions, and the impressions it offers has transformed the seemingly ordinary things into extraordinary adventures.