The First Day

If you could get up the courage to begin, you have the courage to succeed.  --David Viscott

Today is the first “official” day of my adventure.  I left Arroyo Grande yesterday as Jobie held back stubborn tears and managed a passable smile as she wished me good luck on my trip.  I don’t really count yesterday as a departure, though, because I really just spent the day visiting my parents, Fawn, and Ed in the Bay Area before heading out to my first camp site today.  I arrived in the Bay Area yesterday afternoon with warm weather and sunshine, and departed this morning with thunderclouds and rain.  California has been in a severe drought lately, so of course my first day would have to be wet.  I do know, however, that it’s nonsense to believe that the weather has any care of my plans for traveling.  The real reason is that it has more to do with the fact that on Sunday we washed my van, the Camaro, and Jobie’s Mazda.  At any rate, the temporary change in weather seemed like a good way to start this temporary change in my lifestyle for the next few months.  Most people would interpret rain on the first day of a trip as a bad portent, but since we’ve drastically needed rain, I take it as a good omen.

I stopped briefly at the Dana Bowers Memorial Vista Point, just north of the Golden Gate Bridge as a little farewell to the Bay Area. 

Where'd those ducks come from??

There’s something about crossing a bridge that is symbolic of transitions:  it provides a narrow little road to move off one significant piece of land and onto another, kind of like leaving one world behind and entering into somewhere new. 

 Crossing over that bridge, passing beneath its dual red towers and countless cables, somehow seemed a natural debarkation point.  I grew up in San Jose and have been through San Francisco and over The Bridge countless times, but I’ve never stopped at the little parking lot just off the 101 Freeway in Sausalito.   I’ve always thought of it as a touristy place, and I was certainly no tourist.  Even today, as I pulled in with my 21-foot RV and managed to shove it into an 18-foot parking spot, I felt the need to separate myself from everyone there. “No, really, I’m practically a local,” I explained in my thoughts to the uninterested throngs of people around me.  But no one noticed or cared, as their eyes were all drifting out across the San Francisco skyline and the imposing North Tower instead of on my silly van and me.  It was chilly out (by Central Coast standards) at just under 60 degrees. 

Nice Park Job!

Everyone was wearing coats and long pants, and the people without hats had their hair continuously blown in their faces by the cold breeze flying off the Bay.  I hopped out in shorts, a t-shirt, and sandals and convinced myself that my summery attire provided ample justification that I was not just a goofy tourist.  (It simply stated “Here’s an idiot who doesn’t know to put a jacket on when it’s cold out!”)  The rain had taken a temporary leave, and I felt obliged to assimilate with the tourists and to take a few pictures of that iconic San Francisco structure.  It seemed to say to me, “You’ve made it across!  Farewell, and good luck!”

Good-bye Bay Area!

As I departed Vista Point, I passed under the painted rainbow and into the Waldo Tunnel, honked twice and made my way through Mill Valley, Petaluma, and into Santa Rosa.  I stopped in Santa Rosa at Trader Joe’s with hail (yes, real hail) pelting my windshield.  I noticed the thermometer on the dash now read 48 degrees—about a 12-degree drop in only 55 miles.  In a series of tactical maneuvers that took a mere 5 minutes and which evoked several nervous stares from people entering nearby cars, I again deftly coaxed my van into a parking spot that was about 3 sizes too small.  Climbing out in my shorts and t-shirt, (this time amongst people in rain coats and umbrellas), I briskly ran for the entrance, and quickly found my favorite part of the store:  the free sample table.  After picking up my “usual” TJ’s shopping list of spinach, tortillas, red peppers, carrots, Fuji apples, and tangelos, I climbed back into my van and made no less than 36 attempts to back out of the snug parking space (note to self:  always back into spots whenever possible, even if it feels red-necky to do so.)  I also made a quick stop at Staples (backing into the parking spot this time), to pick up a notebook to record my thoughts along the way.  As I was checking out, the cashier asked for my phone number so I could get my rewards points on the $3.26 I was spending.  I gave it to her, and noticed that she typed it in wrong on the register.  “I’m sorry, I’m not finding your account,” she apologized. 

“Oh, I think you entered the number wrong. It looked like you typed -6465 instead of -3465.”

She squinted through her square glasses at the monitor in front of her. “Oh, you’re right!  Wow, you are quite observant! What do you do for a living?” she asked me.

“I steal people’s passwords at ATM machines,” I told her. 

She stared at me blankly for several seconds, until I smiled to convey that I was joking.  I told her that I was really just traveling around the country in a van and trying my hand at writing.  This time she paused a minute to see if I was still kidding or not, and said, “Well, you’re very witty.  I bet it will be a good book.  Stop by when you finish and tell me about it, and I’ll read it!”

After that, I made my way to my first camping spot, Dutcher Creek Village in Cloverdale. 

Dutcher Creek - First Stop

Several people have asked me why I picked this spot.  The truth is,  I just Googled areas around Mendocino and picked one that had good ratings.  The camp spots in Mendocino that I really wanted were booked, so I figured I’d take something close.  Besides, it has full hook-ups and will give me a chance to figure out how to use all the little gizmos in this RV without being in too remote of a location.  So far, it’s a nice little spot.  It’s varied between rain and sun about every 7 ½ minutes so far, and I’ve succeeded in getting my water, power, and sewer hooked up.    I also managed to find all the goodies that an apparent Easter Bunny hid in various little nooks and crannies inside my coach before I left.  They consist mostly of healthy snacks like banana chips, dried mangoes, dried pineapple, and gluten-free chips, so I have a pretty good idea of what kind of Easter Bunny hid them (there were some chocolates though, fortunately!).
j

Look! It even has a pool!

Overall, I consider this first day a success.  It hasn’t been a momentous first day, an extremely eventful start, or even a dramatic beginning.  But, in reality, beginnings seldom are as large or imposing as our minds make them out to be.  The beginning of anything is just the first small note of a larger composition, and the impact comes only as the performance progresses.  So tonight I will have my "gourmet" dinner of a spinach wrap and dried mangoes, I’ll spend the first night in my van, and tomorrow I’ll see what there is out there to explore.