The first night in the new tent was a true adventure. Set up camp about 4:30 and got inside before the storm broke. Wind and rain howled most of the night and I only had to add stakes once. Stayed dry although it was pretty cool outside the sleeping bag. The Coleman heater warmed things up for getting in and out of the bag and getting dressed but I don’t run it when I am asleep per the instructions. The ride up made for a tough day. Up at 7 moving the last of my stuff to storage before loading the car and doing a final cleaning.
I held it together pretty well until was turning in the keys to the place. When they asked about Don and I gave some details I broke down and for the whole drive my emotions were raw and as I headed north the tears flow on occasion.
Stopped along the way to take a few pictures and Anoria kept running through my mind. Escaping to the realm of fantasy has healed me in the past. When I returned from caring for the old man I almost didn’t make it. Went a little crazy in the desert with heat when the transmission died in Texas. By the time I made it back to the north I had some form of respiratory infection that gave me a Pink Floyd fever. When the fever broke I wrote and wrote and that brought me back to sanity. I hope for that same type of healing this trip. Even though the move to the valley was expensive and ruptured a disc I am still glad we did it. The lost coast still is free of the taint of sadness that pervades so many other places.
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