Travel, sometimes, is about not moving.
I joke that I’m a frustrated nomad. I’m tied to a job and a house but really am happiest when I’m moving around the globe. Far? Near? Doesn’t matter, as long as I am on a journey I feel most at ease with myself. Many years of journeys have taught me that at the most spiritually moving places, staying is the best strategy. The Magic Bus recently wrote of this in her post about the Grand Canyon. Just jumping out of the car and looking at the rim had no impact. But taking more time, hiking a trail, brought the canyon to life for her. I had a similar experience there, but instead of hiking, I sat on a sandstone outcrop and watched the ravens all day. At the end of the day, I was indeed a different person. Even though my view didn’t change for about 6 hours, what I saw and felt transformed me.
Recently, I spent ten days bike touring in British Columbia. I intended to travel adagio, that is to ride slowly and travel short distances, and this enabled me to drink in the scenery. Since I was island hopping (Vancouver, San Juans and Gulf Islands) the sea would figure largely in my immersion. Each evening’s campsite was in proximity to, if not directly upon, the waterfront. Each evening brought the ritual of watching the sun set, the moon rise (the Blue Moon occurred during the trip), and the stars emerge over the water.
In my book, there’s no more false a statement than Reagan’s “You’ve seen one redwood tree, you’ve seen them all.” Nor is it true that if you’ve seen one sunset, you’ve seen them all. In fact, for me, the more sunsets I watch the more I appreciate the last one I witnessed.
So it is on a multi-day bike camping trip that each and every sunset is something to behold. I share these photo excerpts in hopes that you didn’t have to be there to appreciate the view.