Day two began just south of Forks, WA at Bogachiel State Park with a shower that never got warm no matter how many quarters I put in. After the 'shower' I headed south on HWY 101 through little bits of Olympic National Forest, and even more sections of clear-cut woods. I have always been thankful for parks and other lands set aside for our enjoyment, but it was more apparent to me yesterday than ever before that without them we would destroy most of this continent in the name of enterprise. Of course, they did advertise in front of the clear-cuts when they harvested and planted that section. In one instance the first harvest was in the 1930's, then in the 1980's, then in the 2000's, and the next harvest is planned for 2040. I appreciate that they replant, but it seems more self-serving than anything else, and makes me sad for the trees.
Continuing south on 101 I went through the town of Humptulips. Nothing happened there, perhaps ever. In fact I almost missed the town, but with a name like that it had to be mentioned.
Further south 101 took me to the mouth of the Columbia River where I stopped to take a little break and had the chance to watch three, yes three, bald eagles fishing and playing above the north shore of the river. I have seen a few of them before, but never three at a time, and never as close as they were. Unfortunately I was too slow with the camera, and I suspect they sensed it, and they disappeared before I could get a good photo.
Traveling from Washington to Oregon mostly requires a bridge across the Columbia, and I have crossed several of them. But to get to Astoria I had to cross the longest bridge I have even seen.
I arrived in Seaside in the late afternoon and found the Little Yellow House, a famous meeting place on the Oregon Coast. I had the good fortune to get hold of an old high school friend, Antonio, over the last few days and he drove out from Portland to join me for dinner and a meeting. Over dinner we talked about life today and sobriety and the joy of living. If anyone had told us in high school that we would end up in Seaside talking about being sober we would have told them they were crazy.
Antonio went to meetings with my mom for quite some time so we spent a fair portion of our time together swapping stories about her and reminiscing. It is always nice to see the portrait of my mother that is painted through other people.
The meeting was the Riverside Group, and as luck would have it, the chairperson spoke about his mom being ill, and his joy in being a part of her life. Most people who spoke in the meeting then shared about their relationships with their mothers, and I count myself as grateful to have had the relationship that I did with my mom, and to be able to bring her with me on this trip in spirit.
Before the meeting started we met Ty. He introduced himself to us and welcomed us to Seaside. As we got to talking I asked him about places to camp nearby. He said that his side yard was available, and then amended it to say that his guest room was available! So, after the meeting I followed Ty home and we had more great conversation about sobriety and spirituality. His home was comfortable and cozy, about as close to a classic seaside home as one can get. Buster, the resident Boston Terrier, took a liking to me and sat on my lap most of the evening. In the morning I was greeted outside by Old School, a formerly feral cat now living on the porch. It was all a good reminder that this fellowship is strong and lively. (I also got a hot shower, for those of you tracking my hygiene…Alison.)
"Some day we hope that every alcoholic who journeys will find a Fellowship…at his destination" That was written in 1939 in the initial printing of the Big Book, and to think that I am now out to get to a meeting every day all over the country. I wonder sometimes if they thought it was going to turn out like this. What an incredible thing to witness and be a part of!
