Slow Travel: Oregon, Part II
We live a life that’s constantly on the go, but in movement I have found a way to slow down. In transience, I have found stillness. In Oregon, I found presence.
After Eugene, we spent the days slowly, making something of nothing. I fell into a steady rhythm of writing and coffee and some small adventures tucked into days that felt colorful and alive in their own simple way. It’s all worth talking about. It’s all worth sharing. But what I want to take a moment to appreciate is this quiet time we found mid-week. What a luxury and a joy it was just to be in another place. To go to coffee shops and farmer’s markets, to read in new spaces, to explore local bookstores, and imagine yourself a part of this town, this peaceful place. I folded into daily life in Corvallis, and I was happy.
The simple facade of a college town in Oregon charmed me with its colorful storefronts, brought me more joy than I had ever expected, and in these simple days I learned patience with myself, and an appreciation for really living in another place. In this way, I truly feel that I experienced Oregon. I found my favorite lunch spots, my favorite spots to read. I felt comfortable because it felt as though I was surrounded by like minded people, and I slowed down long enough to notice these little things.
All of this is to say something on the art of slow travel. Though I was only in Oregon for a little over a week, the experience was in the spirit of slow travel–experiencing the people and the culture, experiencing the food and the lifestyle. It was a gentle welcome into the way of the West Coast.
I had been spending the weeks leading up to this journey mad with productivity, obsessed with tasks I had to get done. I found that once I was on the road, traveling made it easier to write and to enjoy life in the present moment. I remembered not to obsess over what I didn’t know. Instead, I was learning to lean into the not-knowing, the part of travel that has to do with learning as you go along. Spending time in a new coffee shop, reading a good book, maybe getting some good food, this was all it took to make a day successful.
On Thursday we wandered down the coast to see the natural beauty of the Pacific ocean. What an incredible journey this was, and in the spirit of slow travel, we set out to experience the landscape, to watch the fog go by, to wind through the mossy hills. We were unconcerned when the weather changed our original plans. Wind and rain whipped across the first beach we visited, where we had planned on checking out the tidal pools. Instead we drove further down the coast to Devil’s Punchbowl where the sea swept in through a rocky archway, slushing around below us. A steady drizzle swept the landscape, transforming the beach into a wistful scene. I imagined a novel set on this shore, and my mind wandered along with my boots–up and down the hills, through rocky outcroppings and into sandy nooks on the beach until I had lost myself completely in the scenery. We left with wet socks and wet coats, still ready for another adventure.
We drove to a trail about an hour beyond the Punchbowl and immersed ourselves in the sleepy haze of a temperate rainforest. It was not a hike determined on a destination or a peak, instead we wound our way slowly through massive trees, wider than I was tall. The spirituality of this place struck me, I found myself touching the shaggy, rain soaked bark, granting a silent thank you back to the earth and the giants. There was peace, greater than I had ever expected. When we returned to the car I was exhilarated, thrilled by my life and by my trip.
All this time, I was trying to find answers to my questions. I thought, maybe travel would offer me clarity. I took off for the open road. I have found answers, but not the ones I was originally looking for. What I have found is a sense of home in a place that is not my own and an awareness of the present moment. As I travel across the West in search of myself, I have found joy in the simplicity of life on the road. I have slowed down enough to enjoy each day. I have hiked slowly through an old growth forest, thinking of nothing but gratitude.
This trip has slowed my thoughts, it has unlocked my senses and my pure gratitude for a life I’m still living. More than anything, I am accepting a bit of uncertainty, appreciating not having all of the answers. Even beyond this trip, even beyond the travel I am doing in this moment, the journey I am on is confusing and filled with excitement. I am forever grateful for its twists and turns, and the reminder to appreciate these moments fills me with love for my life and for my future.
Details on the next leg of my journey soon. California has also taught me so much. I am excited to share more.
Authentically yours,
Caroline