No recent progress on this journey of ours. We're kind of stranded in Manzanita waiting on weather that might never clear. It was a rough day today, glancing out the window, watching sidweays rain and the wind bending heavy tree branches, our saddlebags loaded and spandex fitting tight, with nowhere to go. Many many thanks to Voo for a dry roof over our heads, and I was only halfway joking about paying rent: the next ten days look frighteningly bleak. But I have begun to appreciate this stark beauty. The grey seas and huge rock outcroppings giving way to sandswept dunes where solitary gulls flock and a lonely beachgoer throws a stick for her dog. This is a place of outside turmoil that encases a very deep inner beauty, where everything is as it should be, regardless of a witness adding photgraphic value. Often the purest forms of reality hold the most hostile of shields, and allow the fewest amount of onlookers. Nevertheless, after sitting around for eight hours listening to that beautiful cabin creak and groan, its frustrating to see the sunshine at the very end of the day for ten minutes. We've looked into Amtracks, rental cars and planes anywhere from Brookings to San Francisco, all out of frustrated impatience with things out of our control. I can tell you this tough: tomorrow we'll be out, come hell or high water, either by city bus or the efforts of our renewed legs. I've got my first book of the trip: Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises, and Brit and I are trading card games and Chuck Norris facts to pass the time. A quick note: the e-mails you might get are coming from Chris and Brit Hansen, want to make it clear we have no announcements, or even intentions of announcing things, just to set the record straight, Vegas is just too far. This feels like one of those blogs few will read simply because of their lack of exciting material. The ones that tell you about the latest Star Trek episode, what the goldfish ate this morning, and give advice on playing Dungeons and Dragons. Sorry, the inactivty yields few creative insights. I'll leave you with a pilfered quote I got from the prolouge of a Gary Snyder, who in turn also stole it from a Japanese poet:
"So-when was it- I, drawn like a blown cloud, couldn't stop dreaming of roaming, roving the coast up and down"
--Basho--
We'll keep on...much love
