How are you? I hope you're taking advantage of your Summer cabin as you read this letter. Someday I'll stick around PA during the warm months and tag along too!
Here out West, Jake and I are alive and happy! This morning we finished packing and checked out of the hostel. It's amazing how attached we've become to Lone Pine. All of the businesses know us by sight and by smell, especially the grocery store.
After a few days in town it can be hard to leave. Finding a hitch, leaving your daily (possibly hourly) shower, going back to dried goods, having to walk instead of laze are all really unappealing alternatives.
At times too, you want to get back to it--like a kid might look forward to the first day of school. You know it's going to be tough, but you've almost forgotten with all the time that's passed. You want to see your friends. Plus, you've got some new gear to show off, and some newly washed killer calves.
Still, we decided to take our time. First, we trucked to the library to print out our schedule of town stops to look forward to. Then we grabbed some sandwiches, some ice cream, some items from the grocery's discount rack and finally set ourselves up on the corner to get a ride.
Our first hitching attempt failed after about an hour. The sun was hot, and our spirits were wilting. We thought about getting more ice cream. But then we got lucky.
Perhaps intrigued by our magic tricks as we reviled our stuck out thumbs to drivers in new creative ways, the owner from the wood shop across the street decided to approach us. His name was Marty. We gabbed for over an hour. He also offered to let us sleep in his RV parked in the shop's driveway, if we couldn't get a hitch. "It's open! Just jump in." He said.
Our light-hearted conversation with Marty lended to our carpooling appeal, and we hooked a car. Hans, a robust Swiss man, now living in SoCal, was up in the Whitney area enjoying the big hills on his weekend and picked us up. We thanked Marty, almost wanting to stay, he was so nice.
So far, this has been a beautiful couple of months. And today I found that it's about being in the woods as much as getting out of them. I've had the chance to see both a detailed and unconventional look at our landscape, and many examples of why people are good--offering rare and precious security in our very uncertain lifestyle.
Most of all, this experience makes me appreciate my family, which is why this postcard goes to you. I love you and I miss you very much,