Travel And Dream Trips The Eby Way
Categories: Oregon | August 17th, 2009 | by traveller | no commentsThis is an article about the pleasures of taking a road trip to our family reunion. It is written by author Gary Eby, whose new book, The Eby Way, will be released this September by Sterlinghousepublisher.com.
It’s the second day of our road trip from Cave Junction, Oregon to San Diego, California. Tomorrow, we should arrive in San Diego where we will celebrate my father-in-law’s 85th birthday.
I look out over the back balcony of the Bavarian styled Best Western Motel. It rests in the heart of the pea soup capital of the world made famous by the local Anderson’s Restaurant off of Highway 101 South about 137 miles from Los Angles.
Yes, my belly is swollen from consuming too much pea soup served with chopped ham, scallions, croutons, and cedar cheese; all piping hot in a sour dough bread-bowl. I also recall the peanut butter fudge wasn’t too bad either.
I have a clear view of the azure sky as a silky canopy engulfing multi-layers of tree covered foot-hills, which are mixed with others that are barren and painted the color of sandalwood. A cool summer breeze swirls through the green and white flower bushes. They proudly stand guard along the ledge of our brown fenced-in motel veranda.
Several powerful images of our trip stand out and are worthy of revisiting: On the first day, as we drove down from Oregon to California, Mt. Shasta loomed glorious like a huge melting Dairy Queen ice cream cone. Further down the road, Mt. Shasta lakes beamed turquoise water with twisting tributaries that closely resembled the lucky shape of a shamrock.
The next day, there was the quick glimpse of the San Francisco skyline off of Highway 80 surrounded by an ocean moat of billowing seas that took my breath away. As the 80 transformed into 101 South, high above in the sky was an arrow-cloud-picture that seemed to suggest to me that here is more to life than what we think we see or know.
And last but not least, Grover Beach unfolded like a topaz, Roman war banner, waving beneath the mighty coastal cliffs. Honeycombed vistas of endless cream-colored beach, frosty surf, and the purple grandeur of the infinite Pacific Ocean, startle, linger, and entertained our senses.
Although, I remain weary and travel dazed, I return often to these travel memories that sustain my spirit and rejuvenates the soul; looking forward to the family cruise to Avalon Bay.
Boarding the Carnival Cruise ship, we walk up the ramp, and are impressed by the enormous size of the white boat structure with wings of red as smoke stacks. The on-board elevator quickly takes us up six decks to the Lido area.
The walls are decorated with colors of abalone shells. We stop for awhile to sample the buffet, and try the exotic drink of the day served in a pink, Carnival, souvenir goblet.
Choppy waves, gray seas, overcast sky: the first day of cruising spent with some unease about the lack of sunshine. But, it is also a day of relaxation, laughter, and quiet contemplation.
From our cabin portal, the ocean dances and swirls in hypnotic, constant motion. Sea foam and baby white-cap waves punctuate water rhythms, which glide and sway as far as the eye can see. Sleep came easily that first night.
A new day of cruising, spent in eager observation from the Veranda deck, looking out at Catalina Island and Avalon Bay. The sky cleared with patch-quilt clouds and splotches of powder blue, spinning hot sunshine on my neck and face.
Sea gulls dip, dive, and soar effortlessly. Some land on our guard rail; others waddle close to our blue deck chairs.
The ocean is much calmer today. I imagine it looks like a giant, dark and purple, silk scarf that nature uses to capture endless, rippling water, and to catapult soft, fresh, cool breezes our way.
Island mountains, further in the background, resemble a family of prehistoric, green and brown, spotted lizards. Small, white, leisure boats are moored peacefully in Avalon Bay. A solitary parasail peacefully floats by, painted blue, yellow, green, and orange. And in the center of my vision, the vertical and square structures of Avalon nest white, pink, yellow, and red as a gleaming, pristine, portrait of modern art.
On the Lido, one deck below us, Reggae music flows with its distinctive, undulating rhythms, and steel-drum sounds. Our senses are further enhanced as my wife and I drink several blended and lime flavored Margaritas.
Such a cruise trip like this one, is well worth remembering. I will return there often in my mind’s eye to bask in the joy of being alive and at peace in the mystical embrace of Avalon Bay.
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