Traffic brings out the curmudgeon in me. The I-5 from Portland to Seattle depressed my spirit. Thousands of cars and trucks, everybody going somewhere, their arrivals pending. And, we were among them.
We have friends in Woodinville, WA. We met in New Zealand forty seven years ago. I’ve written of them and our journeys here and here and here.
They are retired from their professions. He, as a cartographer and she, as an editor with the Seattle Times. Fortunately, their home is something of a sanctuary. It’s nestled in a green space of mature cedar trees, miles from the hubbub of Seattle. My cranky traveler mood improved.
Years ago, they purchased a piece of undeveloped land on Fidalgo Island, adjacent to Puget Sound. During the pandemic, they hired an architect, dynamited a footprint into the rocky hillside for the foundation, and built a modest cabin. Recently, they invited us to visit. First, however, a bit of our backstory …
My wife and I were married in February of 1975. In April of that year, we immigrated to New Zealand. The immigration process stipulated that couples be legally married. So, the motivation for our wedding ceremony was practical as well as a celebration of our love and commitment. Soon, thereafter, we left for New Zealand.
We lasted two years. Compared to where we had been living in California, the Kiwi social milieu was yin to its yang. We struggled to build relationships. People were kind, but different. We failed to blend.
So, after a year, we quit our jobs. But, before returning home, we chose to take another year to explore the North and South Islands. We bought a Volkswagon bus, rebuilt the engine, and indulged our inner hippiness.
New Zealand in the 70’s was a wanderer’s haven. During Thanksgiving week, 1976, we visited Tongariro National Park. Its campground was busy with other itinerant travelers. We were drawn to Kevin & Arlene. They were American. Like us, they wanted to celebrate the holiday. They were hitching around the country. We offered them a ride. We bonded. The rest is history.
*****
On the first day of our latest visit, we dined on fruit and cheese and conversation. We peered into the petri dishes of our children’s lives. They amaze us with the quality of their life choices. We share the blessing as parents, grandparents, and as friends.
The next day we went to their cabin near Anacortes. I sat next to Arlene, the more contemplative of our two friends. Kevin, the more voluble of the duo, entertained us with constant chatter. If you want to know the lay of the land, I suggest you travel with a cartographer. It’s akin to having a tour guide. My vocabulary backpack is stuffed with Kevinisms.
We stretched our legs with a walk along North Beach on Whidbey Island. The water lapped melodically on the shore. A council of gulls crowded together. They gabbled. They strutted self importantly, oceanic divas on promenade.
Later, at the cabin, we relaxed. It rests on a rise facing the Salish Sea. It sits amid a forest of madrone and fir trees. Native grasses decorate the rocky ground. We reminisced about our humble origins. Outside, an evening mist wet the wildflowers. Darkness enveloped the cabin. I felt like a refugee from all the commotion of 2023. Fires, floods, inflation, indictments: these aberrations could not penetrate the peaceful ambiance of this getaway.
Visiting with K & A reminds me that life is a journey, not a destination. Together, we’ve witnessed twists and turns and dead ends. They are golden threads woven into the tapestry of our lives.
We left early on the morning of the fourth day. My grouchy traffic persona napped. We pushed home on the I-5 with everyone else. All of us heading to our private somewheres.
Now, a song: My Friends.
Good Blood, Bad Blood 
So one of us got teary; the other had a grin that literally stretched ear to ear.
We are honored, dear friend.
Friendship is a wonderful thing. To be able to put it into words and song is a very special gift.
And the photos from all those posts are such sweet reminders of the times we’ve shared.
Here’s to more adventures, more friendship, more good times together in the years ahead.
We are a lucky band of travelers indeed.
Arl
💕
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Ha! We’ve come a long way together. It’s remarkable that much of our connection was accomplished prior to smart phones. Yet, here we are. We never let lapse the bond established by 1000s of card games played in New Zealand huts. 🙄
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No endless chatter here John. Speechless!
And, so grateful for our friendship over so many years. American Meadows should provide you royalties.
Kevin
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LOL about the constant chatter. Silence can be awkward. You are the very definition of the phrase, “ice breaker.” Our road trips are mini dissertations of your curious mind.
BTW, thanks for the link to Chris Smither’s music. He’s so good!
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Thanks, John. I agree on the I-5 slog, especially between Portland and Olympia. Ugh. But northern Washington is gorgeous and I am happy you enjoyed the beauty of the state with good friends. That’s the best. On another topic, I had coffee with June this morning. We need to set up a Hood River meet-up in October for the three of us. Take good care. Janet
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Yes, that bottleneck between Olympia and Tacoma is epic. October is wide open for me. I look forward to coffee with you and June. 👍
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It is rare to have such juxtaposed scenes than the two you mention: sitting in traffic on I-5 versus sitting in a cabin near Anacortes… But your writing makes it work is a brilliant way. Amen to the journey and those gold threads we pick up along the way. Perfect verse and song to accompany this post as well.
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Randall, I see you are an early riser like me. 😴 Of course, as a visual artist, you would know when the light is so complementary: at dawn and dusk. Good to hear from you, as always.
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John — Thanks, as always for your sensitive writing and your sweet, heartfelt songs. I know what you mean about being caught up in urban traffic. Hillary and I live 40+ miles east of Redding in the quiet of the mountains and have since 1998. So, we have been spoiled. The nearest traffic reporter is in Sacramento. When we go visit our daughter in Santa Cruz, we feel the same way you did on your trip to see your friends. I think I recall that your birthday is in September. Happy Birthday in advance. Best Regards, Jeff P.S. Nice ukulele strumming with a little picking thrown in.
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Hi Jeff. What a nice surprise to hear from you. Yes, we are also lucky to live where traffic is not a constant nuisance. Hood River is peaceful, especially outside of the downtown. Thanks for the kind words about my songs and the uke!
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John, how lucky and blessed you are to have K and A! Friends that will guide you through shadows to calm on the other side… Love it! Thank you
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Hi Nancy. Nice to hear from you. 😎
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I see four lucky people. And I’m stealing hippiness, which I need to indulge in more often.
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