FlagLive :: Personal Narrative Traveling Essays

FlagLiveIts a romantically beautiful summer evening in northern California, the heat of the daytime having passed, the sky and earth echoing brilliant colors against each otherwise as if making love. Im alone, riding my bicycle through a sequoia forest on my way to a campsite, where my riding buddy and I had agreed to meet. Towering above like giant sentinels, the trees feel alive, welcoming, as if the spirits of the forest atomic number 18 ceremoniously receiving home a debauched son. I roll into camp, and Fred (my traveling companion) is already there. Its only been about half-dozen hours, but were as knowing to see each other as if it had been a few years. Our campsite, nestled in the forest, is next to a meadow, where red deer feed at their leisure. We settle in and pull up stakesed cooking our usual galvanic pile of stew, which usually consists of grains, vegetables, and canned meat - whatever we found, and liked, on the grocery retention shelves. The days ride includ ed a series of steep climbs, so we were enquire how our British friends (one a student from Oxford, the other from Bath), also making the corresponding southward trek from Oregon to California, had fared. True to form, they roll into camp skillful as supper is almost ready, this time with two 40-ounce bottles of malt liquor and a bottle of tequila, but little or no food. Fred and I are happy to see them. Theyve become a source of inspiration, for which we are happy to provide scraps of nourishment. Typically, theyd roll into camp around 700 or so, with nothing but their bicycles, their tent, and alcohol, and theyd get down to business - the business of having fun. Theyd start drinking, or fire up a J, or both. Then theyd cheat around the various campsites, introducing themselves to anyone and everyone, partying the night, if possible. In the meantime, Fred had already met two other riders, whom wed invited to supper. recent graduates of Boston College, they became known to us o ver the next few days (they were also traveling the same route) as Watch Girl and umber Detective. As the stew cooked, the party was on. Ilana (Chocolate Detective) asked us why we slept in associate tents. We told her that if we didnt, wed get on each others nerves. She shot back, Your two tents (Youre too try) Bam.