Waxings

The past two months have been an incredible experience.  I'm thankful that I've been able to explore the van life once more, as a seasoned vet.  I've found beautiful places to park, and I've been reminded about what I love (and hate) about this lifestyle.  I missed the freedom to explore whatever I want, whenever I want.  I missed the low overhead.  But now I miss access to a shower whenever I want, or a bathroom that doesn't take planning.  I miss having the ability to charge all of my devices.  I miss the companionship of people in the house.  I miss the disruption of my solitude.

The past few weekends have been incredible.  I've gone everywhere from Settler's Cove and Lunch Creek to Coast Guard Beach and then up to Harriet Hunt, Perseverance Lake, and into the quaint little town that has become my home more than any place in Colorado.  Here I am recognized, and I have friends.  Here, people say hello when I walk down the street.  It's not like Salida.  My parents haven't called me once since I've been here.  I haven't heard from my brother at all, save one text.  I am apparently an outcast.  It's fine.  I have friends here who haven't let that happen yet.  The best part is that, here in Ketchikan, Dash is royalty.  People fight over who gets to watch him in my absence.  I'm pretty sure when he dies, I'm going to have to put an obituary in the paper here.

Memorial Day.  Remember those that died for this moment.