The priceless approval of a twelve-year-old.
Halfway between the Canaries and Barbados, Arek, one of the Polish boys on our crew, asked what the main difference was between childhood on a boat in St. John and childhood on land in Oregon. I thought harder than I usually do before answering questions about our unique childhood. Honestly, we left that lifestyle so … Continue reading Barefoot Freedom
I want to spend all day in the water. It soothes me. I feel pure, young, innocent. I think of you. I ask you to send me messages through the waves, answers. Can you hear me? Send me a wave. The water is clear, I see straight down to the dust-colored sand. The waves are … Continue reading Hillary
So I became a bike commuter. Monday I awoke to an empty parking spot where my car had been. Tuesday I was on my way to orientation for a new job. The bike I could use was a red Nishiki, with thick cruiser tires and sit-up handle bars, a rack on the back, and a … Continue reading Phase 4: Arriving by bike
“Oh my God, that is beautiful!” I exclaimed to no one but myself and the shameless sun. I shook my head, moved. I stood on the cliff above Capitola, squinting at the bay creased with perfectly parallel swells. Ripples from up here, their size betrayed by the small black dots paddling around, tempting their power … Continue reading PHASE 3: KICKED FROM THE NEST