I'm so pleased to have spent two months in Sebastian as nostalgia has hit and I've been humming "Thanks for the Memory" as I pedal the neighborhoods. Unfortunately, I can't recall how I first found the Sebastian Inlet Marina camp where it all began about a decade ago. Yet the kind people, fun conversations, stunning sunsets, wildlife on land and sea, beach treasures, and bike journeys are deep-seated. I had delusions at the start of the season that I would have hours to sit and do memoir writing; somehow, this has barely occurred. Since feeling like this is my "farewell tour" to my winter home base, I have been consciously spending time out and about. While the town population is still under 30,000, it's not only the overdevelopment of the area that's disconcerting, it's the culture change. February flew by, but March has been an exhausting month of taxes, additional IRS absurdity, and other people's angst, alongside hours spent plotting travel on a tight budget. Honestly, I think this indoor, connected life is highly overrated. In a few days I begin my last stop before stepping onto the auto train. I'll be camping near the Sebastian River without electricity or wifi or much that I can do about the to-do list. I'm looking forward to living outdoors again as I prep for the journey north, and a busy spring and summer.
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While I put closure on 2023 in my last entry, I neglected to include a very important notice: Did you know that the inaugural Macy’s parade was held in 1924, but was not held during WWII? As a result, the 100th anniversary parade is scheduled for 2026, which just happens to be the year that I roll into a new decade. What celebration am I wishing for? One guess. So, I am putting it out into the universe that I oh-so-want to be in that parade! While I’d love to be holding onto a balloon, I’m not proud, and will be happy to scoop horseshit in a clown suit, too.
Sebastian has been a stop nearly every winter this past decade. Once more I find it more developed with housing 3x the cost I recall, far too many cars, and of course, less greenspace. Yet, I am feeling so relieved to be here as I know where to find my relaxation spots, can still cautiously bike about town, and consciously be as kind as possible to the true locals. The environment feels a bit tumultuous, but that’s not unique to Sebastian. Right now, my little world is the backside of a quiet home with a single, 60-ish woman who has lived through the transition for 14 years. It’s a good fit and I’m getting plenty of time to read and write, and hash out ideas for the remainder of the year. One thing that's become clear to me is that I've lost some of my passion for the constant, rapid movement. As I continue to read my journals and blogs from the beginning, I realize that I traveled a lot, but maybe too quickly in some instances, too (New Mexico and Utah still call me).
It has been 10 years, which yes, is a long time living out of your car. The flipside is that the travel I really want to do now requires plane, train, ferry transport and longer periods of time car-free. I’m not there yet as this isn’t the year to settle in the USA. So, I will continue to roam about, (always) biking, perhaps more hiking, finding new spots with a few revisits, keeping my social circle intact, reading like mad, and writing much more. Sometimes you just need to mix things up a bit and see where you land – and that’s my only plan for 2024. It appears that January has come and gone, but I'm still holding to a past year review before I step into the next one. Much of the horror of 2023 is still with me, yet there are certainly moments of delight to bring to mind.
As I rolled out of Florida on the auto train in March, I was in great fear with an engine that may or may not quit! I held my breath through Winchester, VA (a sweet town), to Avery, PA (with interesting women), and on to Whitehall, NY (where a pit bull bit me in the butt). Somehow I adjusted to temp changes from the 80s to the 20s, and was pleased to arrive at a warm and welcoming home in Vermont. It was a two-month stay in East Middlebury to care for my beloved Element, consider homesteading in Vermont (for the 3rd time in my life), and enjoy biking, hiking, museums, live music, and a meditation sangha. Little did I know that the time would also be spent grieving the passing of two very dear friends and a less-than-welcoming time from family. So it was that I pushed on to a familiar hostel in New Hampshire, a volunteer stint in lovely Surry (in a barn studio), and a few weeks in a comfortable homeshare in Jonesport, Maine (with great roommates, a sardine museum, and a lot of fog). A brief stop in New Hampshire (with good food & Rummikub), before tenting near Lake Champlain once more (lucky me), and it was time to roll out. Two friends shared time with me in Rochester, NY, then it was a multi-day birthday celebration with my family in Sewickley, PA, including the annual reuben! From here, a quick stop in Staunton, VA (I like the Shenandoah Valley), an early arrival to New Bern, NC (where Martha visits from Austin & what fun!), a barn loft camping experience in Pittsboro, and yet another reality check of Greenville, SC (its time has passed). Revisits at a hostel in Georgia (a comfort zone), then a week with a very dear woman in Gainesville brings me full circle to where this story begins as I drop into South Florida once again for the holidays. As the Element nears 222,000 miles, it spent plenty of time with a trusted mechanic here, but I continue to have faith. South Florida is utter insanity, but I enjoyed connecting with friend Jen, cooked and ate some great food, met nice folks at a Mix & Mingle, and loved spoiling Goldie (the 4th cat I’ve spent time with this year). I did miss my cycling goal by 344 miles (because I don’t have a death wish), but I beat my reading goal of 70 books! The greatest surprise was the universe sending me a book coach for 6 weeks to jumpstart my project for 2024. Since rolling into South Florida for the holidays, it's been one big food fest! I'm now regrouping as I look back at the challenging year of 2023 while plotting the beginning of the new year. I've already been told by quite a few people to "lay low" in 2024, but what that means for me is still to be determined! Much more to come as I waver on what seems like quite a few options stateside and abroad. As I push toward South Florida for the holidays, I'm through with this year's search for a homestead location, so I decided to return to locations and people I enjoyed too many years ago. In 2017, I found a bike hostel in rural Georgia, and I am so pleased that The Blue Goose is still alive and well. I didn't get to chat too long with the owners, Donna and Roger, but it is pretty clear how they've continued to draw travelers and evolve in this small community. The hostel, a lovely cottage built in 1847, is still a comfortable spot for travelers, but now a delightful bakery, general store, and event space, too, to attract folks from the surrounding area. Roger is also in his second term as Mayor of Irwinton (population 840), and the couple are building a unique home on the 2.5 acre property. Stagnation does not seem to be in their vocabulary. My visit was an afternoon at the historic church with friendly locals, one sunny day to bike about the area (nearby Toomsboro has not sold), and a rainy day to get soaked walking about town, then to be lazy. Otherwise, good meals, a long conversation with a wise 35 year old, and very sound sleep. Eight years ago, I thoroughly enjoyed my second-ever Airbnb experience with a lovely woman named Eleanor in Gainesville. Following a backroads journey south through Georgia, I arrived to this 82 year old opening her front door to say, "I remember you!" and offering a hug. She invited me to a Dances of Universal Peace event, good food here and there throughout the week, and a trail ride to her favorite tree at week's end. Of note, she had three other guests as well. When you look up "sprightly" in the dictionary, Eleanor's picture is there. Thankfully, this is my third visit to Gainesville as half the week was rain followed by heavy rain. Not so bad actually, as I played outside at my favorite spots and let myself sit to read and write. I like Gainesville as it checks a lot of the boxes on my "must have" homestead list. Unfortunately, it's in Florida. |
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March 2024
AuthorCyclist, writer, teacher, avid reader, bike/ped advocate, nomad, pie lover Categories |