I might be missing a day, or I might be adding a day, I'm not sure at this point. It doesn't matter much. It's an emotional day. I parted ways with Flo, Lau, Will and Martin to head back up North to work on a farm with Vinny and Nelson. I wouldn't have broken up the gang if I didn't think this would be the only time I get to hang with Vin. I'm also excited to kill some time and make some money. I'm not trying to spend more than a week in the hills but, who knows.
The five of us took a day off at Burlington Campground yesterday. Will wasn't sure if he was going to stop and work with his cousin for a couple weeks. I was also waiting to hear from Vin. And we were also just resting beneath the redwoods, not much of a rush to get away from these beauties. We woke up slow yesterday, all of us. It was cold, no excessive amounts of dew, it was dry, cold and dry and we loved it because it wasn't wet.
Blue came over, a bowl packed, ready to hit the road. He's an old-timer, 64 years old but lookin' like 70 and talkin' like he's 17, a real nice dood. We convinced him to hang around another day although, he didn't come on our hike with us to Founder's Grove. It was a short walking trail, just four miles from the campground.
We took turns reading the information from the pamphlet like we were on some school field trip. We learned about how the trees are all part of one big system, how they share nutrients and how even dead, fallen, decaying redwoods are as much a part of the system as any of the other trees; there's something to be said of that, living things are just trying to live, we ought to be helping each other do that but, I guess humans aren't always as smart as trees.
The five of us didn't arrive at Burlington Campground all together the day we first got here. Will, Martin, and I rolled in mid-afternoon after we had eaten some blackberry popsicles we got from a roadside fruit stand along the avenue which happened before we stopped for lunch under the giant trees in one of the many groves along the road. I was worried that Lau and Flo got separated from us and that we wouldn't share the experience of riding through the avenue together.
Just before the sun completely disappeared from the sky, the two French Canadian girls came rolling down the road, yelling to us at the campsite as we were prepping the fire; our group was still whole. It's such a beautiful, unparalleled experience to find like-minded, crazy people on the road that are equally excited to ride with you as you are with them. Friendships blossom fast, bursting open with sparks and colors like throwing a whole package of roman candles onto a campfire at once, all shooting and popping in unpredictable directions, striking this and that, illuminating familiar surroundings in beautiful and strange ways never before imagined. And then it's gone, dark again, smoke covering everything, and you're alone. That's how I felt when all my friends went South and I back North.
But nothing is ever over until it's over and can anyone really ever say anything is truly over until they die? That's almost claiming ability to see the future. I know the road works in its own way that doesn't necessarily correspond with the nature of time; it's very possible I'll see all my friends again on this trip, just as much a possibility of never seeing them again.