The Adventure North in Dora the Explorer

Day 1, Good Friday, 2013.

Driving away from 614 4^th Avenue West maybe for the last time is both nostalgic and bittersweet as I reflect on my time spent here, all five months. It is amazing how incorporated life gets in just a short amount of time.  People are met, routines are made and life becomes set for a while. The weather is cold, windy and dreary today but the weatherman has promised warmer days with sunshine next week, and the flowers are in bloom. Soon it will be hot and humid, at least by my standards and I can’t say I will miss that. Air-conditioning is not in my vocabulary. But, Boarding House 49 is still up and running with my furnishings so one day I will return to deal with moving it out.

The people are wonderful in this special little town called Hendersonville, and the mountainous landscape is beautiful. Why then do I feel like a fish out of water? Probably because the ocean is at least four hours away, and the wide-open beaches as I know them do not compare with the cold water and flat beach-scapes here. The houses appear so close together that gaining beach access can be difficult.  As an adult I have lived in the east for short periods: West Virginia, New York City, Nantucket and now North Carolina - all for the experience. The same feeling continues to surface – I don’t belong here. My psyche knows this but I insist on trying it anyhow. Although the people are nice and polite I never feel like I get beneath the surface. I can’t seem to get it, whatever “it” is.

Homer Beaches

The avant-garde culture and art scene is a mere twenty minutes to the west in Asheville, appealing to the non-conforming, hippy generation. If I had it to do over I would explore North Carolina from that perspective and place. Nevertheless, in the end I would still be returning to Homer where there are miles and miles of coastline, the beaches are free to explore and dogs run with abandonment. The cultures from east to west are vastly different, and reflect in varied perspectives, values and goals – not dissimilar to the differences between say, France and Germany or Sweden and Italy. And of course there is the Midwest and the South to consider. Each place has amazing attributes, albeit different as night and day.

Camp Cocker goes to Morro Bay

Travel is about introspection and self-discovery. In hindsight I remember as a child some of my first thoughts were to grow up quickly and go west, specifically California. The Beach Boys were singing about the sun, ocean, blondes, bikinis, and sports cars in the early 60’s and I was there in my heart. Perhaps this soul was destined to be on the west side of things? Of course we all have the answers inside our hearts, our intuition tells us what we need as human beings; the problem lies in trusting the power within. I have always felt more at home in the west, and being here this winter has brought that fact to the forefront so that I can actually say it now. Before it was just a fleeting thought commingled with guilt associated with family, and loyalty to my home state of West Virginia – about as far east as it gets before the coastline.  

I had a wonderful experience this winter, and creating Boarding House 49 was a hoot. I now reflect on my life in Homer and smile. I can’t wait to get back to my friends and my doggie guests at TBTB. I consciously embrace the fact that I will once again complain and want to leave when the snow gets to be too much. It’s a cycle and when it happens I know it’s time to move my body. I have no idea where this wanderlust will go next but more than likely Europe or California, they both speak to me in different ways.

High Falls, DuPont Forest

Goodbye North Carolina and thank you for the opportunity to realize once and for all that I am a true west coast girl at heart. I will remember the time spent here fondly - the sweet tea, the DuPont Forest hikes, the organic coop, the dog parks, the incredible yoga practice at Brightwater, the beautiful waterfalls, the trendy margaritas and tapas, and the friends I have made in this incredible place. 

After 375 miles and six hours, I arrive in Point Pleasant, West-By-God Virginia for the weekend and realize with more nostalgia that it’s been awhile. My high school, the institution I spent so much time in, has been demolished. Gone like it never existed, leaving behind over a hundred-year history. A three million dollar football field has been built, my sister has dementia and my childhood home has been torn down by the State. Change - if nothing else we can rely on that one thing in this life. Energy is always moving, evolution is happening and nothing stays as it appears. At the moment the dogs and I will enjoy Easter Day with the family and camp at Krodel Park for three nights. For that I am grateful for this too will change one day.

We will be back on the road headed west early Monday morning.  Stay tuned for more adventures of Dora the Explorer on her trip North. . .

Namasté