But, No One Goes There

The ocean breeze is strong today. The King Tide waves crash, a phenomenon that is costing coastline as the sea gobbles up beach acreage.  Even the birds are buffeted by the wind as they pick their way across the sand searching for their morning meal. They are blown to and fro, their feathers spiking in the airflow like a punk rocker’s mohawk.

The sun is up, but still low in the sky.  Its rays light the surf with golden beams - a golden road to heaven.  Although a bit chilly yet in these early hours, the sun will bake the ground later in the day.  Sunscreen, hats and umbrellas will be making their appearances in short order as bodies line up on towels and in chairs across the beach.

I’m hungry. The wind whips my hair around my head and I keep trying to tuck it back under my scarf. I wrap my fleece blanket closer around my shoulders and take a deep breath. Another glorious day!  Today I will see new places. Today I will meet new people.  Today Milo and I will be adventurers, on a quest, searching for our meaning of life. Although, truly, this is it. This is the life!  

I am so happy! I wake every day knowing all is well, life is joyous and there are places to go and people to meet.  I go to bed every day knowing all is well, tomorrow is another day, another dream realized, another mile or two down the road of life.  Milo and I are co-pilots on a journey I could not have dreamt possible not long ago. We are explorers, sightseers, journeyers...we are compatriots keeping each other company, loved and loving and someone to snuggle as we sleep.

My life has become like a red carpet, unrolling across a nation so interesting and diverse the dreamer in me feels called to pose and shine. I am making friends everywhere I go, I am participating in life knowing I am unique and will get out of it only what I put in. Each day is a gift, I leave planning to the “Man Upstairs” and the miles keep rolling along.  My window is the window on a world I thought I’d never see. And I’m thankful. 

Everyday my journal fills with the events, sights, people and scenes of the day. The time I bumped my way down a mountain in Georgia on six bad tires!  The oil change in Syracuse; perfect timing for a trip to meet family at a New York winery, where I would stay two beautiful nights! Meeting Sandy and Gayle in Maine- somehow instant friends, a meeting of hearts that remains.  Milo’s fascination with the croaking bodies in “Frog Pond” and his determination to follow them into the water. The mountains, the rivers, the cities and towns, God’s beautiful earth rolled out before us in all its glory.  

Our adventures have been so wonderful, words don’t do them justice. The challenge of painting a picture, creating a feeling is invigorating so I write because God speaks to me in my journal.  And now, our path leads to somewhere new and unknown. Not just to me, but everyone who has mentioned the possibility follows with the warning, “But no one goes there.” To me  it sounds like a dare, so Milo and I pack up on this beautiful morning to take another ride. 

Driving my 25’ RV was a challenge in the early days of my adventure but now, Ruby feels like home on wheels. She is reliable, comfortable and on this day I feel energized by my Sirius radio blasting oldies as we meander down another highway. Our destination is at the edge of the Pacific Ocean.  I’ve heard the path leads to a spot that overlooks the world, such an enticing idea! We’ve already seen and enjoyed so many beautiful beaches and coastal towns, yet something new beckons me, and Milo is always game for new adventures.

A few hours later, I pull into the gas station everyone mentioned as a waypoint. I’m stopped for gas…again! It’s amazing how Ruby can eat fuel! Here the air is crisp and cool with a surrounding forest that seems a bit ominous, if I’m honest with myself. A chill runs up my spine and I feel the hair on my arms stand up as I latch Milo’s leash and lower him to the ground for a walk. While the tanks fills, we walk to the edge of the parking lot and I realize just how lonely this place looks. The highway stretches for miles back the way I came, and miles forward in the direction I was heading, but there is nothing much around this small station. 

Once Milo has explored and done his “business”, we head into the body of the station in hopes of clearer directions to our destination.  The interior of the building looks as forlorn as the exterior; this place has been here a long time and wears its history comfortably in a shabby, weather worn way. The aisles are pretty dark, really, although the place looks well stocked. I decide to grab a few snacks to keep us happy until we make our final destination of the day hours from now.

Approaching the counter, a tiny woman closed the book she was reading, marking her place and  stood from the chair she’d occupied.  “Did you find what you need, Sweetie?” she asked kindly, smiling.  She seemed to scan the parking lot through the window.  “Oh, do you drive that thing all by yourself?” she asked, pointing to Ruby, sounding surprised.

I smiled, not for the first time being asked that question. As a 70 year old woman, most people I’d encountered couldn’t imagine me alone out here on the road in something Ruby’s size.  “Yes, just me and Milo,” I smile back. “I’m hoping you can help me find my way to the place everyone says I must see, but…” I raise my hands to do air quotes, “nobody ever goes there.” I laughed. “Do you know what I’m describing?”

She was busy ringing up my purchases but glanced up, definitely with surprise on her face. “Seems to me, if everyone says no one goes there, you should take the advice,” she said cryptically. 

“I thought they were being funny,” I answer, “If no one ever goes there, how does anyone know it’s there?” I laugh again.  “It sounded mysterious and beautiful in the descriptions I’ve heard, and I’ve been to a lot of places, me and Milo, that people seem surprised we’d get to. Why not one more to memorialize in my journal?”

She frowned, shaking her head. “That will be $4.50,” she said, her lips thin with disapproval. “I’d think someone would listen to those who know better, if they were smart,” she added.

Handing her a $5.00 bill, I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m on the road for fun and adventure, and so far I’ve had a wonderful time everywhere I’ve gone. No problems or disasters. I don’t expect to start having them now.” I put the change in my pocket and grabbed the bag.  “So, can you offer directions or information that will help me, or just the warning?” I smiled, hoping to see the woman smile again.

“Turn left when you see the dead tree on the left side, about 5 miles ahead,” she said. “But, I’d rather you take the warning.”  She paused, looked over the counter to smile at Milo who was patiently waiting. “What a good boy,” she said, “too bad your Mama is determined to ignore good sense.”

I laughed again, sure this cryptic carrying on was more advertisement than deterrent.  “Milo is good protection.  We’ll be OK, won’t we boy?” Turning, I thanked the woman.  After putting Milo back into Ruby, I unattached the fuel hose and noticed, when I looked up, the woman was at the window staring at me, rather than having returned to her book. The chill crept up my spine again and I wondered if I was being reckless, with so many telling me not to go.  Shaking off the question, I laughed at myself. This is the 21st century, for Pete’s sake! 

Back on the road, I popped open my soda and a bag of chips. I handed a chip to Milo and took a sip of my soda. “We’ll be OK, won’t we boy?” I asked aloud. “Silly people.”  The five miles rolled past quickly as I munched and the radio’s volume lessened the sense of isolation I felt in this forested, desolate place on the road. The dead tree was definitely a landmark; I couldn’t have missed it! Slowing Ruby, I glanced down the path that led further into the woods next to what was left of the tree. Deciding the overhanging trees wouldn’t hamper her progress, I made the turn slowly and carefully letting her settle onto the new path, a dirt road rather than blacktop. 

“Well, maybe it’s the road that's the problem,” I guessed as I crept along paying close attention to the width and height of the road with Ruby’s safety in mind. So far, so good. The forest was thick with underbrush on both sides, dark from the overhang of the taller trees.  I had been told I’d end up looking at the seemingly endless Pacific in front of me, but it was hard to imagine that now.  It felt like it just got darker, and the trees came closer, hugging Ruby like arms reaching.  I laughed at myself. Wow, people really did a number on me, igniting my imagination!

Suddenly I could see light ahead, like the glow of sunlight on water. Whew! I felt myself relax, recognizing I made it, the ocean was ahead and nothing bad had happened. I was still here and although it may be hard to turn Ruby around for the return trip, I could definitely see us getting back out of here with no issues. It was just a little further through this dense darkness, then we’d see the light. I laughed at myself saying out loud, “Milo, I see the light!” He glanced up at me with a wary look. He tried to get in my lap, and I pushed him down. “It’s OK, boy,” I said, petting his head, “we’re nearly there. We’re OK.” But he wasn’t, he tried again and again to jump into the seat with me. 

That chill came back, this time with a vengeance. Suddenly, I felt panic. There was light, there sure was, but there was no ocean. I stepped on the brake to stop Ruby’s forward progress because I couldn’t see what was ahead, just light. She kept rolling. I pushed harder, she kept rolling slowly forward. “What the….?” I managed to say before I felt us being lifted. Ruby, in her 10 - 12 ton heaviness was floating. I looked out my driver side window and saw the ground falling away, slowly, so slowly. Milo had found his way into my lap after all and I put my arms around him for comfort, and to give it, because I was no longer driving. Something else was driving yet we were on a vertical road. 

I tried to look up through the windshield but Ruby’s front bunk blocked my view. Turning my head, I looked up and out my driver’s window. I saw it, hovering over the ground above us. The white light came down from whatever it was and we were caught in the beam, lifting effortlessly. A scream of panic and surprise came from me and Milo whined, his “I’m scared of lightning” whine. The light was so bright, it was all around us, creeping into Ruby through every window, seam and crevice. And then, the light felt warm, safe and I found myself relaxing, almost unconsciously. Milo, too, seemed to relax on my lap and his concerned look dissipated. We were feeling peaceful, floating, comfortable. Then the light went out.