I am starting off late this morning. I have spent enough time reflecting on various overland trips, especially those with Chris M. as they were/are the spiritual hearth of overlanding for me. The best one was back in January 2000; he and I quit our jobs, packed up our belongings, loaded up his adventure-style truck (the Bajataco) so we were "self-contained," and set out for Baja Mexico.
I remember feeling like a sort of pilgrim, one who's traveling to understand the land, who's here to learn about relationships and follow queues, to learn the forgotten wisdom of the ocean, and the secret essence within nature that is the cause of all magic. Chris' patience and amazing companionship helped me to understand, let me find "my way." He probably remembers seeing me fumbling sometimes, yet never griped. He knew I wasn't searching for a specific end (other than a couple hot springs), that I was not embarked on any special quest. It was an everyday venture for me. I was traveling and escaping... well, because I was traveling and escaping. The world tottered during that time as we drove back and forth between the coast lines to find outpost after outpost, yet beside me Chris stood firm, offered me solidity, a time and space where there has always been more time and space.
This turned out to be a 4-month overland journey in all, and if Chris were here (we are on separate adventures now) we would have plenty to talk about over supper. Love, Sharon