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Diffstat (limited to 'published')
| -rw-r--r-- | published/2021-12-19_perfect-from-now-on.txt | 45 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | published/2021-12-26_edisto-holidays.txt | 60 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | published/2021-12-29_southern-summer.txt | 40 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | published/2022-01-03_on-the-path.txt | 33 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | published/2022-01-08_hunting-island-storms.txt | 56 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | published/2022-01-12_hunting-island-sunshine.txt | 49 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | published/2022-01-17_a-tale-of-two-huntingtons.txt | 62 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | published/2022-01-23_huntington-beach-birds.txt | 55 |
8 files changed, 400 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/published/2021-12-19_perfect-from-now-on.txt b/published/2021-12-19_perfect-from-now-on.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..19ef3b1 --- /dev/null +++ b/published/2021-12-19_perfect-from-now-on.txt @@ -0,0 +1,45 @@ +It began the way all Travco adventures should. After the last things were stowed securely away, I fired up the engines, which roared the life. I sat down, grabbed the shift handle, put my foot on the brake... and it went straight to the floor. No brakes at all. Perfect start. + +<img src="images/2021/2021-11-21_111000_bus-interior.jpg" id="image-2655" class="picwide" /> + +Travco brakes. You either hate them, or you don't have a Travco. Actually they really aren't *that* bad, but they do require regular attention. I knew what was wrong. Whenever I park with the wheels angled too sharply to the right, the driver's side wheel leaks brake fluid[^1]. We'd been sitting like that for five days. I opened the master cylinder reservoir and sure enough, it was basically dry. I refilled it and started pumping the pedal. Still nothing. Well damn, so much for the easy fix. + +I had to run the last of the trash to the dump (where we live there's no trash service), so I did that and used the time to think about the brakes. Probably just need to pump them some more I reasoned, 26 feet of brake line takes a while. I got back and did that, but still had no pedal. Now it was past departure time. Well. Shit. + +It started to rain. I watched the drops running down the windshield and tried to think of what to do. The yard was quickly getting muddy, especially right around the bus. Still, the next step was going to be bleeding the brake lines. I grabbed a strip of sockets and a socket wrench and got down in the mud. Corrinne pressed the pedal, the kids fetched my tools when I forgot them back at the previous wheel, and together we bled the lines all the way around. Wet and muddy, I got back in, and fired it up again. Nice strong pedal. Perfect. We hit the road. + +<img src="images/2021/2021-12-18_hands-on-the-wheel.jpg" id="image-2656" class="picwide" /> + +---- + +I've had people ask if I am really as calm and collected in these situations as I make it seem when I write about them and the answer is... usually. I have a natural tendency to remain calm in stressful situations, and in fact I get calmer as tension increases, which even I don't understand, but that's a good starting point I guess. That said, I definitely lose my cool and do some swearing at the bus. + +It's not in the way you might think though. Whenever something goes wrong, the stress for me isn't that something went wrong, I expect that, the stress for me is in figuring out the problem. I used to get very frustrated because I wouldn't know what was wrong with the bus and you can't solve a problem if you don't know what that problem is. When I lost my cool in the past it was because I didn't know what the problem was and that frustrated me. + +When we left on this trip [back in 2017](https://luxagraf.net/jrnl/2017/04/april-fools) I knew very little about how an engine works and even less about the nearly infinite number of things that can go wrong with one. I still don't know everything, but after three years of [keep on keepin' on](https://luxagraf.net/jrnl/2018/05/keep-on-keeping-on), I've figured out a few things. + +Thanks to my uncle, a mechanic in New Orleans, some [YouTube channels](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC9SzQNYLqsPQGY_nbHogDDw), and that very powerful motivating factor -- necessity -- I know more about what might be wrong these days. Whether or not I can fix it is a different story. Not only are my skills limited, the tools I can carry and the places I have to work are also limited. I'm probably not going to be replacing a cam shaft at the side of the road. + +Things I can't fix will probably still go wrong, but at least now I'll know when those situations come up. In hindsight, of the four major mechanical repairs I've hired out in the first three years, today I would only hire out one of them. Even that one I'm not sure I'd hire out. I might at least try to convince a Walmart to let me spend a few days in their parking lot redoing a head gasket myself. + +This day though really was kinda perfect because something went wrong, our plans got thrown for a loop and yet none of us lost our cool. We figured out what needed to be done, did it, and headed on down the road. To me that's what this life is all about. + +--- + +The drive down to Edisto meandered through forests and farms, rolling hills giving way to the flatlands of the Carolina lowcountry. We drove a route that felt a little like going back in time, people sat on porches of what looked like hundred year old houses, waved as we passed. + +<img src="images/2021/2021-12-18_fields.jpg" id="image-2657" class="picwide" /> + + +It was a stark contrast to the [drive to Edisto in 2017](https://luxagraf.net/jrnl/2017/04/edge-continent) when it felt like we were driving through a hollowed out, ruined land. It may be that it was just a difference in routes, I couldn't really say. I've now spent enough time in rural America to know that I'll never be a part of it, and should never try to speak for it. Still, it felt better out there this time around and that made me feel better. + +<img src="images/2021/2021-12-18_trees.jpg" id="image-2658" class="picwide" /> + + +The rain let up not long after we started driving, and I opened the windows and vents to get some air moving through. It wasn't long before I began to smell burning leaves and trash, a smell that has, for some odd reason, always smelled like home to me, like life. That smoke for some reason always makes me feel like something good is happening nearby. There are people, living, as people do, as people always have. There's a kind of vitality to that smell. It's a smell I associate more with the rest of the world than with the US where such things are usually banned. Out here though, it was happening all over, banned or no. + +<img src="images/2021/2021-12-18_edisto-marshes.jpg" id="image-2659" class="picwide" /> + +I somehow take that as a good sign. Maybe that wrecked world is still there too, I don't know, but this drive gave me a sense of hope and peace I haven't felt much in the last couple of years. It may not be perfect from now on, but I think we'll find a way to get by, and that's all you need. + +[^1]: This is something that needs to be properly addressed at some point, I've already had two mechanics try to parse it out, but neither solved the problem. It's been doing this for over three years now, so I don't worry about it too much anymore. In a campground the wheels usually end up straight, it's only boondocking where sometimes the wheels end up cockeyed and I forget to spin them straight. diff --git a/published/2021-12-26_edisto-holidays.txt b/published/2021-12-26_edisto-holidays.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..48e6822 --- /dev/null +++ b/published/2021-12-26_edisto-holidays.txt @@ -0,0 +1,60 @@ +Edisto is a great place for the holidays if you're not a big Christmas celebrater, and we're not really Christmas people, so it works for us. You get mostly deserted beaches and sometimes you really hit the jackpot and it's 70 and sunny on those mostly deserted beaches. + +It didn't start out that way though. The day we got here the rain we'd outrun on the way down caught up with us. The cold didn't deter the kids. Spitting rain or no, they were getting in the water. + +<img src="images/2022/2021-12-19_092650_edisto-beach.jpg" id="image-2661" class="picwide" /> +<img src="images/2022/2021-12-19_095150_edisto-beach.jpg" id="image-2662" class="picwide" /> + +The rain went away that evening and it started getting warmer every day until we were all in our bathing suits. + +<img src="images/2022/2021-12-26_105515_edisto-beach.jpg" id="image-2675" class="picwide" /> +<img src="images/2022/2021-12-26_105424_edisto-beach.jpg" id="image-2674" class="picwide" /> + +Although this time around the bus was in much better shape than it was the first time we left (when almost nothing worked besides the propane, I installed the plumbing, solar, even the water tank as we went), we were still missing one key thing: our new refrigerator. + +Yes, it's true, after three years of living with an ice box we've joined the modern world and now have a refrigerator. Except that it was one of those things affected by all the shipping delays you read about so we didn't actually have it when we left. + +It's a 12V RV/marine fridge so we couldn't just head to the local big box store and pick one up. We ordered it through the company, which is in Italy, and had it delivered to the nearest dealer, which turned out to be in Wilmington, NC, about a four hour drive up the coast. + +So one day I got up a bit early and drove up to Wilmington and picked it up. Unlike almost everything else I've ever installed in the bus this was totally uneventful from beginning to end. I picked it without issue, turned around and drove back in time to catch twilight from the Charleston harbor bridge, and then the next morning I installed it and it just worked. As I write this several weeks later, it's still just working. And yes, it is nice to have a fridge. The ice box worked, but it had become a limitation for us, especially on the east coast where block ice is unheard of. + +<img src="images/2022/2021-12-22_174845_edisto-beach.jpg" id="image-2666" class="picwide" /> + +Elliott and I also managed to celebrate our birthday in there. He turned seven and I turned... somewhat older than seven. This was the second [birthday we've had here in Edisto](https://luxagraf.net/jrnl/2019/12/birthday-beach) and this time the weather cooperated and we got to spend our birthday on the beach. Corrinne's parents came to visit for Elliott's birthday too, so I smoked some ribs and we had a big birthday feast. + +<div class="cluster"> +<img src="images/2022/2021-12-20_065027_7th-birthday.jpg" id="image-2663" class="cluster picwide" /> +<img src="images/2022/2021-12-20_165821_7th-birthday.jpg" id="image-2664" class="cluster picwide" /> + <span class="row-2"> +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20211220_062505.jpg" id="image-2683" class="cluster pic66" /> +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20211220_170619_NEINFeM.jpg" id="image-2677" class="cluster pic66" /> + </span> +<img src="images/2022/2021-12-20_170647_7th-birthday.jpg" id="image-2665" class="cluster picwide" /> +</div> + +And yes, Christmas happened too. We have some friends that have been coming every year for decades now, and we met up with them again for some cookie decorating and hanging out. + +<img src="images/2022/2021-12-23_133308_christmas.jpg" id="image-2667" class="picwide" /> +<img src="images/2022/2021-12-23_140239_christmas.jpg" id="image-2668" class="picwide" /> + +Our neighbors in the campground also gave the kids rides on their trike as a Christmas present, which was a hit. + +<img src="images/2022/2021-12-24_100447_christmas.jpg" id="image-2669" class="picwide" /> + +And then Christmas morning, which I'd been looking forward to because I love watching them open the gifts they get each other. We've had a tradition for a while now of taking them to a store of their choosing (Treehouse in Athens GA the last two years) and letting them pick a present for each other. We have a budget so they don't go crazy, but they don't go crazy anyway. This year the girls got each other the same gift without realizing it of course so I was waiting to see their faces when they opened each others' gift. They may not look anything alike, but they're still twins. + +<div class="cluster"> +<img src="images/2022/2021-12-25_064707_christmas.jpg" id="image-2670" class="cluster picwide" /> + <span class="row-2"> +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20211225_063721.jpg" id="image-2679" class="cluster pic66 /> +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20211225_065246.jpg" id="image-2682" class="cluster pic66" /> + </span> +<img src="images/2022/2021-12-25_070014_christmas.jpg" id="image-2671" class="cluster picwide" /> +</div> + +I always thought I'd left the sunny and 75 Christmas weather behind when I moved out of LA, but Edisto proved me wrong this year, once we'd dispensed with the gifts, we headed out to the beach (with a couple new toys in tow). + +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20211225_123601.jpg" id="image-2680" class="picwide" /> +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20211227_123157.jpg" id="image-2681" class="picwide" /> +<img src="images/2022/2021-12-25_141719_edisto-beach.jpg" id="image-2672" class="picwide" /> +<img src="images/2022/2021-12-25_142011_edisto-beach.jpg" id="image-2673" class="picwide" /> diff --git a/published/2021-12-29_southern-summer.txt b/published/2021-12-29_southern-summer.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b3c8d94 --- /dev/null +++ b/published/2021-12-29_southern-summer.txt @@ -0,0 +1,40 @@ +It's strange to spend your December at the beach, lying out in the sun, swimming in the ocean. Not that I'm complaining mind you, but every now and then I did find myself thinking, is it really still December? What if I've fallen into some strange time warp and it's actually April? These kinds of things can happen in beach towns. + +If you popped me in a time machine, set it to random, and pulled me out here I would say it's late March, early April. Or I'd say we were Mexico again. Then again, it's not the first time we've had a [December warm enough for the beach](https://luxagraf.net/jrnl/2017/12/funland-beach), and with any luck it won't be the last. + +We took full advantage of it, ignoring everyday tasks like laundry in favor of living in bathing suits. + +<div class="cluster"> + <span class="row-2"> + <img src="images/2022/IMG_20211227_122823.jpg" id="image-2685" class="cluster pic66" /> + <img src="images/2022/IMG_20211227_122734.jpg" id="image-2684" class="cluster pic66" /> + </span> +</div> + +Mornings and evenings were still cool, but that made them perfect times for a little marsh walking. You can't play at the beach all day. Actually, our kids probably could, but variety is good. + +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20211227_100348.jpg" id="image-2686" class="picwide" /> + +We've always made a trip to Charleston from Edisto, usually to do laundry, but this year we skipped that headed straight out to Battery Park for a picnic. + +<div class="cluster"> +<img src="images/2022/2021-12-29_155709-1_charleston.jpg" id="image-2689" class="picwide" /> + <span class="row-2"> +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20211229_132145.jpg" id="image-2687" class="cluster pic66" /> +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20211229_131300.jpg" id="image-2693" class="cluster pic66" /> + </span> +</div> + +Last year, part of what I did while we were holed up at the farmhouse, was to write a historical novel. I wrote it mostly for the kids, about some kids living in the early 18th century. Some of the action, or I guess you would say the climatic scenes, are set in 1710 Charleston (then called Charlestown). It was fun to show them some of the places things happened in the book, in real life. I enjoy overlaying the world in front of us with a good story. + +In the end though, I think the kids were mostly excited about ice cream. History is fascinating, but ice cream is delicious. We've been coming to Charleston and getting ice cream at the same place downtown for years now. It's a family tradition at this point. + +<div class="cluster"> +<img src="images/2022/2021-12-29_165346-1_charleston.jpg" id="image-2690" class="cluster picwide" /> + <span class="row-2"> +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20211229_135312.jpg" id="image-2688" class="cluster pic66" /> +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20211229_135720.jpg" id="image-2694" class="cluster pic66 caption" /> + </span> +</div> + +I'd have to say coming to Edisto Beach and Charleston for the holidays is something of a tradition now too. I'm not sure it's one we'll do every year, but it's fun while it lasts. diff --git a/published/2022-01-03_on-the-path.txt b/published/2022-01-03_on-the-path.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dc3464f --- /dev/null +++ b/published/2022-01-03_on-the-path.txt @@ -0,0 +1,33 @@ +Now that we are back on the road I've been reflecting on our time off the road. + +Everything out here on the road feels the same, or better, in all the fundamental ways that matter. It's marginally different in minor ways -- it's more crowded -- but it feels like it always did, at least for us. We have our rhythm. We have our adventures. Everything feels right, as it used to, it feels good. + +<img src="images/2022/2021-12-30_183434_hunting_island.jpg" id="image-2695" class="picwide" /> + +It's left me wondering a little bit what we were waiting for when we were waiting to get back on the road. Naturally we weren't waiting the whole time we were off the road. We were working on projects that were harder to do while on the road. My wife started a business (which has become very successful), I wrote a novel, and am well into a book of non-fiction as well, and even sketched out a sequel to the first novel. We learned new skills, grew in new ways. + +That was all good, but there was that background of waiting lingering about. I feel like everyone I know has been doing a bit of waiting the last couple of years. We've been almost like characters in a Greek play, waiting for something outside to come in and wrap things up. + +If you spend any time looking at history though, you find there's really never a neat tidy ending. When things become unusually uncertain, for whatever reason, as they did, our response is to pull back, we hunker down, we wait -- no one wants to get caught out mid stride when it all comes crashing down. But it never all comes crashing down. Just bits and pieces here and there. And eventually it -- whatever *it* may be, economic crashes, wars, political strife, disease -- eventually we figure out where the pieces are falling, adjust, and then we stop waiting and get going again. + +I feel like that's about where we are right now, collectively. I *know* that's were I am, and I hope you are too. I think it's high time to get going again. + +But where to go? For most people that's metaphorical, and it's that for us too, but for us it's also literal. Where should we go? + +For us the past felt like it was still sitting out there, waiting for us to come back. So we decided let's go back. Let's go back and find the path we had been on, see if it's still there. + +<img src="images/2022/2022-01-02_131142_hunting_island.jpg" id="image-2697" class="picwide" /> +<img src="images/2022/2022-01-02_131328_hunting_island.jpg" id="image-2698" class="picwide" /> +<img src="images/2022/2021-12-31_230721_hunting_island.jpg" id="image-2696" class="picwide" /> + + +That's why we're at Hunting Island South Carolina. This is where we were almost two years ago when we decided we didn't want to get caught out mid stride, when we decided we wanted to wait a bit, hunker down, assess the situation, see where the pieces were going to fall. Now that we've done that, this is where we pick up again. Not to repeat anything, but to start out again on the path. + +I don't know exactly where this path leads (and I have no idea where yours might lead you), but I do know that there is a path out there for each of us. And I don't think the path that's being offered up by our society these days is very appealing. I think that's part of the reason people read this site. Because you also probably don't think we were put here on earth, as part of this grand dance of existence, to maximize our safety and security, to build wealth or amass petty power. + +I believe that we are here to give the gifts that we have built up inside us over millennia of our soul's existence, that we are here to shepherd each other toward our gifts and give to the world those things that we have inside us. + +We are all in the process of maturation. Both as individuals and as a species. None of knows where this all goes, but I think we all know that the current stories don't wash and it's time for something new. I don't know what that looks like for you, but for myself, for us out here, it looks like this. It looks like walks through primordial forests, long afternoons on windswept beaches, evenings around the fire. + + +I believe that you'll know when you are on the right path. You'll feel it. Life will begin to feel like what it is, a gift, an adventure, a joy. You'll feel connection, fulfillment, that deep sense of satisfaction at the end of the day that comes from knowing there is nothing else you would rather have done that day. That is the path. And if you manage to find it, don't stray. Do the work. It isn't always easy. It isn't always beaches and campfires. Sometimes it's engine repair and frustration and despair. But these moments are fleeting, they are the necessary growth, the twists and turns that reveal. Stay disciplined, stay focused, stay on the path. Let go of control and just walk the path. It will reveal itself slowly, only as much as you need to see, just keep on it, and see where it leads you. That's adventure. That's living. diff --git a/published/2022-01-08_hunting-island-storms.txt b/published/2022-01-08_hunting-island-storms.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7a0670 --- /dev/null +++ b/published/2022-01-08_hunting-island-storms.txt @@ -0,0 +1,56 @@ +The warm December weather was bound to end at some point. We didn't get far into January before that old cold north wind found us. It came roaring in one night, throwing palm fronds and bombing pine cones down on the bus all through the night. The next morning the entire campground was littered with debris. I haven't been up top to inspect yet, but it doesn't seem like we suffered too much damage, aside from some lost sleep. + +Behind the wind came the cold, putting an end to our days in bathing suits, at least for a little while. I know people think we're crazy, being out here in the cold. But I grew up by the sea, and my love of it goes way beyond warm weather. I am happy beside the sea in any weather. The ocean on a cold, windy day is as beautiful and wonderful as a day of sunshine and warmth. The best part is that when it's only 45 degrees and rain is spitting in a 20 knot wind you'll typically have the beach to yourself. + +And cold doesn't mean we don't swim, it just means we get a lot more strange looks when we do. One afternoon I took the kids down to go swimming, but it turned out the beach was completely engulfed in cloud. It only went about 100 yards inland, but once you crested the last dune it was like stepping into an eerie black and white world. + +<img src="images/2022/2021-12-31_190025_hunting_island.jpg" id="image-2699" class="picwide" /> +<img src="images/2022/2021-12-31_191242_hunting_island.jpg" id="image-2700" class="picwide" /> + +Since we were in Hunting Island when the pandemic hit and everything shut down, we never had a chance to explore it much. This time around we were able to get out more and do some hiking. South Carolina's coastal state parks don't have a ton of land in most cases, so there's not much hiking in terms of mileage, but very few people seem to do anything but go to the beach, which leaves the trails mostly deserted. + +One morning we packed a few snacks, filled our water bottles, and headed out to do a little hike through the coastal forest. Hunting Island is covered by a dense maritime that's taken root in some ancient sand dunes. That's actually about all the island is really, and it's in trouble as rising sea levels push the water tables higher, but we got distracted from all that when we spied a boardwalk that struck out in the opposite direction, off the backside of the island, across the inland marsh to an island. + +<div class="cluster"> + <span class="row-2"> + <img src="images/2022/IMG_20220102_094735.jpg" id="image-2708" class="cluster pic66" /> + <img src="images/2022/IMG_20220102_094623.jpg" id="image-2713" class="cluster pic66" /> + </span> + <img src="images/2022/IMG_20220102_092403.jpg" id="image-2705" class="cluster picwide" /> +</div> + +The salt marsh is what's called a Spartina marsh, after the dominant cord grass, various species of *Spartina*. Three things make low country marshes what they are, the Spartina, the oysters, and the salty tides constantly pulling water in and out. Spartina is able to desalinate the water, if you climb down in the pluff mud and run your fingers along the bottom side of a blade you'll find salt crystals. + +Birds love the cordgrass because it provides plenty of places to hide. Walking out on the boardwalk to the island the kids and I spotted almost a dozen species, including clapper rails, which emerged from hiding scold our intrusion in their world. + +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20220102_092048.jpg" id="image-2704" class="picwide" /> +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20220102_093938.jpg" id="image-2706" class="picwide" /> + +The kids are getting to be good birders, they bring their notebooks and write down everything they see, and then later draw pictures of them. + +It was a windy day though, so after a while out in the exposed marsh we decided to head back and duck into the forest for some shelter from the wind. In the parking lot, when we were getting ready to go, we ran into a man who told us how to get to the lagoon using a different route, so we ended up leaving the car where it was and finding the trail down the road that cut across the forest to the ocean. + +Hunting Island isn't very large, and it seems very heavily managed, but somehow it manages to have one of the wildest, more primordial-feeling forests I've ever hiked through. The maritime mix of palms and pines and oaks always has an otherworldly feel to it to me, like you've somehow made it back to the Mesozoic. It probably helps that this little stretch of ancient dunes, which couldn't have been more than half a mile across, seemed to have more bird species in one place than anywhere else we've been. + +And then all the sudden it ends with a salt lagoon emptying out to sea, surrounded by the stark bleached remains of trees that tried to live too close to a shore that's forever shifting. + +The day we emerged from the woods the storms were still hanging around the edges, giving the place a sense of wildness that made it remarkable to think there was a crowded fishing pier less and a mile down the coast. So far we were concerned it felt like we were the only people on earth. + + +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20220102_101148.jpg" id="image-2709" class="picwide" /> + +<div class="cluster"> + <span class="row-2"> +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20220102_102223.jpg" id="image-2710" class="cluster pic66" /> +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20220102_102458.jpg" id="image-2711" class="cluster pic66" /> + </span> +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20220102_102659.jpg" id="image-2712" class="cluster picwide" /> +<img src="images/2022/2022-01-02_133637_hunting_island.jpg" id="image-2701" class="cluster picwide" /> +</div> + +The kids ran around playing on the shore while Corrinne and I sat and hashed out some plans for the near future. We're flying a little less by the seat of our pants these days, which means a little more preparation is needed. And these things they call reservations. + +We watched as the clouds gave way to sun for a while, and then moved back in, just like the fog had a few days before. It was almost like Patrick's Point, although not quite that dramatic. Eventually the nuts and dried fruit that was tiding us over ran out, and we headed back. We took the long way, walking the length of the lagoon and back up through the forest, with the kids identifying plants and birds as we went. A good day on the path. + +<img src="images/2022/2022-01-02_135737_hunting_island_T3RaeHh.jpg" id="image-2715" class="picwide" /> +<img src="images/2022/2022-01-02_140252_hunting_island.jpg" id="image-2703" class="picwide" /> diff --git a/published/2022-01-12_hunting-island-sunshine.txt b/published/2022-01-12_hunting-island-sunshine.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..26968a3 --- /dev/null +++ b/published/2022-01-12_hunting-island-sunshine.txt @@ -0,0 +1,49 @@ +The storms that rolled through while we were on Hunting Island thankfully didn't last more than a couple of days. A couple of rainy days gave us time to get some mundane tasks done, like laundry, which feels less like a wasted day when it's raining anyway. + +Fortunately for us once we'd done a little laundry the weather warmed up and we managed to get a little beach time in. It wasn't exactly warm, but the kids and I went swimming a couple times. It is an odd thing to be walking down the shoreline in a bathing suit when everyone else is bundled up in puffy jackets, but honestly, it didn't feel that cold. I sometimes worry people think we're nuts, but if they do they at least don't say it. + +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20211230_082428.jpg" id="image-2716" class="picwide" /> +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20211230_154613.jpg" id="image-2717" class="picwide" /> + +One day we decided to ride our bikes up the beach. The wind was blowing pretty good and a wise fellow cyclist urged up to ride upwind first, which was good advice. We made it up to the lighthouse, though it was a slog. We didn't go up in the lighthouse because they wouldn't let Elliott in (not tall enough) and we weren't going without him. As I told the kids, going up in a lighthouse is counter to its purpose. The whole point of a lighthouse is to stay away from it, not go in it. + +We went swimming instead. And then we road home with the wind at our backs, our bodies like tiny sails propelling us back down the beach with hardly pedaling at all. + +With nicer weather we spent more time out on the beach adjacent the campground, especially in the evening. With the sunset out of view behind the island, twilight on beach turned in soft oranges and pinks and blues. + +With nicer weather we spent more time out on the beach adjacent the campground, especially in the evening. With the sunset out of view behind the island, twilight on beach turned in soft oranges and pinks and blues. It was usually just us and a sky full of colors. + +<div class="cluster"> + <img src="images/2022/2022-01-05_202313_hunting_island.jpg" id="image-2718" class="cluster picwide" /> + <span class="row-2"> + <img src="images/2022/2022-01-05_203821_hunting_island.jpg" id="image-2719" class="cluster pic66" /> + <img src="images/2022/2022-01-05_202328_hunting_island.jpg" id="image-2720" class="cluster pic66" /> + </span> +</div> + +It's strange how different your experience of a place can be just based on the campsite you're in. When we were here in March of 2020 we weren't really fans. Sure, there was the pandemic, which was just starting and there was lots of uncertainty, but really we just had a not so great campsite. We felt crowded in and somewhat on display. The front loop of sites are cramped together and there's almost no vegetation between sites, and the bus is really one big wrap around window. There isn't a lot of privacy when we're in campsites with some separation. + +This time we were in the back loop campsites, further from the beach, but with denser tree cover, palmetto and oaks provide a barrier, and there's more room between campsites. That meant room for the kids to play and set up the hammock and have a good time. We were also backed right up against the favorite watering hole for a small group of deer that would stop by for a visit every day, including one that seemed fascinated by Elliott. + +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20220106_140058.jpg" id="image-2722" class="picwide caption" /> +<img src="images/2022/2022-01-06_170715_hunting_island.jpg" id="image-2721" class="picwide" /> + +The beach near the campground was nice enough, and the long tidal flats that extended back into the marsh made for good birding, but there was something about the dead trees that made me want to go back to what the locals call the boneyard. It used to be a lot bigger, but the state park tore a bunch of it out to shore up the beach, and, the assumption is, because they were worried about being sued should someone get hurt climbing on the trees. + +Clearing out most of the boneyard was [not a popular move in these parts](https://www.postandcourier.com/news/prized-boneyard-beach-bulldozed-at-scs-natural-hunting-island-state-park/article_b86926fe-15f8-11ea-9557-ab79ab5454d6.html), and they did it all sneakily without applying for a permit because they knew they wouldn't get it. It's a good reminder that just because an area is protected, doesn't, unfortunately, mean it's protected from the interests that need to make money off it, in this case, Hunting Island State Park. You'd think they'd have enough money with what they charge for firewood, but apparently not. Gotta have those white sand beaches right in front of the lighthouse. + +Fortunately, as we'd already accidentally discovered, there's more to the boneyard, you just have to walk a bit to get to it. One sunny afternoon I decided to go back and see what it looked like in the sunlight, and see if maybe there was a way across the channel to the rest of the trees. + +<img src="images/2022/2022-01-06_183840_hunting_island.jpg" id="image-2724" class="picwide" /> +<img src="images/2022/2022-01-06_183306_hunting_island.jpg" id="image-2723" class="picwide" /> + + +We watched the birds to see where the shallows were and eventually we found a place to cross. The water only came up to my knees, but it was a surprisingly strong current. Squeeze and outgoing tide through a narrow enough channel and you can get a strong river. I ended up carrying Elliott, not that there was anywhere to go really should you be swept away, but the wind made the prospect of being soaking wet very unappealing. + +<img src="images/2022/2022-01-06_185927_hunting_island.jpg" id="image-2725" class="picwide" /> +<img src="images/2022/2022-01-06_190325_hunting_island.jpg" id="image-2726" class="picwide" /> +<img src="images/2022/2022-01-06_190358_hunting_island.jpg" id="image-2727" class="picwide" /> + +The man who'd originally pointed out the trail to us mentioned that he used to have a house out here, which, judging by the ruins of a road we found, wasn't as long ago as I'd assumed. Or the ocean is slower to reclaim asphalt than I thought. Whatever the case, there was plenty of road left, some power lines even still hanging limp from telephone poles. + +I'm not a believer in the apocalyptic fantasies so popular these days (history shows that civilizations don't collapse, they decline), but it was odd to wander around what amounted to ruins of our civilization. A good moment for the kids to connect back to some of the ruins we've seen of other civilizations. Everything ends eventually, best to enjoy it while you can. diff --git a/published/2022-01-17_a-tale-of-two-huntingtons.txt b/published/2022-01-17_a-tale-of-two-huntingtons.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..40bee00 --- /dev/null +++ b/published/2022-01-17_a-tale-of-two-huntingtons.txt @@ -0,0 +1,62 @@ +We left Hunting Island earlier than I'd have liked, but based on our previous experience in 2020, we weren't expecting to like it all that much, a few days seemed like plenty. I'd have stayed another week if we could have, but we had already booked another park up the coast. That's one of the downsides to booking so much in advance, but around here we just don't have a choice a lot of the time[^1]. + +We headed north to Huntington Beach State Park. This was confusing for me because I grew up just down the coast from a Huntington Beach State Park. Throw in Hunting Island and it gets even more confusing. But it turns out there is a much less famous Huntington Beach State Park here in South Carolina, not to be confused with Hunting Island or the Huntington Beach in California. + +Like everywhere we've been lately, we had the beach mostly to ourselves. + +<div class="cluster"> +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20220109_092420.jpg" id="image-2729" class="cluster picwide" /> + <span class="row-2"> +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20220109_094001_DTM926j.jpg" id="image-2731" class="cluster pic66" /> +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20220116_155818.jpg" id="image-2734" class="cluster pic66" /> + </span> +</div> + +A little bit of internet sleuthing revealed that the Huntington Beach State Park in South Carolina is related Huntington Beach State Park in California. The men whose names grace the parks were cousins. They don't appear to have much to do with each other though. The east coast Huntington dabbled in poetry, married a famous sculptor, and was obsessed with Spain. The west coast Huntington built a trolley car empire in southern California. + +Those not familiar with southern California history might not realize that the area once had one of the best mass transit systems in the world. In part because of Huntington, there was once over 1,100 miles of mass transit trolley track servicing fifty cities in the greater Los Angeles area. Lest you think Huntington was a civic-minded philanthropist, let's add that all these trolley lines were there to interconnect his real estate developments. + +There's a legend that Standard Oil and Goodyear Tire conspired to tear it all out, but that's not true. Those two *were* convicted of a conspiracy to monopolize bus systems, which in some cases did replace trolley lines, but if they destroyed the trolley lines they did it without a paper trail. + +There was plenty of cheerleading against the rail lines from Harry Chandler, owner of the Los Angeles Times and, ahem, member of the Goodyear board at the time (in case you thought big media cheering on industry's deliberate destruction of common good was just a recent thing), but there doesn't seem to have been an actual conspiracy. + +Today there's no trace of the California Huntington's rail lines. All that work has long since been paved over. The neighborhoods might remain in some cases, but the chief legacy of the California Huntington is the city that bears his name. + +The South Carolina Huntington, whose name was Archer, led a more laid back life it seems, based on some books I read in the visitor center one day while the kids were playing with the touch tank animals. Archer liked to write, he liked to tinker and invent thing, and he liked to study all things Spain and spanish culture. + +I have no idea what he was like as a person, but from the outside he seems to have been what's now a lost breed -- a true philanthropist. That is, someone who has money and the good sense to give it to people with more talent than he had. That might sound harsh, but I think we need more people who are able to recognize their own strengths and weaknesses and live within them. Today we get wealthy people so profoundly lacking in self awareness that they think we'll cheer when they build giant cock rockets that can't even make it into space. It makes you miss a man like Archer Huntington, who seemed to have no such need to prove anything to the world. + +The land we're camped on was once part of the Huntington's summer home, which they called Atalaya, after the Moorish castle in Spain which inspired its design. The Huntington's left the estate to the State of South Carolina in the 1950s. Try to imagine Bill Gates, the [largest owner of farmland in the United States](https://landreport.com/2021/01/bill-gates-americas-top-farmland-owner/), donating any of it. Some how I can't see it. Archer Huntington was of a different era. + +The Huntington's left this small state park, along with their completely bizarre house, inspired by Archer's memories of [Atalaya Castle in Spain](https://flickr.com/photos/124338116@N08/35658863184/). If you click that link and look at the image... maybe it's just me, but I don't find the original Atalaya particularly inspiring. Archer did though, which is why this is in South Carolina. + +<img src="images/2022/atalaya.jpg" id="image-2736" class="picwide" /> + +Inside is no less strange. It's a rectangular set of room built around a central courtyard that once housed a water tower. Nothing has been preserved but the walls and few shelves. It's an odd thing to tour. Corrinne thinks that might be how Archer wanted it, obsessed as he was with the Moorish buildings in Spain, which would have been somewhat in ruins even when he was there. Whatever the case, it's a very empty place with a very hollow feel to it. + +<div class="cluster"> +<img src="images/2022/2022-01-26_130425_huntington-beach.jpg" id="image-2737" class="cluster picwide" /> + <span class="row-2"> +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20220112_152238.jpg" id="image-2741" class="cluster pic66" /> +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20220112_153700.jpg" id="image-2739" class="cluster pic66" /> + </span> +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20220112_153311.jpg" id="image-2740" class="cluster picwide" /> + <span class="row-2"> +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20220112_151455.jpg" id="image-2742" class="cluster pic66" /> +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20220112_154102.jpg" id="image-2738" class="cluster pic66" /> + </span> +</div> + +I was surprised by how much the kids enjoyed it. I didn't even go the first time they went because I just don't find abandoned houses all that interesting, but they insisted on going back with me to show me everything. + +That's when I started thinking more about what Corrinne said, that Archer's plan might have been to recreate ruins. The more I thought about it the more I started to research him, to try to figure him out. He didn't have to work, there was no real struggle for survival in his life so far as I can tell. Once you eliminate that, the world opens up. You can start thinking in longer terms, beyond your own lifespan. You can also indulge whims. Not that he was capricious. Atalaya was not a small undertaking. + +I think that's the thing that bothers me most about our current system. Most of us don't have the luxury of thinking in such broad terms. And our decisions reflect this. There aren't going to be any Atalayas in the future because few of us are able to pursue our idle whims the way Archer did. + +Think for a moment, if you never needed to worry about shelter or food again, what would you do with your days? My guess is you'd probably spend your days doing something different than you do now. And I suspect that thing you would be doing, whatever it is, is what you ought to be doing, is what you *need* to be doing. And not just for yourself. We need more Atalayas. + +We need more whimsy and why not in the world. I think we all would do well to channel a little Archer Huntington. Maybe we still have to worry about shelter or food, but maybe too we can carve out a little space, a little time, and start making our Atalayas, whatever they might be. + + + +[^1]: We were under the impression that we could only stay two weeks at any given park in South Carolina. This is generally the policy almost everywhere we've been. Definitely true on federal land, though we've occasionally bent the rules by a few days. Turns out though that South Carolina doesn't care. Or at least has no hard and fast rules. So we could have stayed in Hunting Island, but we didn't know this until after we'd already left. diff --git a/published/2022-01-23_huntington-beach-birds.txt b/published/2022-01-23_huntington-beach-birds.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..352f41f --- /dev/null +++ b/published/2022-01-23_huntington-beach-birds.txt @@ -0,0 +1,55 @@ +Long before the [Huntingtons showed up in these parts](https://luxagraf.net/jrnl/2022/01/a-tale-of-two-huntingtons), the Carolina low country was full of massive rice plantations. This where Hoppin' John and other southern rice dishes have their origins. + +Part of the success of rice in this area is climate-related, but another part of the local success of rice was an irrigation system that used something called a rice trunk. These were ingeniously designed wooden boxes that allowed just one or two people to control the flow of water into rice fields. There aren't many left these days, but there's a former rice pond here in Huntington Beach State Park and it has some rebuilt rice trunks that still get used (albeit, not to irrigate rice). You can see a video of it in action [here](https://www.facebook.com/SC.State.Parks/videos/check-off-for-parks-help-us-repair-the-rice-trunks-at-huntington-beach/1147180642390192/). + +<img src="images/2022/2022-01-12_195537_huntington-birds.jpg" id="image-2744" class="picwide" /> + +The road out to the main part of Huntington Beach State Park is built top of what was previously a causeway to divide the salt marsh from a freshwater rice pond. The park more or less left the system in place, sans rice, and uses the rice trunks to control water levels for migrating birds. In the winter they drain it down for the migrants that feed in shallower water, in the summer they let in more salt water for the mullet population which feeds other migrating birds. + +<img src="images/2022/2022-01-12_195244_huntington-birds.jpg" id="image-2743" class="picwide" /> + +Our campsite was just a short walk through the trees to causeway so the kids and I spent plenty of evenings watching the birds on the pond. The kids were especially into the Roseate Spoonbill, which has to be one of earth's most awkward looking creatures. + +<img src="images/2022/2022-01-19_195356_huntington-birds.jpg" id="image-2751" class="picwide" /> +<img src="images/2022/2022-01-26_184434_huntington-birds.jpg" id="image-2752" class="picwide" /> + +Maybe they just look strange relative to grace of other marsh birds. + +<img src="images/2022/2022-01-19_131924_huntington-birds.jpg" id="image-2747" class="picwide" /> +<img src="images/2022/2022-01-19_131315_huntington-birds.jpg" id="image-2746" class="picwide" /> +<img src="images/2022/2022-01-19_131124_huntington-birds.jpg" id="image-2745" class="picwide" /> +<img src="images/2022/2022-01-19_132524_huntington-birds.jpg" id="image-2749" class="picwide caption" /> + +Unlike most places we've been, we were never alone birdwatching in Huntington. In all but the coldest of weather there would be plenty of people out with binoculars, and there was often an army of photographers toting around huge lenses. Sometimes we'd see a cluster of people at the side of the road and now there was something in the trees. It reminded me of the [the traffic jams in Yellowstone](https://luxagraf.net/jrnl/2010/07/endless-crowds-yellowstone) that tell you there's a grizzly bears somewhere nearby. + +<img src="images/2022/2022-01-19_195122_huntington-birds.jpg" id="image-2753" class="picwide" /> + +I cover cameras for *Wired* and when testing high-end cameras and lenses I often find myself thinking, *who spends this much on camera gear?* Usually I end up deciding that hardly anyone does, but Huntington Beach proved me wrong. I met photographers of all sorts, from professional wildlife photographers to totally self-taught amateurs, but whatever their status they all seemed able to afford really nice, long lenses. Not sure what's wrong with me, but I just can't bring myself to spend $2,000 on a camera lens. + +The funny thing is, in Huntington most of these birds were so close you really didn't need a very long lens. Almost all the images here are from a dinky little (manual focus) 100mm lens. The one time I did take out a longer lens (300mm) half the time I ended up with bird head shots. + +<img src="images/2022/2022-01-19_132013_huntington-birds.jpg" id="image-2748" class="picwide" /> + +It was fun to be around other bird nerds though. I've met a few fellow bird watchers in our travels, but at Huntington birders seemed to outnumber non-birders. Birders are among the nicest people I've met traveling, always pointing me to some thicket where some bird they'd just spotted is hiding. Some people are little wary of the kids, kids do tend to scare off birds, but our kids know better. Unless something comes up. Sometimes when you see the perfect stick you have to go crashing through the underbrush to get it, screw the birds. They are still kids after all. + +The kids know though that often looking for birds leads us to interesting places, like the octopus tree[^1]. + +Corrinne works with students in the mornings a couple days a week, so the kids and I go out exploring. Initially it was pretty cold, so we stuck to the nature center, where I spent time reading about the Huntingtons, and the kids played with the starfish and stingrays in the touch tanks. The next day was warmer so we went for a walk around another pond and stumbled on a huge tree, or group of trees, with limbs going every which way. + +<img src="images/2022/2022-01-22_132444_huntington-beach-sp_q3XFko4.jpg" id="image-2771" class="picwide" /> + +The first day we paused for a few minutes, but we wanted to see what else was down the trail so we kept walking. There was nothing else down the trail quite as compelling as the tree though, not even birds, which were mostly hiding from the wind, so we turned around and went back. And we went back the next day. This time we dispensed with hiking and just went to the tree. I brought along a notebook and worked while they climbed and played games in the tree. + +<img src="images/2022/2022-01-18_132444_huntington-beach-sp.jpg" id="image-2769" class="picwide" /> + +This became our mornings for the better part of two weeks. They were good mornings, sitting in a crook of the tree, writing while the kids scampered around me. It was warm in the sunshine, and the wind hardly stirred back in the forest, no matter how much it might be blowing out on the beach. + +<img src="images/2022/2022-01-22_122444_huntington-beach-sp.jpg" id="image-2772" class="picwide" /> +<img src="images/2022/2022-01-22_122445_huntington-beach-sp.jpg" id="image-2773" class="picwide" /> +<img src="images/2022/IMG_20220109_121140_lB3u266.jpg" id="image-2768" class="picwide" /> + +It's a common misconception that living on the road means you don't have to work. I'm sure that is true for some people somewhere, but not any I've ever met. It's definitely not true for us. Living on the road doesn't mean working less, in fact it often means working more, working harder. It does, however, often mean you get to working in interesting places. I've worked beside rivers, sitting on rock outcroppings, picnic tables, beaches, sand dunes, marshes, and now, sitting in a tree. + + + +[^1]: Two different locals used this name. One said there used to be a sign, but we never saw anything about the tree anywhere in the park. |