As much as I love rambling around, leaving the cabin a couple of weeks ago was a hard thing to do. I have to admit that I was starting to finally feel somewhat settled into a place and had established a real routine of sorts. It’s probably a good thing that backpacking still feels like second nature to me right now and it’s also reassuring to know that I’ll be back in the cabin come September. This summer has been nothing but an amazing adventure. I just can’t stand to think about it ending; it feels as though I’m moving at warp speed, with nary a thought as to how I got here. How did I get here?
When I think back to how it all started, all I can think about is a cozy cabin in the woods. I think about the smell of the alpine trees and the sound of the creek and my mouth starts watering for huckleberries.
Then there was a small stint in Leavenworth, which consisted mainly of this:
There were some fly-infested hikes thrown in there too and a gorgeous lake that was colder than I expected (also discovered that I sink like a rock…). Though, aside from instagramming all the food I was eating, I kind of failed at the whole photo taking thing. Leaving a routine does weird things to you. That’s my excuse. That’s also my excuse for not showering often. Though we did treat ourselves a few times to 50 cent showers. And trust me, it felt like pure luxury living.
August started off great with a trip to Oregon to attend Pickathon. My friends and I (all super savers) volunteered to be parking gurus so we could get free tickets to the three day event. It was so worth it; Pickathon was unlike anything I have ever experienced before. Not that I attend music festivals much, but it had such a real and (I hate to throw this word around, but…) organic feel to it.
We camped out in the woods and listened to great music all weekend, ate great food, and hung out with great people. It was the perfect way to start off the month.
I have a feeling that I’ll be attending Pickathon as a volunteer again next year, if only to eat more ice cream. Certainly took me less than fifty licks to go through my cone, but who’s counting anyways?
I was a bad knitter during these travels. Oh, I had a small yarn stash with me… packed… somewhere in my car, maybe you can’t see it, but it’s there…. I even packed a skein into my bag everyday. I just never felt the urge to whip it out and start casting on for anything. I’m not going to go so far as to say I have lost all of my creative mojo, but maybe that little part in my brain responsible for creativity is on vacation too and I have to slowly ease it back to “work” mode. Would it help my knitting readers out there if I told you that I thought about knitting every single day? It’s a small thing, I know, but it’s a start.
More tomorrow on my trip to Albuquerque (bonus: knitting swatch!) and beyond.