I'm a bad blogger... I left for the San Juans and didn't write a thing after I returned, until now. Life has ramped up. I got a job teaching a biology class. I'm working on the second chapter of my dissertation. But mostly, I am daydreaming about how to make my way north for good. Every trip to the San Juans makes me consider the idea of moving there, but for some reason, after returning from this trip, I can't let the idea go. It may be that I'm just so burned out from 5 am commutes and 12 hour school days that I need a permanent vacation. It most likely has to do with the fact that I turned 50 this year and I keep thinking of how short life is and how I don't want to get near the end of it and regret not giving life on SJI a shot.

This year's vacation was different in that I stayed two weeks. The first week was spent with an eclectic group of friends, from Berkeley and Washington. We had a full camp with a semi-circle of tents, and we saw orcas every day but one! It was the first year we had a baby come... my dear friend, Annaliese, brought her little guy, Ronan... who is quite the charmer, smiling at everyone he sees. Regardless of who accompanies me on these heavenly vacations, we always end up making friends with other campers, particularly those who stay in the hiker/biker camps. This year was no different and we met folks from Holland, Hawaii, and various other places, sharing meals and stories and watching orcas from the bluff.

I said goodbye to everyone after a week and my best paddle buddy from Maine, Erika, joined me for the second week. Erika has become my soulmate in orca watching, orca chasing (by car up and down the coast, lest any of you think I meant by kayak!... not that I'm above that...!) and she often sings while we paddle down the west side toward Limekiln Lighthouse, making the experience a very spiritual one. Though I've only known Erika for 4 years, I can hardly imagine being there without her.

Like the first week, Erika and I made friends with the campers around us. One older man, in particular, Richard, came riding in on his bike alone and pitched his tent across from our tents. We ended up spending time exchanging life stories and opinions, sharing meals and campfires. Richard seemed very happy to hang out with us, content with life and, like us, in awe of the beauty around. Our second day with Richard was Richard's last day on earth. An aortic aneurysm burst and he died being med-evac'd off the island. We later learned that he lived very simply and that most of his gear was all he possessed. He had good friends in Oregon where he worked at a bookstore, and we were fortunate to share with them memories of his last days.

For me, it was a powerful lesson of how important our daily interactions with one another are... whether we are interacting with friends or strangers. We don't know at what point in someone's life we come, but we have the power within us to make the moments we share positive moments. Though I only knew Richard for two days, I will never forget him or what I've learned from him. And I hope that, whether I make my home here in California or up north tucked away on an island, I will cherish each day and each person that comes into my life.

That was my trip this year.