It is the middle of the night. I am in the tent at a campground on the Oregon Coast. It is cold and I do not want to get up. But I have to pee. I open the zipper of the tent. There is a flap from the outer cover where it is possible to keep our backpacks while we sleep. Our backpacks are gone.
I step outside into the moonless night. In the distance I see what looks like my pack. As I get closer, I realize that it is open. All of the food has been eaten. Even the sealed peanut butter packets. Everything. All that is left are the wrappers. It is a mess.
I walk around a bit more and find Wexler’s bag in worse condition.
We had an extra large stash of resupply because we knew it would be a long walk into the next town and we might not even make it until the following day.
What kind of creature could drag the bags, open zippers, and ravage our things in this way? I was up for the rest of the night trying to figure it out.
It was definitely not a human because of the way the food was eaten. Was it a monkey?
We take a bus from Portland, Oregon to Warrenton and start walking. It is a dark day and it beings to rain. After about 6 miles, we stick out our thumb and a nice gentleman gives us a ride to the campground. People are incredibly friendly here.
We find out where the hiker/biker area is. But before we set up our tent we need to make our way 4 miles north to the northernmost point of the Oregon coast. A young woman at the campground registration offers to give us a ride. We accept with gratitude.
These stories are about my inner and outer journey as a nomad with no address, a citizen of the world. My journey is about challenging myself by embracing the unpredictable, uncomfortable, and also joyful moments. My hope is to inspire, motivate, and entertain you.