Belly of the Whale

OCT 6, 2004

The Keystone ferry is throwing off its lines. The sky is the perma-cloud grey and the temp is a moist sixty-seven. This morning I decided to take the trip back up to Bellingham to retrieve the things that I left there weeks ago. My friends have since moved out but it was refreshing to see Nate, their roommate and my new friend, and his dog, Molly. We chatted and he told me about some climbs he had done recently. I was/am jealous. I wish I had the opportunity / I wish I had had the opportunity to do fun easy alpine routes like him. It seems Washington has so much to offer. When people talk about mountaineering, they generally aren’t talking about Montana or Colorado, more often Idaho or Utah – but mostly it is the Cascades. The Freedom of the Hills is published by the Mountaineers – a group of climbers from Seatle. Rainer is such an aesthetic mountain. I could probably go on and on. I am inspired to live here. I even like the weather.

I haven’t been struck by the aloneness yet, not like I expected to be. I have had too much on my mind, too much to get done, always a bit more than I was capable of. That may be the trend for a while to come. I have a new home, one that is in transition, one that is still slowly opening itself to me. The boat and town still carry mystery to be uncovered. Sometimes, for no particular reason, I will be walking down the dark, quite street or sitting on deck or biking through the shipyard, and everything becomes instantly lucid, time stops, eternity is revealed: Look where I am; this is my home, my life, my future—It’s incredible! I feel like I have to scream out. I need to relieve all the energy that is suddenly welling up at the instant.
I don’t.
I will soon. I am still new to this jungle and don’t yet want to proselytize my small existence to the world at large for fear of being eaten.

Tomorrow I call Eric about electricity, Bob about diesels, the university about classes. Then to the debate. Oh, such fun.