We drove the Ford F-350 white pick up truck with Adventurer camper triumphantly onto Salt Spring.
The SSI Rally began the next day. I called Kirk. He lives on the island and manages Islandia Bed and Breakfast here among other business endeavours.
“Take the Vesuvius Road.’ He said.
It was a bit touch and go to nget the wide tall camper up his winding driveway but Kirk really was a good flag man. Great to see him. 60 years of friendship and still going. Hugs. Laura has know him 20 years so it was a grand reunion. Then we finally met John, whose place this all is.
The truck and camper were left in the parking area, the struts getting a real work out to balance the camper on the slopes. Nachos on the deck. Old friend and new friend conversations. It’s been a year since we’ve seen Kirk. Facebook has kept some of the history going.
The view from the deck is magnificent. Pine, spruce, eucalyptus of the island. The channel below. The new cabin cruiser at anchor with the 77 corvette gas engine. Stories of adventure with the new ‘project’.
Tannis and Lindi had visited. Talk of Robertson’s. Discussion of Vincent Massey High School. The reunion next year.
“I was shocked at how many people had died.” He exclaimed
“We’re at that age.” I replied.,
John was keen to swim. Kirk and I followed him down the steep stairs to the rocks. I remembered the Minaki dock and diving off that in the morning. Mr. Laidlaw would lead the pack of boys. The girls would swim later with Mrs. Laidlaw. A quieter affair. Not the cannon balling and screaming of the boys. The water as cold as this was.
John,Kirk and I swam out to the platform. Three guys lounging. There must be thousands doing this at this very moment on docks and platforms through this latitude. The sun declining. Evening whispering pink at the edges of the sky. We swam back. Hot shower luxury at the top of the stairs. Change to dry clothes.
Kirk barbecued the salmon perfectly.
We ate and talked of the paranormal. Personal reflections on seeing the ghosts of our dead family and friends. Visitations before and after funerals. Sweat lodge and ICU stories of others. Moody and Eben Alexander. Psychic Wars. Princeton. Duke≥ Kirk talked of Prem. John had been to India and reflected on the places Laura and I’d be visiting in our up coming trip. He talked of 3 d printing and start ups. Kirk and I shared about what we knew of past loves, the angels who’d passed through our lives. Nostalgia, humour and gratitude.
Lots of laughter. God friends. God friends.
Laura had gone early to bed. Gilbert had made friends with Cocoa the black cat. Cocoa followed Gilbert and I back to the camper to ensure we were safe. Laura and I slept so soundly. The quiet and joy of this graceful place. Kirk shared that the B&B had hundreds of ‘bests’ and ‘thanks’. Elegant, cozy, refined and nestled here in the heart of ancient spiritual Salt Spring.
In the morning Kirk guided me up the winding Islandia drive way. Then he drove ahead to take us back to Ganges. We stopped for propane , parking there to walk on to the Tree House Cafe. More old friend conversations and laughter. Fabulous Huevos Rancheros. More coffeee. Gilbert loved all the passing dogs and people. It was a beautiful blue sky and sunshine day.,
Parting hugs.
Laura and I drove up to the Farmer’s Institute. Parked in the field and organized the camper. We were the earliest. Others would stream in through out the day,. We loved watching them set up tents. Lots of young girls. The cutest most loved baby in the camp beside ours. Dogs and children sounds.
Just great to see Brian. Retired forester, he shared all the places he’d been this last year in his camper. The year previous he’d taken it across Canada but this year it had been mostly northern BC and Alberta. I’d been to Pemberton and others who’d joined us waxed poetic about camping there and the Okanagan. Brian has a great hug. We’re lucky to see each other a few times a year. One of the best of people.
So many big hearts here. No big egos. We’re melllowed with age. Some big brains but really it’s the big heart people we so enjoy. I was reminded of Kirk’s friend Judith and her poverty of wealth but richness in friends. Kirk had told us of her death and celebration of life, quoting her phrases that others had repeated.
We collected our reginstration material, coloured our name tag sheep. Back at the camper we napped and read. The first speaker came on in the evening. Fewer people than previous year. Lots of announcements. Then a classic story shared. At the end we ‘circled up’. Holding hands in a big circle, saying the briefest prayer of hope.
We met up with Murray and Chris. They’d come on his red Harley, camping where he had the year before≥. We were glad they came by. We shared stories. Laura and I really liked Chris. Murray is a favourite for his humor and stories. Daring dashing larger than life character.
“She’s down to earth and easy to be with,” Laura said of Chris.
“I didn’t talk too much. Didn’t offend anyone.” I asked.
“You were just fine. Wa all had a good time. “ she said.
I worry when I’m having a good time. Paranoid, I look around for government thought police and joy police. Wait for the next shoe to drop. Trauma’s of the past. Two faced folk lying. But it’s safe here. I’m relaxing again. Among friends. God people.
In the bed before sleep Laura, Gilbert and I all hug then I put the poor boy down in his bed. Laura and I read our iPad Kindle stories then drifted off to sleep., We heard other campers voices sharing. No loud canned music. No techno noise. Campground sounds. Country night sounds.
I woke this morning and felt so rested. I’ve slept in the group mind of God’s children. There’s a lightness of spirit in the air. I open the camper’ Venetian blinds and see he baby playing on his blanket next door by his older brother. The mother is having her coffee.
I walked Gilbert about the half waking , half sleeping camp. I picked black berries from the bush by the road. They tasted so sweet.
Islandia B&B
SSI Rally - Lambroast and camp out at the Farmer’s Istitute
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment