Return to the Airstream and our roots

Alas, the time had come for us to return to our beloved home on wheels. So much to see and do. And trying to cram it all in was proving to be a joyful albeit somewhat tiring task. But never one to complain about the joys of our nomadic freedom, I was excited about the thought of seeing our friend ‘Uncle Pete’ in Santa Cruz. I’ve known Pete for about 11 years …. instant friends we were in the days of Monterey skydiving. Pete a fellow traveller with about 30 more years under his gypsy belt than I, has kept in touch over the years, not one to forget birthdays or anniversaries. Last summer Pete came to visit us in Calgary, touring on his motorbike and enjoying the open offer to a place for resting his travel weary head. This happened to fall around the time of Stampede. And what a tremendous fun time was had by all. Ever the karmic gentleman, Pete returned the offer if ever we were to find ourselves in the area. Hence, the visit with our Airstream: a time to catch up and show off our spiffy shiny home (that always sounded like a pipe dream whenever we told our dream-driven story). Always one with a plethora of connections, somehow Pete managed to score us two nights free of charge at the New Brighton Beach State Park campground, in one of the prime spectacular spots edging the golden cliffs. What a treat! A luxurious walk at sunset set the tone to three beautiful days savouring the Pacific Ocean at it’s finest. And with Pete to fill our evening with entertaining stories, our first night on the coast bordered heavenly perfection.