I'm at the end of a side road off the highway just north of Cranbrook.  I'm sitting in my new office - the passenger seat of my new van (her name is New Leaf Rosa, but I call her Rosa for short).  For days the urge to write has been poking me in my belly, pulling on my ear, and squeezing my nose in an effort to cajole me into gathering some words together.  I kept saying I would come soon, but soon kept getting further away.  With one fulfilling workshop, one invigorating hike, and new friends already behind me, I have had a very successful start to my trip.  However, I still have much to write about the final two weeks before leaving.

I've always admired adventure writers.  It is not so much the quality of writing that impresses me, although fine writing always impresses me, but the fact that while adventure writers are going about their adventures, they are also finding time and energy to write.  The more perilous and arduous the adventure, the more I am impressed by the fact that they are also writing.  While other adventurers in the party might be catching up on their sleep, repairing gear, playing cards, or catching up on their sleep, the writer in the group tries to rally his or her haggard brain to find words to capture the story.  I have tried to rally my brain a few times, especially since there has been much I'm inspired to write about, but each time my brain's response has been some version of, "yeah right." I am not sure how I would cut it as a genuine adventure writer.  I would probably need to take up coffee drinking.

My last two weeks before leaving on the Road to Compassion were an adventure in time management.  The closest thing to peril for me was repeatedly not keeping up with the to-do lists that I had made for each day.  On the day of departure I got up again at 5 am hoping to finish all there was to finish and still have three hours for last minute errands in town before heading to the Balfour ferry.  By the time everything was packed and completed I had only an hour to race around Nelson (although it's unlikely that the word "race" would come to mind for anyone watching Rosa go by).  I may have slightly traumatized Derrick at Kokanee Camera when I burst into his store after sprinting down Baker and exclaimed that I had about two minutes to buy a camera.  In the end I had to sacrifice some errands to the Gods of Good Planning in order to get to make the ferry departure, which I did with three and a half minutes to spare.  

A great deal did come together in final whirlwind days.  I found Rosa, my sweet Toyota, right-hand-drive, 4x4, diesel Town Ace minivan with sunroofs front to back.  (I think the name Town Ace is meant to underscore the suitability for driving in towns, as opposed to say, over mountains.)  I had looked at a Ford and a Dodge van, both with extended bodies, raised roofs, eight-cylinder engines, and cooking facilities (the Dodge even had a toilet and shower!), but in the end I decided to go with affordable gas mileage over size and power.  Besides, who wants to race over mountain passes when you can take it slow and appreciate the view?  Rosa might be smaller, but she has a big heart and loves the open road, and she is usually polite enough to pull over and let others pass.

In between emails, articles, phone calls, and major life changes, I built a bed for Rosa (those of you who know of my carpentry skills are probably thinking, "really?")  As luck would have it, I met Ned just before buying Rosa.  Just as I was getting into my car one morning, a similar Town Ace drove by me going the other way.  Something told me that I had to speak with its owner.  I jumped into my car, pulled a Uwee, and caught up to Ned at Oso Negro.  Ned was happy to tell me all about his Town Ace and show me how he had camperized it.  I liked what Ned had done and took our meeting as clear confirmation that I was to buy my own Town Ace.  Ned was blessing to bump into.  However, the fact that I was able to put together a sturdy, folding bed, under and on top of which boxes of my stuff can be stored, was due in equal part to the use of Betsy's impressive collection of power tools and stockpile of nails, screws, and any other knick-knacks or whatchamacallits one might require for bed making.

I received tremendous support from Melody over the final weeks before leaving, and I am deeply grateful.  Melody did most of the work on the background of my new website www.roadtocompassion.com.   I wasn't sure where I was going to fit website building in, but with magic emanating from Melody's being, we finished it on the morning of departure.  This was one of many things with which Melody supported.   Over the final days, always at just the right time, Melody seemed to come along and offer a perfect suggestion for the bed I was building, or the racks I was trying to secure to the hatch, and for other things I can't now remember.   She also threw me a surprise going-away potluck, although I surprised everyone by showing up first!  - a little of my own magic.

It is getting late again, and already a few days have passed since I began this post.  From my heart, thank you to everyone who supported me with manifesting this trip.  (Michael, thank you for the nap I had on the couch in your office, which I don't think you even knew about, it really saved me that day.) 
I'M ON THE ROAD!

On the Wheels of Inspiration,
Eric

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