Looking out my Backdoor: 'Be Here Now' (Travel later)

Thank you, Ram Dass. I confess, I’ve not read his book of above title. But I understand the concept, some.

I do be, and I be where I am planted, and I be where I am right at this moment, glorying in the beauty (even when mixed with pain) I am given, every day. I often say, I am the luckiest woman. However …

An unusual thought-want-desire-plan sprang nearly whole into my mind the other night while my eyeballs ran over the first paragraph in a new book I’d just sat down to read. I scanned that paragraph 50 or 60 times and never read a word. I was off in another world, on the road.

I’m going to lay the blame for germinating the idea in three different places.

My friends, Ellie and Wayne, just returned from a trip to London and Paris. They sent glimpses along the way. It is good, a trip three years in the planning. Good.

Kathy and Richard are on a multi-months stay in France with her daughter. Paige and Luke have acreage on the edge of the tiny hamlet of Pouy where they have lived for years. Their 200-year-old stone house, the fields and surrounding lawns look like cutouts from paintings by Old World Masters.

Finally, I blame the jigsaw puzzle I just finished. I like the intuitive process that happens when I work with colors, shadings and shapes which jiggle my mind into different ways of thinking. From the daily rut to new patterns.

I’ve no desire to go to London or Paris. A two-month walking tour of France? No, not for me. I love that my friends get to experience these things.

Back in the olden days, was it Western Airlines, with champagne flights? My first commercial flight was Great Falls to Calgary. I was entranced. These days, flying is no fun. I dread trips.

My friends’ trips and my puzzle jiggled my mind into new ideas, unbroken ground. For years I have talked of hopping a bus to various towns I’ve never been through, stay a day or two, explore, eat regional foods, grab another bus to my next virgin destination and tour Mexico thusly. Every place has wonder and magic. My job would be to find it. The Mexican bus system is incredibly traveler friendly.

The other form of getting where I’m going that I find particularly wonderful is by train. I love train travel, the diner, watching the country slide by, being lured to sleep by the clack of the wheels on the rails.

What if I bused north to the border, zigged and zagged through Mexico. At the border I’d grab a taxi to the train station, ride the rails on the southernmost Amtrak route to California, swing north to Seattle, west to Havre. Not nonstop. What is the rush? Oh, the joy! I would stop along the way, grabbing even more cities in my clutches.

Just like that, the trip I had been dreading, the flight from Guad to Seattle or to Billings, dropped into the ocean of non-starters, and a dream trip became a real goal.

Now I will tell you the part I want you to keep under your hat. What I’m going to say is not a big deal but I have friends who will try to make it a big deal. Planner friends. I like to travel without reservations, without destinations and times with which to adhere. Also, I don’t have an iPhone. Roll back the clock!

On the road with freedom. I get there when I get there. I meet lovely and wonderful people along with strange and interesting folks. One hotel might be adequate — or less — and the next hotel might be elegant. A delay is an opportunity. An opportunity for what? Well, I won’t know. Part of the fun is the anticipation, the wonder of exploration.

Will I also meet with disappointments? Of course, I will. That’s life. It is all part of the wonder.

Whenever I travel this way, I feel like I leave part of myself behind and that I own part of the country through which I’ve gone.

Today I am here. I have to build a pile of pesos. Today, for the first time in years, I’m looking forward to a trip.

——

Sondra Ashton grew up in Harlem but spent most of her adult life out of state. She returned to see the Hi-Line with a perspective of delight. After several years back in Harlem, Ashton is seeking new experiences in Etzatlan, Mexico. Once a Montanan, always. Read Ashton’s essays and other work at http://montanatumbleweed.blogspot.com/. Email [email protected].