Urban living
13/08/15 03:39
The West coast of the United States, like most coastlines around the world, is pretty heavily populated. The Seattle urban area now stretches from near the Canadian border most of the way down the coast to Vancouver, which is really part of the Portland, OR, metro area. Here in Olympia, Interstate 5 is a six to eight land thoroughfare that has heavy traffic around the clock. The towns in Thurston County alongside the highway run into each other. From Lacy to Olympia to Tumwater one has the sense of being in a continuous city without rural areas separating the towns.
Still, there are some pockets of less populated and less built up space in the midst of the gigantic urban sprawl. The Chehalis Western trail was once the site of the Chehalis-Western Railroad that primarily carried logs from the forests of Washington to the Puget Sound for flotation to the lumber mills of Tacoma. The trail is now a walking and bike trail that wanders through the urban area and provides a beautiful place to enjoy the natural beauty of the area. The trail is now connected to other urban trails to form a network of nature in the midst of the city.
The campground where we are staying is not overly developed. Located in a grove of large trees, there are 70 or more campsites, each with sufficient space to feel like you have your own little clearing in the forest. It has the usual amenities of a developed campground: electricity, water and sewer hookups. It doesn’t offer some of the things that are now common at resort campgrounds such as cable television, camp cabins, and wireless Internet throughout the campground.
What makes both the trail and the campground good places to get away from all of the urban areas is the presence of trees. The Washington Coast is part of a huge zone of temperate rain forest, with trees that grow well above 100 feet tall. One wonderful effect of the trees is to dampen sounds. Even though there is a major Interstate corridor less than a half mile from the campground, you aren’t aware of it in most of the campsites. The trees also shelter the campground from the constant light that surrounds the greater urban area. Although there is enough light pollution and the tree canopy is dense enough to make it a poor place for star gazing, it does get dark at night in the campground - something that those of us from more rural and isolated parts of the globe appreciate.
When I visit places like this I find myself wondering about the stories of the people that surround me. The campground alone is probably bustling with stories. There are quite a few folks who appear to be retirement age. Some have very large motorhomes or trailers with lots of amenities. Others travel more modestly. This campground has everything from a few tent campers to half-million dollar motor coaches towing vehicles for short excursions. Our camper, which is luxurious by our standards, is modest amongst the really fancy units with lights under their awnings, carpets set out alongside the campers and a host of lawn furniture and decorations set up.
On the other hand, our hand-made boats on our pickup are distinctive and provide a topic of conversation with almost everyone we meet. It seems that I am always having conversations with people who admire the boats. Many speak of their desire to one day build a wooden boat and I’m quick to encourage them. On this trip I have a boat that cost just a couple of hundred dollars plus a year’s spare time to make. That kind of project is quite accessible to folks with limited budgets.
Another part of our story that is shared with a lot of other folks in the campground comes from having our grandson staying with us. We are close enough to his home that he can go back and forth, staying with us a couple of nights and then staying in his own home for a night. Having a four-year-old who pedals his own bicycle without any training wheels is a point of conversation around the campground. This year I ride my bike to keep up with him. He’s too fast to chase walking or jogging. Like his father and grandfather and great grandfather before him, he is confident and enjoys striking up conversations with strangers. The other day I got a real joy out of watching him admire the motorcycles of four men on their way home from the Sturgis rally as he showed off his bicycle to them. They were quick to admire his bike and his skills as a rider. He was quite impressed with their cycles as well.
As is often the case, we know only little pieces of the stories of the people that surround us. Last night I watched as a relatively young man backed a large fifth-wheel trailer into a campsite. It appeared to have all kinds of amenities for extended traveling. The driver of the truck seemed to be traveling alone. I didn’t have the opportunity to speak with him, as he was busy setting up and I was busy following a four-year-old bicyclist around the campground, but it would be interesting to know where he is from and where he is going. I wonder if traveling alone is his usual style, or if he has family with whom he usually travels. I don’t know if he is passing through, staying just for one night or if he is here on business and will be staying for a while.
It seems like it would be interesting to interview the folks who stay in the campground to learn their stories, though many of them probably have no interest in being interviewed. Outside of the campground are literally hundreds of thousands of other people, each with stories of their own.
Maybe that is why I feel more at home in the rural and more isolated parts of this country - I get to know the stories of my neighbors, at least in part. I get to understand the dynamics of their lives. Still, it is fun to visit this place and wonder about stories that I will never know.