Tofino's been weird for me. I wasn't expecting what I got. I was, in fact, in mind to hang with more locals, but... it's so Guelph it's scary. There are cute, savvy, impossibly relaxed hippie girls and boys everywhere, and they all seem so into themselves, the scene, it's weird. One must first worship the deities here to approach the fire, and I don't know.
I went on a guided Broken Group Islands trip yesterday- it's part of the Pacific Rim National Park area. I'm not sure of myself enough of ocean navigation, tides, currents and surf to try this by my lonesome, so guides are it.
My hand was still taped, but I managed pretty well- I saw 4 varieties of star/sun/bat/mumble-fish, learned about the various super-kelps, mosses/fungi/ooh and word I forget- the hybrid of moss/fungus.
Ever wonder how the little star/sunfish hold onto those rocks?
I ate hemlock tree, learned about shorebirds and... I don't know- it was a litany of flora/fauna information. The guide was an encyclopedia of knowledge about the environment, and it has inspired me to get serious about learning more myself.
For the first 4 hours of the trip, I fantasized about becoming a kayaking guide. But I think the romance would fade, and you'd wake up still working for the man, even if the man was a woman with forearms the size of my leg.
Today I'm preparing for another trip out to Meares island with another guide. The weather is perfection. Meares island is where the whole Clayoquot Sound movement centralized some years ago.
The surf thing I'm actually on the fence about. My leg is still pretty painful, and I'm unsure how long I'll last using my bandaged hand to jump on a surfboard, and my leg to stand on- especially when I know the reality will be using my hand to brace many falls to the sandy bottom, and my leg to bang against the board as I both jump on and fall off. Hmm... (whine, whine, whine) Even if this did turn out to be the one sport on earth I finally have a natural ability at (hahahahaha), that water is cold, and I'm a cold weenie. I say one more day of kayaking, and then we see how she goes. I even tried my usual last-ditch remedy- I bought a Surfer mag, but I'm still ambivalent. I've been watching scads of others do it, but...
I'm experiencing the teeniest itch to not be here anymore. The odd locals scene, the endless camping (and cold mornings!), and just the feeling that I ought to be getting on with *something* are making me think come back thoughts.
I wonder if this trip, which is in large part to get me back in touch with myself is accomplishing anything at all. I've been reflective- I've thought back and back and back- something I never do. I've been surprised at the detail of memory I've found in some places, the fondness, the forgiveness, the peace in whatever will be. I just don't want to stop here yet- Does the end of the trip equal the end of this type of reflection? No phone, no dog (I am missing dog like crazy though), no distractions- I won't get this at home. I am still missing something from myself.
Even incomplete, I want to bring back a portable version of this self. Like a hardy plant that can be potted or planted, moved around without serious damage. And still grow.
I guess it's complicated, eh?
