Finding surprise joy in travel
What are bliss moments, and how do you get them?
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Crescent City, California, near the Oregon border has become one of our favorite camping stops on the coast highway. There’s a lot to recommend this slightly-tawdry little enclave that Highway 101 runs right through: several excellent restaurants, an historic lighthouse on a tiny island only accessible on foot at low tide; good fishing, surfing, a pier with lots of active and silly sea lions to observe, and an RV park that butts up to a beach that goes on practically forever.
The town is also nicely positioned as a stopping point between Brookings, Oregon (always gas up in Brookings; it’s a dollar less than anything in California!) and Eureka, California. Eureka’s the largest town along the far NorCal coast, a former logging metropolis that holds down the northern end of the state like a cement paperweight.
“Let’s go to the jambalaya place on the pier, then visit the lighthouse and watch the sunset,” Mike said as we pulled into town.
“Yes, please!”
We parked the Wanderlust Retro at the usual RV park (there are several; all similar in closeness to the beach as long as you choose one on the ocean side) and ate dinner at our favorite restaurant, Schmidt’s House of Jambalaya. This tasty little bistro is run by a lovely couple passionate about good food; they make classic Cajun dishes that are not only fabulous but reasonably priced. We had po’boys, crawfish etouffee, and delicious French Onion soup since Jambalaya itself is too spicy for our wimpy tastebuds. Washed down with a glass of local red, we were fueled by delicious food and ready for one last adventure that day.
The tide was out; I enjoyed the novelty of crossing the tidepool reef on foot to reach the lighthouse on its little island. The Battery Point Lighthouse is one of the oldest in California, and its little Cape Cod lightkeeper home is still occupied (tours are available, but not at the time of day we were there.)
After crossing the wet reef, we hiked up a curving path to the crown of the island as the sun began to set in streaks of mauve and gold. I studied the historic white clapboard house, where a light burned inside and jazz music floated out of an open window trimmed in hardy old-fashioned roses. A few intrepid cypress trees protected the buildings from prevailing winds, thankfully absent this evening.
Sitting on a boulder beside a crowded, weathered wood observation deck, I dreamed of how wonderful it be to live all year round at that residence, every day a panorama on a tiny island surrounded by water, with seals, birds, whales and fishing boats passing by.
(On the other hand, you’d have to share your tiny island with the public, and that would get old fast…we were far from alone on our sunset trek to Battery Point.)
Streaks of amber, oxblood and maroon lit the low cloud line off the horizon in a dreamscape; before it was entirely dark and too hard to see our way, we walked back to our trailer.
Still restless, I took Koa for a walk on the nearby beach as full dark approached. I had a sense there was something good in store for me.
And then, randomly…
One of those rare, elusive moments of extreme joy that I’ve randomly experienced throughout my life descended, lighting my brain with a cascade of fireworks, as I chased my little dog in the gloaming along the hard silver sand. I whooped as I ran, and my soul burst with at the exquisite, bittersweet agony of being fully alive.
This bubble of bliss was encapsulated, even as it occurred, by a razor sharp sense of the ephemeral moment passing, never to be known again—and the moment overwhelmed me, the lucky soul that beheld it.
I took a selfie to help me remember the moment: here I am, smiling under the light of the moon, delighting in the moment, and so grateful for everything. All of it.
When I’ve had these moments they were unconnected to any typically predictable situation, or believe me, I’d try to replicate them more often.
Instead, like the stealthy kiss of an invisible angel, bliss moments occur with only slightly more frequency than being hit by lightning.
Have you ever had a moment of extreme and radical bliss, unrelated to any drug or other substance use? What was it like, and what brought it on?
Thanks so much for joining the journey! Don’t forget to hit the ❤️ and reply so I know you’re with me!
Your bliss face and sweet Koa story say it beautifully… and remind me of some summer moments when, at midnight, my dog invites/urges/wakes me to sit beside him on our back porch steps, watching in our field and trees a universe of firefly lights.
Awesome read. Come this spring I'm planning a trip down the Oregon/Cali coast. Always special when we just come upon those memorable moments when we travel. Thanks for sharing!