Days of an Endless Summer

Before I even stepped foot in Spain, I spent a summer on the Russian River

Several moons ago I walked the Camino de Santiago with my son Roland, it was the quintessential experience of a lifetime. I often look back at that walk with a fondness for my son. I can actually feel my heart swell in memory of those healing summer and autumn months.

In the summer of 2016, I had a series of TIA’s and was hospitalized in Napa for nearly a week. Towards the end of July and the week of my birthday, I was released from the hospital. At the time while, living in Sebastapol, a friend invited me to house sit for the summer and watch her dog, a very cool long-haired Dachshund named Russell, aka…Snoop Do5

It was a perfect time, the perfect gig, and the perfect place to recover before my trip to Europe, a trip that I had been planning for over a year and that would end with a 500-mile walk through France, Basque, Spain, and Portugal. Although the TIA’s caused an unexpected, and serious concern I wasn’t canceling that trip, not on my life, rationalizing that a “walk” would do me good.

The summer “Snoop Dog” and I became good friends, we lived in a 3 story beauty on the Russian River, complete with a dock, a couple kayaks, all the Kush I could smoke, and a river-facing, 2nd-story bedroom balcony with a midnight view of forever. Snoop Dog and I would wake up slowly most mornings with a lazy walk, meandering through the early hours of our funky, sleepy, often foggy riverside community. Me in my flannel pajama bottoms, braless in a slept-in tank top, sunglasses, and morning breath often with a pinner tightly rolled and tucked behind my ear, ready to be fired up at any sign of a chill opportunity before returning to the bungalow.

For Snoop Dog it was the canine social event of the day. Noses nuzzling through fences, tails wagging in friendly greetings. Homemade chai and doggie treats waited patiently for our return, kicking off our summer day ritual of an outdoor shower in the foggy mist of a coastal California morning, followed by a late morning stoners siesta in a gently swinging hammock on the grassy knoll just at the river’s edge with Van Morisson in the background, poetically reminding us that indeed, These Are the Days

Fresh, lite meals of avocado, a hard-boiled egg with salt, pepper, and a sprinkle of freshly cut basil, a slice of buttered, wild flour toast with local raspberry jam was my typical breakfast. I’d clean up the kitchen while Snoop dog licked his bowl clean. Afterward, we’d kick back on the balcony. I’d read and write in my journal for hours, and watch the ever-changing river and the squirrels run by. Listening to the breeze and the conversations of nature, the river would entice me.

Wander down to the dock, loading up the kayak with a cooler of snacks and Gerolsteiner, my camera, and a pair of rose-tinted sunglasses to take in the summer sun. Snoop dog and I would kayak upriver and drift back down following the western light. Russell, ever alert on the bow of the kayak diligently greeting the fellow river drifter with a bark, a wag, and a Snoop Doggy grin.

On my birthday weekend, Roland came up from LA to hang out, insisting to look after me for a few days, We shopped and wandered the strip of Guerneville, stopping for drinks and poolside fun at the R3 before heading home for grilled steak, potatoes, loungy jazz, and Russian River wine.

It was during this visit that I asked Roland if he would consider joining me on a walk through Spain.

2 months later we met up in Paris. On a dreamy, rainy day we found ourselves on a train speeding through the southern countryside of France. Stepping off the train in St, Jean Pied de Port. We arrived at a cobblestoned gateway that would change our lives forever…