It is my theory that every trip has a purpose: a culmination that leads to some deep truth or hidden wisdom for the traveler.  Sometimes that culmination happens during the journey, sometimes at the destination.  For me that culmination has happened at the destination of this journey, up at Port Angeles, Washington.  And boy has truth been a doozy.

I started my day in Tacoma, feeling well-refreshed from my stay in one of the nicest hotel rooms I’ve ever been in, at the Silver Cloud Inn in Tacoma. From there I stopped by a BevMo where I stocked up on Caymus, Conundrum Sparkling Wine, and Angel’s Envy and then pushed west to Port Angeles.   The goal was to be drinking these fine beverages at a backyard barbecue at my buddy Patrick’s house, but as I was en route I received some bad news.  “Dude, the barbecue is a no go.  I’m sorry… But stop by my office after work and I promise we’ll spend some time together.”  Patrick’s news made my heart sink, although the reasoning involving some family matters wasn’t something I could really complain about.

Following a leisurely drive that only took a few hours, I was in Port Angeles, which is probably the most northwestern “city” (if you can call it a city…) not town in the contiguous United States.  The air is crisp and cool here, especially at night, and clearly visible just across the strait is Victoria Island, British Columbia.  I really wish I could go there during this trip, but I can’t…because of the coronavirus.  Stupid coronavirus…

Instead, I am stuck here in the United States for the weekend, at this beautiful bed and breakfast called the George Washington Inn that looks like this:

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Darn.

The Inn is actually a replica of George Washington’s Mt. Vernon, and though not a completely faithful replica, the spirit and the history is definitely felt here from the moment you make your approach.  I’m not usually a fan of bed and breakfasts, but this place is an amazing exception and the owners could not be nicer, more salt-of-the-earth people. I highly recommend a stay here.

After checking in, I went into town for some food and sights. It is coronavirus times, so a mask and social distancing were essential, but I found a really great pizza and beer spot called Barhop, and a nice bookstore called Odyssey. I bought a poetry book and a book called “How Not to Die Alone” for my sad, nightly reading.  The town itself has a lot of character and local pride and looks like this:

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Later in the day, I met up with my old and best friend, Patrick, who these days is happily married, has an adorable daughter, and is heading into the peak of his career.  He has this confident, glowing aura to him these days that I never saw in him during our anxious law school days in Omaha, and he remains like a big brother to me.

We spent a long time walking, talking and catching up on life at his office and along the waterfront. Then we finished the evening with some beers and deeper, more philosophical talks on life on his back porch. It was there that Patrick hit me with a truth that should be apparent, but for some reason has been lacking in my life of late: a man cannot be his best, cannot be complete, without someone’s honest love. Relationships, whether platonic or romantic, should not be transactional, should not require massive investment with little love and support in return, and should not require you to have to ‘prove’ yourself.  Patrick told me that if that’s the way your support network is feeling, then it’s toxic, and it’s time to cut ties, meet new people, and make new friends.  

Patrick apparently told me these things out of concern for me, because as healthy and good as he is looking in life, I am apparently looking sad, in pain, almost desperate.  As we said goodbye, he gave me a brotherly hug and it was the first, honest hug I think I have received from anyone in a while, to where I felt like a friend genuinely cared about me and my well-being.  As I walked away from his house, I believed every word he said. It is time to cut ties with the toxic aspects of my life. It might even be time to cut ties with Red Bluff, as it may be the town itself that is leaving me feeling alone and rejected.

To be continued…