Month: July 2023

Two Moms and Five Kids Camping in Petrolia, CA

/ N.Pearson / 1 Comment

The smell of petrichor seeped through the window. The three littles ranging from two to six sat in car seats while my eldest, my friend, and I, along with the beagle, Aspen, who jumped from lap to lap sat in the front in the F150 with all our gear in the bed. We drove through the quaint Victorian town of Ferndale and past the sign that read, Capetown Petrolia, up a winding road. I put Get This Party Started on by Pink! We sang songs for about twenty minutes from the sign until we lost service and resorted to country blues CDs. We pulled off the road when it began to drizzle and questioned heading back to avoid the rain. We quickly decided we would bear through it and drove over the mountain to the coast where the fog rolled off the sea. The wind blew through fields of tall grass. Petrolia has one store/ post office, a cluster of homes, and some beautiful gardens. A skateboard ramp repping the tag “P Town” and other artist-like homes are sprinkled off the roads.

A little way out A.W. Way campsite is on the right of the road south. It is first come, first serve but there are many campsites. A.W. Way is $30 a night campground compared to the coastal campsite which is $8. We chose this one to avoid high winds. We settled on the far side/ inside of the loop, where there was easy river access. Rolling mountains surrounded the campsite. There are no redwoods in the area due to humidity and a lack of fog, said one of the trail signs near the entrance by the showers and bathrooms. We unpacked the bikes first and the kids chased after one another making the half loop around the site. The large Costco tent will fit us all. When the kids came in we had them collect pinecones and twigs to help start our fire.

We were soon greeted by our neighbors and their kids. We instantly connected and were encouraged to step out of our shells and socialize.

The mother of the neighboring kids told us after taking us in fully, “It’s easy to get caught up in the time-lapse of being a mother, we forget to forgive, and most of all we forget to forgive ourselves.”

Down on the riverbed, we found a small pool with salamanders, tadpoles, and river snakes. The kids used a net to catch and release the critters. My two-year-old played easily in his floaties with the other kids in this small pool. Further down, east, there is a bridge and a trail that we never found but got lost along the river looking for. To the west there was a bigger pool where we brought the kids and found many of the other campers lounging in. The rushing of the stream into the bigger pool was enough to quickly float the littles down a way without being too aggressive or pushing their heads underwater. I wish I had brought water shoes. I laid with the baby on the rocks and I was elevated.

If there are so many moms in the world, I thought, and this is how they feel when they hold their child, then there must be really good energy going into this world on a constant basis. 

We cooked chicken and boxed fried rice one night and the other night we made burgers. We had fruits and circus animals for snacks. Marshmallows and graham crackers for dessert. Bacon and muffins for breakfast. Top Ramen and hot chocolate after heating up some water. We always pack too much food but often forget one of the kitchen supplies- salt and pepper, dish soap, sponge, cutting board, etc.

The second day we picked up the ecstatic fifth kid from Lost Coast camp and we were met up with another friend. The wind picked up and even though our tent was staked it was pulled right out of the dirt causing it to collapse. We parked the car to face the wind and that protected our tent enough- along with a few more stakes. At night we sat under a billion stars calling out the spaceships, satellites, and exploding stars. We played Cards Against Humanity, the family edition and told scary stories that lead to old memories and funny outcomes. The kids fell asleep easily and it wasn’t freezing throughout the night, even though I’m sure it can be near the Autumn.

On the last day the park really seemed to fill. Schools, dirt bike groups, and lots and lots of families loaded into the sites. The campsite supports a good amount of people and it seems that it attracts a fun and heartfelt crowd. Leaving Petrolia we stopped by the store and loaded up on fresh snacks. We made a longer stop on the coast and collected shells and driftwood. Our camping trip was easy going and we were happy to escape the hustle and bustle of Humboldt city life.

Against the Grain

/ N.Pearson / 2 Comments
Image by John Bauer

After being in the festival scene for ten years, I have been introduced to a fair share of magical creatures. Most women I run into associate with the magical Faye. This includes fairies, pixies, and whatever version of the winged, magical creatures. I’ve never been gentle or graceful. Faye is different from the category I fall under. For me to manifest, I have to call to the Earth, ground down, clear my mind, and call upon helping energy. It has never been a flicker of a wand or a little bit of pixie dust; in other words, things have never come to me easily.

I have realized that I stomp on the ground, dance like a monkey, and sneeze like an elephant. My space is organized for those who can appreciate an earthly way of organization, and my heart is always open until given a reason to be closed, and then it’s hard to get it to open up again. Now trolls are a Norwegian myth. They are creatures of the Earth, and when exposed to the sun, they turn to stone. They live in solitude or small clans. They travel and like to make dark, damp, and forgotten places of the forest their home. They are often criticized for being evil and ugly, but trolls are widely misunderstood. They are also full of knowledge, hope, and adventure. Trolls can come in all sizes but are descendants of giants; hence they are known to be large creatures. Some trolls are forest trolls, bridge trolls, and dormant underground trolls. Hell, I think I started as a desert troll. Dancing to drum and bass and dark house out in the High/ Mohave desert. Spinning fire in the dust, the audience being the stars whom I was sure could see my flames. My point is we don’t all have to be fairies, and we don’t have to give a damn what other people think of us.

As a troll, I have a dry sense of humor but find myself funny, laughing in my head over my jokes. I enjoy kicking up dirt, and before I met my husband, I searched for him at every party, gathering, and event, stomping around till the wee night. This fire kept me going and awake, making me particularly worn and dirty compared to my peers. When I met Jeremy and told him my weird troll idealism, he said he knew I was the one. He is the hermit. He is the gatekeeper. He is a source of hermetic philosophy. When I met him, we fit like a glove; when we are apart, like a puzzle, not all the pieces are there.

I get criticized by the wisest of fairy folk for my trollin’. I also understand where they come from. Why would you call yourself that? Why would you categorize yourself as something dimwitted and ugly? Well, my life wasn’t full of acceptance. Instead, I found myself rejected, pushed away and exiled. The more time I spent alone, the more I found myself, learned to express my weird ways, and came to peace with who I am. The more I come into myself, the less I have to hide, and the more I can turn away from the people who hurt me. It’s hard to let go of the people I have been told to trust, those who are supposed to guide me. Having a partner who loves and accepts me allows me to let go of that crow pecking at my shoulder, telling me I can’t do it, I’m not good enough, I’m incapable. Even more so, he has helped me gain the energy to turn away from the people I trusted to guide me, that instead ostracized and controlled me. By turning away, I have given myself space to love myself, work on myself, and be myself- not what society has told me I must be.

I am coming to a remarkable transition in my life where I can break away from the societal norms that were pressured onto me, the long aboding laws that were carved into my mind and body, and instead make my own story up, my reality—one where I fit into my version of self, can reach my potential and can grow in my art, literature, and well-being. My advice is not to be scared to go against the grain, and when everyone tells you, why would you want to be that? Why would you categorize yourself as something like that? Make your own narrative. Not every troll has to be rude, ugly, and drooling. No, the trolls are working with the Earth to help create the space and magic the fairies live in. Respect all creatures, magical or not, and find your own potential.