ON THE ROAD: ARRIVAL IN PARADISE

Seattle to Vashon Island, Washington | 17 miles

When we moved off the boat last month, we went to Chip's parents' house in Delaware to ponder our next move. Our belongings had been pared down to a scant few bins, now mostly tucked in the attic, a few in the car. The immediate plan was to visit my family in New Mexico. After that, the future had not even been sketched in, not even in pencil.

"How about Vashon Island in Seattle?" I asked Chip a few days later.

We had been exploring the idea of housesitting, looking through the listings on various sites, wondering what it would be like to live in someone else's house. I had signed up for MindMyHouse.com and filled out a profile trying to make us sound mature, responsible, attractive. It all felt weirdly like online dating.

Looking through the listings one night, I came across a small lodge tucked into several acres of forest land near Seattle. It was on an island in the Puget Sound that is accessible only by ferry. The ad said it was available for January and February. Perfect.

Chip said yes. I sent a message and moved on, my expectations low.

Two days later, I got an email from the owner of the lodge. He wanted to talk to us.

After a Skype date, several emails, and a reference from friends, he offered us the "job."

The property was 2,857 miles from where we sat in Bridgeville, Delaware. It was owned by someone we had never met on an island where we'd never been.

We said yes.

Today, we boarded the Vashon Island ferry to see what we'd gotten ourselves into.

Driving around the island, we found a couple of tiny villages, with coffee shops, restaurants, pubs and shops. The undulating hills are dressed with towering pines that every once in a while step back to show off vistas of water and distant snowcapped peaks.

A coffee shop, roastery and handmade goods shop.

Just after three, we pulled up to our new address and had our first look at home for the next two months.

Inside we met the kind and intelligent couple who showed us around the grounds. This evening, in front of a roaring fire, we laughed and talked politics, philosophy and hope over a savory lamb dinner.

Our new friends head out tomorrow, leaving us in charge of our new retreat. Our treehouse bedroom overlooks the forest and sunset beyond. Down the hall, we have a yoga room and a separate exercise room. Downstairs, our little lodge built in the early 1900s has wood floors, two fireplaces and a rambling foodie's kitchen with a window box looking out over the veranda and front lawn.

On this, my third day of being 54, I am ponderously grateful for this life of adventure and my fellow adventurer. In our continued attempt to craft reality from fanciful dreams, we have found paradise once again.

We will be plodding here for the near future. Thanks for coming along.

Our sitting room.

The view with a tiny splotch of blue water.

A reminder of our roots.

ON THE ROAD: THROUGH THE FOG

Salt Lake City to Boise, Idaho, to Yakima, Washington | 698 miles

After two days in Boise, we set out on New Year's, my birthday, ready to cross into Washington, our final destination. The forecast called for freezing fog, which we'd never heard of but soon learned about.

Even though there was no precipitation, our windshield was coated in a quarter inch of frost, the same thing that happens in my marine freezer, which is not frost free. The moisture builds up and freezes to any surface it touches. In nature, this happens to beautiful effect, coating everything in delicate, white ice, a wintry fairy land.

We passed through Idaho without seeing much beyond a 50-yard bubble of gray. The fog sank into the valleys, so when we popped onto a mountaintop, we would be graced with a sunny and clear vista. As the day progressed, the tables turned, the fog rising to the mountaintops leaving the valleys clear.

We stopped at an appropriately named diner along the Oregon Trail.

The real deal.

We then ventured, finally, into Washington and passed through the wine country, quietly tucked away and closed for New Year's. We rested for the night in a disappointing Yakima.

Today, with the sun and clouds playing hide and seek, we snaked our way across Washington and into the breathtaking Snoqualmie Pass.

At long last, after more than 3,700 miles, Seattle showed up on the horizon, and we ventured in to play.

Tomorrow, we will board a ferry and sail to Vashon Island -- after a sweet reunion with two friends from my Washington Post days, Kim and Russ, a fitting welcome to Seattle.

ON THE ROAD: A SENSE OF SCALE

Moab, Utah to Salt Lake City | 239 miles

Moab greeted us with 7º this morning. We pondered whether to go to Arches National Park in the frigid weather, and I'm SO GLAD we did. The desert sun didn't let the freezing air linger. By the time we went on our first hike around 10, it was in the 20s and felt even warmer. Considering the summer temperatures reach well over 100, I'll take the chill.

According to a video on the park office, this magical place was formed millions of years ago as the sea covered and then uncovered this area a couple of dozen times, leaving 5000 feet of solid salt behind. Then, rocks formed over the salt, the salt spread, erosion hacked away at the rocks, and, eventually, the salt dissolved, and the whole thing collapsed. Some of the earth sunk leaving monumental "fins" of rock sticking up.

Look at the cars at the base of that rock. The scale is hard to capture.

The crystalline snow twinkled in the sun like phosphorescence on the ocean. The crisp air kindly remained still for us. And then we saw our first arch.

It's called 'Delicate Arch,' and we skipped the extra mile hike to get closer. This view was pretty stunning. And so was the hike.

Photos usually capture a sense of place, but in this case, photos disappoint. Words fail.

There's a grand spirituality here that made me feel oh so tiny. But, curiously, at the same time I felt vital and invigorated, inspired and content.

Find the person in a red shirt.

Sometimes it's good to be reminded that our planet is awesome.

ON THE ROAD: ONCE UPON A CLIFF

Cortez, Colorado to Moab, Utah via Mesa Verde | 125 miles

Any day that starts with a wild west roundup has got to be a good one, right?

"Turn around!" I said, as we were driving out of Cortez this morning. Some real, live cowboys were herding cattle right through town.

Yee haw.

We were on a short drive to Mesa Verde National Park, home of the best preserved cliff dwellings in the country. I'd always wanted to visit these curious cliff dwellings, but it was happenstance, not planning, that put them right in our path. Happy happenstance.

About 1400 years ago, a group of Native Americans made their home on top of Mesa Verde (mesa is the Spanish word for table, an elevated area of land with steep sides). In the 1200s, they moved from the top of the mesa into alcoves in the sheer stone walls where they built elaborate homes out of adobe, some as large as 150 rooms. Fascinating stuff.

The road up to the mesa is a wee bit unnerving, winding a climbing for miles but rewarding your effort with amazing vistas.

On the walk to Spruce Tree House, the only dwelling open in the winter, we could see the houses from across a ravine.

This pueblo has about 130 rooms and 8 kivas, round, underground ceremonial rooms. The scale of the buildings was much smaller than they appeared from a distance, their size appealing to our boater's economy of space.

The early ancestral Puebloans were basket weavers, and some of their work is on display in the museum. Later tribes were potters, making beautiful pots to hold grain and water. They grew grain and fruit on the mesa top and collected water that seeped through the stone, and, in one case, from a natural spring inside the alcove. From my vantage point all these centuries later, this life looks romantic and lovely. I wonder if it was more of the hardscrabble variety. The real mystery is why they left. Nobody is sure.

Exploring a kiva.

More dwellings are visible from the mesa top. Their view of us from over there must be magnificent.

 Our drive north into Utah took us by some odd formations.

We ended our day in Moab near Arches National Park.

With one little preview of what is coming tomorrow, Wilson Arch.

Home for the night.

Tomorrow, we're off to Salt Lake City.