No Bears in Los Osos
At the end of February 2019, we made a huge decision. THE decision. The east coast would be our next home.
The sun emerged with a promise of spring, and we visited the Montana de Oro State Park in California, located six miles southwest of Morro Bay and two miles south of Los Osos. The name “Mountain of Gold” comes from the golden wildflowers found in the park. The park is full of hiking and biking trails, also equestrian trails and a campground. The Bluff Trail is easy and takes you along the scenic coast.
We drove almost to the end of the road, less than 30 minutes from Morro Dunes RV Park. The drive was relaxing, scenic. We found lots of places to park the truck, and the high cliffs were great for photos. I had to stay back from the edge because the height made me feel sick.
Jamie took over 600 photos that day, and then that night we went down to the beach at Morro Rock and watched the sunset. Surfers were on their boards, and fishermen were out in the waves. The rain and wind and cold would return the next day. Everyone stayed inside. I did our laundry at the well-kept facilities of Morro Dunes.
Even Vegas got snow during this period. A lot of places that normally don’t get cold were experiencing blustery conditions. We were happy to be catching up on our reading inside the Coffee House and making plans for the following month.
On the last day of February, we drove 25 minutes to Costco in Los Osos. What a peaceful and beautiful area. Los Osos is a community located in San Luis Obispo. Los Osos means “The Bears” in Spanish, despite no bears having been seen in the area for over 100 years.
On that same day, after lunch, we walked to the other side of Morro Rock Beach. A mist hung low over the area, and the tide was out. We were able to walk all the way around the rocky edge to find a beautiful little garden on the hillside. That’s where I decided the east coast would be “different, but the same” as what I’d known growing up on the west coast. I sat on a stone bench someone had fashioned into the side of the slope from the road. I thought of my mom, felt her presence, and I cried when I realized I was going back home to Atlantic Canada.
It was a good day, one I remember fondly even though both of my parents had been taken in February. My mom passed on the 25th in 2017, my dad on this day, the 28th, in 2007. There were horses on the beach, the sun was warm on our faces, and we’d made a decision to move to the east coast. I’d never been farther east than Montreal, but I was certain I would be home on a beach.
We had a lovely barbeque chicken dinner back at camp, then returned to the beach for the sunset. It was overcast, but Jamie took another 76 pictures. There were a couple of surfers out, and the waves were huge.
The next day, the 1st of March, we headed towards the boardwalk after breakfast to see the otters with their pups off the pier. We talked about how we are attracted to the ocean, to the beaches, the landscape along the west coast. Jamie assured me that it would be the same on the east coast, that I would love it just as much. I wondered if it would be hard to stick with the decision to move out east once we got back to Canada to visit with family and friends. That night we told our daughter, Devon, about our decision.
We are no longer in search of a new life, we are creating it on this path we took. In California, I was having trouble staying focused. I felt the pressure of so many details needing attention. My body wanted to feel at peace, and I wanted to celebrate. We needed our friends and family to help us with the next phase of our life less burdened.