The Medicine Woman
Their home is not just open to transients from around the world, but has a mystic attraction to them.
This is the third in a series of stories and essays from the Pacific Coast Adventure Cycling Route—a 2000-mile bike ride from Canada to Mexico. If you’d like to support Dressing Like a Kangaroo, consider sharing this post with someone who’s too afraid to slow down.
"People usually stay here a while," Karen said with a proud smile as she led me up the flower-ruled driveway toward the garage. She was warning me that the house had a gravity to it. Within a few moments of arriving, I could feel the pull. Her caring, grandmotherly tone and the insistence that anyone could stay as long as they wanted were persuasive to travelers far from home. Posts in online forums advertised Karen's home as a life-affirming stop-over for touring cyclists, road trippers, and the like.
A few years ago, a man from Mexico arrived on a bike planning to stay just one night. The next morning Karen gathered eggs from the hens out back and made breakfast to send him off. Such a delicious breakfast, in fact, that he…
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