Eugene’s is often the first human voice I hear on travel days. He’s young but has refinement and style that hearkens back to an earlier era of travel. In his trademark cap and jacket, it’s not hard to imagine him pulling up to the JeffCo Park and Ride in a Rolls rather than the lumbering Greyhound airport shuttle out of Port Townsend. He’ll inquire about Devon, how my morning is going, and offer me the run of snacks and beverages Dungeness has provided. He’ll wait until I’m settled in before rolling out on our way. He’s equally gracious with scraggly tattooed teens and tottering octogenarians. A ride into town with Eugene is, frankly, a lovely way to start any travel day.

But to the question: my answer this morning was, “Where am I not headed?” This morning to Palo Alto. (“To see your delightful missus?” “But of course.”) But then through San Diego to Baja on Saturday. Next week back through San Diego to – very briefly – Maui and Kauai, then Honolulu to get on a ship to Alaska. Then? Honestly, I’ve not figured that part out yet.

Baja is for Devon’s belated birthday. Yes, last year’s belated birthday. She, her parents and I will be luxuriating away in a place called Rancho La Puerta where, if I understand correctly, we’ll be spending our days on meditation, yoga, healthy eating and generally trying out habits that we’d like to bring back into our normal lives. I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve not actually read up on any of it; just being able to go with the flow and do what people tell me to do feels like a lot of the appeal.

Then, refreshed and renewed, I head west, where I’m supposed to be joining Sikuliaq, the University of Alaska’s icebreaker, for a cyber infrastructure training cruise. But there’s a gap of four days between the end of Baja and when I have to be aboard the ship in Honolulu, so I’m going out a few days early to visit with an old friend from my Google days who now lives on Kauai.

Once aboard, we’ve got 11 days at sea, getting dropped off in Seward. As I said, concrete plans haven’t gotten past that point. But it’ll be springtime in Alaska, and I’ve got about a week left before I need to be back on the farm, so…

I’ll keep you posted, I guess?