Post 30- Santa Cruz California
- Efrat abramson
- 2 days ago
- 6 min read
June 19, 2026
The way to Santa Cruz
We arrived in Southern California, which is still very hot and desert-like. Stopped in a large city called Bakersfield, and stayed there for a few nights to get some work done. We parked in a well-maintained campground with hookups and even a swimming pool to cool off from the scorching heat.
Stopping along the way in beautiful places, feasting our eyes on the views and water
From Bakersfield, we continued north for a few more hours and arrived at a small family farm owned by a charming couple, John and Jen, who together run a brewery for an alcoholic beverage called Mead. We reached them through the Harvest Host app, which spices up our journey with exciting and fascinating encounters. This will be the last stop on our current journey. We parked in their yard, entered the brewery, and received a warm welcome and a detailed explanation, including various tastings of all the various types of beverages they make, all of which are derived from Mead - one of the oldest alcoholic beverages in the world. The beverage, sometimes called "honey wine," is made by fermenting honey and water, and fruits, spices, or herbs may be added to produce different flavors and aromas.
They buy the honey used as the basis for their drinks from local growers, and, in general, they try to grow as many of the plants in the yard as possible; for what they don't grow, they buy from local families and growers. During the visit, we tasted several different types of Mead, each with its own unique character and flavors, and learned a little about the ancient tradition and the craft of production that combines agriculture, nature, and sustainability. In addition to the drink, they make wonderful, delicious blends of spices, sourdough bread, and pizza dough. We made the pizza ourselves, gathering spices and vegetables from the garden, and John baked it in a wood-fired oven in the yard.
We camp at John and Jen's in the charming yard, with a vegetable garden, a horse, a donkey, and our own quiet corner.
We stayed with them for two nights, and these are actually our last nights with the Bear, out in nature, quiet and peaceful.
On the second day, we ascended high into Kings Canyon and Sequoia National Parks and spent the day there, visiting the home of some of the largest and most impressive trees on Earth. We met the two famous "generals" - the General Sherman Tree, considered the largest tree in the world by volume, and the General Grant Tree, known as the "nation's Christmas tree."
We climbed Moro Rock, a huge granite dome towering above the forest, and from there we had a breathtaking view of the Sierra Nevada range, green valleys, and mountain peaks stretching to the horizon.
The sequoia trees leave a deep impression on us. It is difficult to grasp their dimensions until you stand at their feet, raise your head, and try to follow the mighty trunk that climbs dozens of meters into the sky. There is something about them that goes beyond their physical size; you can really absorb from them the sense of stability, power, and peace that they have accumulated over thousands of years. It is enough to stand among them to feel like I am entering another time, slow and ancient. I close my eyes and try to preserve this feeling of stability, power, and peace within me, to let it be absorbed into every cell of my body.
Santa Cruz
We arrived in Santa Cruz the day before we were supposed to enter Mollee the cat's house. We anchored in the campground at the city marina to start cleaning the camper, inside and out. In the morning, before we left, we emptied all the water tanks, cleaned all the pipes, and began sorting out what would stay in the trailer, what we would take with us, and what we would pass on. In the afternoon, we arrived at the cute house that would be our home for the next ten days, and met Mollee, the tiger cat, who was impatiently waiting for us. We settled in, learned about the cat's lifestyle and habits, who, of course, slept with us in bed at night, and generally liked to spend time with us playing games and resting.
Getting to know each other
On Saturday, we drove to Geno's in Watsonville, 20 minutes from Santa Cruz. He lives on a large tract of land and invited us to store the Bear with him for the coming year, free of charge. Nevertheless, as known Polish Jews, we arrive with a bag of treasures we collected in Central America.
Geno has been an honorary member of our Trail Angels team.
At Gino's, we met Cookie, who lives in his yard, and it turns out that he is the handyman we need. First of all, he helped us level and properly place the camper on the ground, and we asked him to fix all the injuries and malfunctions that have occurred with the Bear in recent months. We said goodbye for a moment, took Sylvie with us so we have something to drive around this week, and decided to meet up next weekend to bring Sylvie in for her winter hibernation as well.
We adapted quickly to life in Santa Cruz. It's a laid-back beach town with a young and vibrant surf vibe. The streets are quiet, the houses are private and surrounded by small gardens, which gives us the feeling of a cozy neighborhood more than a big city.
The combination of nature and comfort enchants us. Within walking distance of the house are the neighborhood cafe, the shops, all the daily necessities, and of course, the magnificent ocean. There is no need to travel far to enjoy all this abundance.
On the other hand, within just a ten-minute drive, we are already in green, well-kept parks, walking along forest paths, along cliffs and beaches, near flowing streams, and encountering birds, squirrels, sea lions, and other animals. The variety of landscapes and nature that surround the city is simply impressive – ocean, forests, streams, and green hills, everything is close and accessible.
After long months of living in the Bear, of constant movement, planning routes, and making daily decisions, Santa Cruz gives us a soft and pleasant transition. Enjoying the peace, the order, the simplicity of daily life, and the knowledge that almost everything you need is just around the corner, and of course, the conveniences of American life.
Just before she is put to bed, Sylvie undergoes a thorough scrubbing.
Changes and farewells
In about two days, we will say goodbye to Mollee the cat, whom we obviously fell in love with, and go to Berkeley for a few days, until the flight to Australia.
The changes and upheavals enter my dreams at night, and I dwell within the feelings that come with them.
For the past year, our home has been the Bear. A small house on wheels that moved with us from place to place. Seemingly a life of constant movement, but within this movement, there was also stability. We knew where our cups were placed, where the books were, and where each of us found our corner. At the end of the day, no matter what country we were in, the bed, the kitchen, the toilet, the shower, and even the refrigerator – they were all with us.
Now we face another transition. In a short time, we will say goodbye to the Bear, leave with our backpacks, to visit Mika in Australia, and then return to Israel. Another change. Another farewell. Another adjustment to a new reality.
I used to think that major transitions required a clear choice between old and new. Today I see it differently. Life is not a sharp leap from one point to another, but a process of transition and flow. There are periods when we are no longer where we were, but we have not yet arrived at the next place. These are the periods of “in-between” – and they are the most challenging.
In the shamanic view, as in many ancient traditions, home is not just a physical place. It is not dependent on walls, a city, or a country. Home is our relationship with ourselves. It is the inner place to which we can return even when everything around us changes.
When our sense of home is based solely on external circumstances, any change can shake us. But when we cultivate anchors of presence, connection, and meaning within ourselves, we can move between places, roles, and lifetimes without losing ourselves along the way.
I'm not sure it's possible to go through big changes without feeling any shake-up at all. Change, by its very nature, moves something. But perhaps the goal isn't to avoid the shake-up, but to develop enough flexibility to move with it. To agree to let go of what's ended, to avoid holding on tightly to what was, and to make room for curiosity about what's not yet known.
These days, I'm practicing exactly that. Saying goodbye to what was home for ten months, opening up to what's about to come, and remembering that the real home is not the Bear, the backpack, or the apartment we'll return to. Home is the place inside us that continues to accompany us on every path, in every country, and at every stage of life. And the more we learn to return to it, the easier it is to meet even the biggest changes.
Until next time
With love
Guy, Efrat, and the Bear
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