Most of my travels to this point (and going forward, I assure you) have been to remote places, where nature is the main attraction. I am not in search of the best sushi place in San Francisco, or the hippest vintage clothing shop in Eugene. Honestly, they hold no appeal right now. (In fact, as I sit and write this I am annoyed because the campground I am in in the Willamette Valley is teeming with people and I’m feeling claustrophobic.) Rather, I painstakingly seek out the far-flung, natural wonders, after the summer rush.

Still, no matter where I am, there are eyes on me. Take the other day: Willy and I found yet another beach with no-one on it in southern Oregon and decided to lunch there. I made up a sandwich and we went and sat on a rock. Not two minutes later, a seal popped its head up out of the surf and watched us through the whole meal. And it didn’t stop there. Two days later a young deer buck followed us for a bit along the Pacific Crest Trail. And don’t even get me started on the sea birds who are constantly eyeing us warily (it might have something to do with the fact that Willy is a master bird chaser). And the campsite squirrels and birds are downright rude about staring.

I like to think of it as a reverse zoo. Here I am in their world, trapped in my campervan, armed with only the most expensive gear money can buy. I am the curiosity, not them. Perhaps that seal went home and said, “You’ll never guess what I saw on the beach today…” And the young buck recounted the hysterical story of this clumsy creature trying to walk through the woods to all his pals. It’s nice to be a guest in their world, if not an oddity. I can only hope that I behave accordingly and not end up being gored because I wielded a selfie stick two feet from a bison (I promise, I don’t own one).

This buck followed us on the PCT.

This jay and squirrel made themselves at home at our campsite.