Heading out from San Francisco, I stopped by the Golden Gate bridge bright and early, got a spot in the parking lot, and got to walk the bridge. The bridge has been a thing for me for some time. There is a great documentary about The Bridge that I’ve watched countless times. Everyone gets that concerned tone when I mention I’m going out there. Fear not, I’m on a vision quest and I have no time for that. I’ve been on the bridge before, and it’s a great windy and wonderful place. Got to watch an ocean freighter go under the bridge, though I had to scramble to go close before it went under. Those things move fast!
Leaving San Francisco I headed down the cost, passing many beaches along the way. There were many surfers out and I couldn’t figure out how all these people could be skipping work to surf. And then I remembered it was Sunday. Traffic was a little busy on the way down, but nothing horrible. Stopped at Mavericks, a beach known as one of the best surfing spots in the world – but there were no surfers today. I suspect I was too late in the morning. Passed through Santa Cruz and stopped at their Target only to find new cable knit sweaters! Score!
San Francisco brought up a lot of thoughts and memories. Monterey is sure to as well. Monterey is where I grew up in a sense, during language school. It was like college in many ways though it was just over a year. I have a lot of things I want to say but need to figure out how to tell the stories. And to process them. I feel like I’ll be dropping in parts of these in posts for days.
Headed down to Monterey from Santa Cruz among fair traffic that gave way to worse traffic. By the time I passed Seaside it was stop and go. Eventually it cleared enough and I wandered down to Pacific Grove, then Asilomar, and finally back to Monterey proper to check in at the hotel.
Asilomar is a beach and a state marine reserve on the westernmost wide of the Monterey peninsula. When I was in language school in Monterey I would go to Asilomar on my motorcycle, park it all alone in the turnout by the road. I’d sit on the cycle and unknowingly do a mindfulness exercise. I would smell the smell of the ocean and the pine and the eucalyptus. I would hear the ticking of the motorcycle engine cooling and the roar and silence of the surf. I would taste the tobacco of a cigarette and I would see the ocean surf. More importantly I would look out at the horizon. Seeing the vast ocean and knowing that it held my future, I would wonder about things to come. After language school (if I passed!) I was either going to Korea or Hawaii, both of which were thousands of miles west across the ocean. I could just stare at my future and consider. Consider where my life might take me. I was young and knew I had a lot of future ahead of me, and I was not at all sure I knew where or how well it would take me through life. Asilomar was there for me on good days, and more importantly on bad days. It’s where I would learn the cycles of the surf and ponder the depths of that water. There were a lot of known and unknown things in the ocean, and I found that interesting and exciting more than scary. So Asilomar is where I well in love with the Ocean. A relationship that had been love at first site on that beach while I was in boot camp blossomed into a respect and awe. That’s why Asilomar is so important to me.
Fog is common on the peninsula. We would walk to school a block from the barracks and the clouds would be rolling over the top of the hill. The cloud would obscure the road just yards from our barracks view. It was part of the charm of Monterey. It would usually burn off quickly and we could enjoy the cool seaside weather. I always felt like I could depend on Asilomar to be clear.
And that’s why it was so disturbing to me today to come to Asilomar – in the afternoon even – and find that view of my future was of fog. See this entry for more info on that.
Deets
License Plates: None!
States: CA
Departed: 7:30 am PDT, 62 degrees
Original ETA 10:25 pm PDT
Arrival: 2:00 pm PDT
Weather: Warm, blue skies! Then hot and blue skies, then fog and warm, then warm and blue skies.
Budget: Food way below, Hotel way below
Food: Carl’s Jr for nostalgia, Chinese takeout
Music: Silence for a long time, then Thomas Dolby – A Map of the Floating City, Thomas Dolby, Astronauts and Heretics, Spotify mix based on those.
Observations
Saw a ton of Mini Coopers in San Francisco. Makes sense, they’re great for a crowded city.
Part of the reason I’m not getting so many license plates is because I’m paying attention to driving.
Went to Mavericks, a famous surfing spot, didn’t see any surfers.
I found two new Cable sweaters at Target! Got a baby blue one!
I was not prepared to be actual summer hot
The “smell of California” I’ve always wondered about is actually Eucalyptus
I found what I used to call the “Batman” road, because in a certain section it looks like where the batcave would spit out the batmobile. It’s a great shortcut across the peninsula.
Pictures
Top down, ready to go! This is the courtyard of the Hotel Del Sol, bamboo and all!I found where mail trucks spawnAlcatrazSan FranciscoSan Francisco SunriseSo much fencingMonterey shorelineI came to Asilomar to see my future, and it was.. fog
Zero day, no driving. Except I think I drove 100 miles, easy. And all of those miles WITH THE TOP DOWN! It was wonderful wonderful! I think the day started around 60 but got up to 75 at one point. Wind in my hair indeed! I’m feeling my depression more than any other day on the trip today and it’s frustrating. I just want to have my trip.
I drove down the twistiest street in the world – though not as fast as might have been fun. Golden Gate bridge (or not) and a trip to Oakland to meet a longtime penpal who I had never met in real life before. We email about our mental health, and have had some important conversations. She’s a very valuable friend. She was just about exactly as I expected, and we went for a drive and then a walk (they have redwoods in Oakland! Who knew?) and then we came over to the city for a walk in Golden Gate park. It was a longish walk and I spent a ton of it telling stories, but we had good conversations too. Off to a fish based restaurant that was casual but really nice, and I ate very good food and didn’t hate doing it. So there’s something.
At one point in Golden Gate Park, she found some stairs she hadn’t seen before, and we did a whole exploration by a waterfall and a lake. At the top of the hill was loud music playing, and we eventually found the source. It was someone’s 30th birthday, and they all had silly hats and we think they were pharmacologically entertained, as well. Sun was setting, so they had lots to look at.
It was a good long day and I’m tired enough I’ll hopefully sleep. I brought in the bins from my car and reorganized them and what I’m packing in my suitcase, things feel much lighter. Week or two on the road and I figured out some ways to streamline and optimize. Did not really take any pictures except one of my favorite poisonous plant, first time I’d seen it live. Did not sample or take any with me.
Tomorrow I’m going to try the Golden Gate Bridge again, and then it’s off to Monterey, which has a whole other collection of reminiscences.
Deets
License Plates:NM!
Weather: Glorious, top down the whole time!
Budget: Food below, Hotel below
Food: Latte, but the best part was dinner, Pork mini sandwiches with pineapple and coleslaw on them.
Music: George Michael
Observations
Got up luxuriously late, don’t remember what time, don’t care
I got stressed about getting up after 8, so I practiced mindfulness as I lay in that decadent bed that was so comfortable and chilled out. All good.
Drove Rocinante down Lombard street – see below
I’ve never seen tourists so dense at the bottom
Tried to walk the Golden Gate bridge, too many tourists no parking, will try tomorrow on my way out of town
Hadn’t even noticed the palm trees until I got to Oakland
The “Golden Gate” everything is named after refers to the Golden Gate straits, which the bridge spans. They were named that because so much gold had been discovered here.
Videos
Lombard Street and then a regular street for comparison. Not because I forgot to turn the video off and was too lazy to trip it. Not that at all. Also, the tourists were denser than they looked.
Not a bad day, lots of twisties, which I never get tired of. Hours of them, and I’m still happily bopping along, going quick but not foolishly. Had some issues with the sights today. The first one was Bowling Ball Beach. Hard to find the trailhead, and even then the closest I could get would require me to get down on the beach and go around a rock point – except that’s where the pounding surf was. It was a nice little hike. Astrid was with me, as I was following these trails through the (wet) tall grasses and I came upon a tree downed over the path. I was going to go back but then I heard Astrid’s voice saying “Come on, it’ll be fun!” and there I went. Nice. The second was some kind of arch or something about a goat. Bumbled down a unlined road for way too long only to find the final bit was closed. Could have used a sign for that one at the highway. Finally, the waterfalls. Supposed to be amazing. Turns out it’s something like a 7 mile hike to get to them. Ouch.
Love my hotel so much. Needed to go out and get something to eat, so I forced myself. I decided to Uber to the Castro, wander a bit with some window shopping and people watching. Wasn’t having luck finding a restaurant I liked because I was being too picky. Did go in an extremely busy bookstore to look for a book to read during dinners and such. Got Hemingway’s short stories, as well as The Pink Marine. It’s the book that was the basis for the Netflix series “Boots.” It’s a story about a young man foundering in college who joins the Marine Corps on a near-whim. Also, he’s gay. Sound familiar?
After having a cute guy yell to me from his friends table at a restaurant that he loved my outfit, I called it a draw. I took an Uber back near the hotel to a restaurant I had looked at earlier. Expensive hamburger surrounded by pretty and basic folks. So next time I’ll try harder to find the restaurant in the right spot, and not default to the restaurant in the wrong spot.
Turnouts
In California there is a law, or at least something so official they write it on signs, that if you have more than 5 cars behind you, you are officially a slow driver and must take the next turnout and let them pass. It’s awesome. Yes, it’s on the honor system, but people do it! Stuck behind an RV? They’ll just pull over and let you pass. Nice for me, so I’m not getting bored or angry behind their lumbering boxes. Also good for them, as it gives them a dignified way to deal with the driver riding their ass.
Today there were a few RVs who pulled over, except one jackwagon in a pickup with camper on it. Going so slow around some of those turns we all could have gotten out of our cars. But the best one was a set of two trucks. They looked to be carrying rocks or something heavy, and they had extension trailers, as well. Two, identical, not pulling over. But that was okay, because these drivers meant it. They were taking turns at near speed, whipping around curves at speeds much higher than I would have taken them. And I take those turns at foolish speeds. (Ignore the first comment saying I wasn’t foolish)
Fog
The fog was thick. It was claustrophobic. You could see the sun was up there, but you couldn’t see it. Visibility was so poor cars with and without headlights on would come out of the fog like sharks from the deep. I can handle a steep drop off of cliff into the ocean. But when it’s fog there’s just too much unknown about it, and it’s stomach droppingly intense. Equally unnerving, going over a bridge with fog all around.
3,000 miles
It seems I was just talking about crossing a thousand miles. That seems like a long way. But somehow 3,000 doesn’t? I think I’m just in the groove. On long drives in the past I have gotten tired, especially my right leg. Like a sharp but also throbbing pain. Even on long trips with my daughter, where we spent the whole time talking and joking and having a really great time. I’d still get too tired by the end of the day.
And yet here I am, alone. Hundreds of miles a day with admittedly not enough pauses to stretch. And I’m just in my element. I’m in my car, which is an extension of myself. It’s comfortable, it fits me like a glove. And the vibe fits me as well. Zippy, tiny, against the odds, ridiculous. Wonderful.
Can’t wait to see what’s next!
The real fog
Ok, so I came up with this one this morning and hate myself for conjuring it and buying it. Reminder, I’ve been haunted by crippling depression for years, and before that I experienced it in varying levels of horrortude. That’s a word now, BTW. And nobody can tell me it’s going to end. That things will get better. That I won’t always be depressed. That I have to have perspective. So many people have tried to tell me these things, but they never get through to me. And won’t, I imagine. So here is a simple observation about fog, having nothing to do with my depression.
Sometimes it’s so thick you can’t see ahead. They come out of the fog as a surprise and fly past you, sometimes frightening you. At times the fog will be bright, the sunlight trying to pierce the mist, but not wholly visible. You can’t see the sun, but it’s there. And it’s burning off the fog as fast as it can. Eventually, it will. You’ll go through patches of fog broken by patches of blue sky and sun, only to pass back into the fog for a bit. You’ll come through the fog, the sun having burnt it all off, blue skies above and warm sun on your face. And those are the best times. Wind in your hair, able to see for miles, and making you forget how thick it was just a little while ago.
You’re going to drive into more fog ahead. Don’t know when or how much. But you’ll go right through it for as long as it takes, and eventually those best times will be back. Rinse and repeat.
I was about 3/4 through those thoughts before I realized what I was thinking about. Kinda hate me sometimes.
Deets
License Plates: None
States: CA
Departed: 9:49 am MDT, 56 degrees
Original ETA 12:56pm PDT
Arrival: 4:37 pm PDT
Weather: Fog from thin to thick, also blue skies and sunny
Budget: Food above, Hotel above but awesome
Food: ABLT (Avacado + BLT) because CA. Also expensive burger at San Francisco restaurant
Music: Yacht rock playlist. All. Day. Long.
Observations
Went through the Robin Williams tunnel, as seen in What Dreams May Come
Golden Gate bridge was fogged in but still pretty
I could make fun of the people wandering Mendocino but it would be too easy. Also I’m a middle aged white man driving a mini.
When I’m talking and my VNS fires, does it sound cringe? Or like someone being choked?
The coastal plateaus of California remind me of Ireland. They’re richly green, clumpy fields, foliage looks like rock walls, and there are lone buildings in the middle of nowhere. Also, the fields end in cliffs straight down to a cold raging sea.
Point Arena headland is the closest land point to Hawaii.
Finally saw two motorcyclists. They were kitted up for a long journey.
Highway 1 is some sort of CA bike trail, so at any moment you could come upon one or a gaggle of bicyclists in the road. Even on twisties. Scary. And a little crazy on their part.
With the fog and changing weather I was chilled, chilly, cold, freezing, warm, and hot at the same time
The only thing that could make twisties any better would be a manual transmission.
Pictures
That’s a beach and the Ocean. It was foggy.And then it was 3,000!On the Golden Gate BridgeWaiting in traffic practicing for the picture of me On the Golden Gate BridgeMy favorite hotel in the world! I’ve been coming here since 1998.Castro fashion
Just posting to say that I might not be posting tonight. I just got checked into my hotel room at my favorite hotel on the planet. Hotel del Sol on Webster in San Francisco. They upgraded me to a suite, I got in the room and couldn’t figure out where the bed was. I was worried the couch was going to have to pull out. And then I found the other room that had the bed in it. I guess that’s why it’s a sweet!
I’m going to go out and try and find dinner but I think I’m going to get adventurous so who knows when I’ll be back. Highlight of the day?
This:
Driving across the Golden Gate Bridge, top down, wind in my hair! I swear I’m actually driving! (Ignore the fog, the bridge was fogged in but I didn’t care!)
From a dark room, my original intent was being alone in my car driving down a desolate coast with no other people around. It’s been me alone but with one or more imaginary companions at a time, talking to strangers and driving through a million small towns. I’m good with that. I feel like raw me, the essence of me. No masks or filters or roles or characters in someone elses play.
Tomorrow I’m off to San Francisco, which brings this section of nature to a close. I’ll be back to the wilds soon enough, but a couple days in San Francisco and a couple days in Monterey feel like I’m back in a proper city again, and it’s just a different vibe. I’m sure I’ll write more about these, but my relationship with both cities has to do with my college-like experience with the Marines. So I’m excited to be revisiting old haunts and new attractions.
More Trees
Happily for you, this is nearing the end of the redwood experience for maybe a week. But it’s not going to stop me from waxing poetic about today.
I stopped along the avenue of the ancients and went for a hike down the provided trail. Nothing special, just walking with the redwoods. A few things occurred to me. The first was the smell. Sweet. If petrichor had a cousin who worked at Yankee Candle, that might be close. Also, pine. Deep pine. Other times during the day I would be driving down the highway, windows and everything closed, and I would get a strong smell of Christmas.
The second realization was figuring out why being among the redwoods feels so holy to nature, so spiritual. Because of the silence. Other than some wind in the upper reaches, and the occasional drip of water from the rain leftovers, it’s utterly silent. The ferns and the trees soak up the sound, and it’s just dampened quiet. And ageless silence that reminds you once again that these ancient giants have been here so long, and have been listening to this quiet the whole time.
The reason there are no birds or creatures in the underbrush to make noise is that most of them are up top. Flying squirrels going from tree to tree. Birds nesting and spending their time aloft. Many of these creatures in the canopy live their whole lives there and never even touch the ground.
Being inside the trees was both thrilling and intimate. That was an awful lot of tree above me, and while I know it’s not coming down on my any time soon, it’s still a bit like standing in front of a parked train. You just know what it could do. It was intimate being inside these monoliths, standing where the hundreds and hundreds of rings should be. In some cases I could be there because of a trauma to the tree, others because some of these spaces grew that way. Regardless, I felt privileged. It also reminded me strongly of Speaker for the Dead by Orson Scott Card. The central figures in the novel have a unique relationship with trees and their ancestors and how everything is part of the same organism.
Food
I have had a difficult past with food. It’s not a great relationship. I was given a diagnosis of Disordered Eating, but not an Eating Disorder. I’ve always been a little put out by having to eat, in fact a couple decades ago I wrote something called “The Food Rant” outlining all the reasons eating is a hassle. During my depressive episodes I tend to stop eating, only eating when someone else urges me or I’m in a restaurant with friends, where not eating would be awkward. But I’ve been known to go days without eating, and one of the elements of this trip is trying to improve that. I’m giving myself a liquid breakfast of Latte and Orange Juice, but determined to have a proper lunch and a proper dinner. I’m eating out on this trip, obviously, and after about three days I got burned out on hamburgers. But BLTs are a great lunchtime thing for me, and they tick a lot of the food group checkboxes.
It’s dinner that’s a challenge. I’m actually very comfortable going out and eating on my own. I bring a book sometimes or do things on my phone, like organize today’s blog thoughts. But finding a restaurant is still a challenge. I don’t drink, and pub food tends to be greasy anyway. But I get on google maps and do my research and find something that works.
Tonight it was a restaurant called Flow in Mendocino. Moderately diverse menu. But so many of the options were too much food. Restaurants do that anyway, and it kills me to order something and only eat a third. It’s not like I’m doing leftovers here. And so I found the Prawns and Chips and chose that. It was pretty good, and I knew prawns aren’t cheap, so I wasn’t going to get too many. Fish and chips you occasionally get some fries and nine whole fish. Frustrating.
The reason I went off on food is just that it’s something I’m working on, and it helps me organize my thoughts to write about it. Thank you for your patience.
Deets
License Plates: None new, again!
States: CA
Departed: 8:50 am PDT, 61 degrees – Had another psychiatrist appointment early
Original ETA 1:04pm PDT
Arrival: 3:07 pm PDT
Weather: Rainy, giving way to occasional not raining, 55-60 degrees
Roads: Some interstate level of sophistication, also the most intense twisties I’ve ever seen in my life. They will be joyfully seared in my memory forever.
Budget: Food above (not worth it), Hotel at budget
Food: Taco Bell, Flow restaurant in Mendocino, Prawns and Chips
Music: Lamb – Lamb, Portishead – Dummy, Girl Talk – Feed the Animals, Bis – Return to Central
Observations
Eel creek does not have eels in it, thank goodness. No, it’s thick with lamprey (google it) that they thought were eels. EEK!
Went to Taco Bell, it was easy and I was a bit peopled out. Older couple trying to navigate the electronic ordering menu when I got there. Ordered, waited, got my order, left. They were still trying to order. They are likely still there. They did not seem like they gave up easily.
101 in California at this point is “Veteran’s Memorial Highway” thank you very much. I know I’m not memorial, but still.
The lost coast highway makes my stomach not want to be where it is. In a good way.
From the deck of my bungalow (#humblebrag) I can’t see the ocean, but I can hear it roaring so loudly. Driving to dinner I thought about that and the fact that the lifeboatmen would row out to ships in distress in this inky black darkness, with giant rollers coming at them unseen. I cannot fathom that level of optimism or bravery. (Come to think of it, I may have a view of the ocean, but the fog will have none of that today.)
I booked a bungalow (same price) at this mo/hotel and it’s really sweet. Pictures below.
I had a better conversation with myself than the dour lesbians at the table by the window had with each other. Also, they monopolized the waiter.
I drove through a tree. Yes, I paid tourism for the joy of it. My Mini Cooper barely squeaked through the thing, I have no idea how the SUV’s are doing it. The lady said they work very hard at it.
Avenue of the Ancients is an old stagecoach trail, thus the small towns every six miles. For the horses. It’s current purpose is to allow you to drive through groves and groves of redwoods, with stops for trails along the way. The trees are so close to the road they’ve installed reflectors on posts in front of them. Seriously right at the edge of the lane. The speed limit is 55 but I was going 40 and that felt way too fast.
Pictures
Me and a tree. Too wide to get in the picture.I was actually inside two of the trees in founders grove. Weird knowing how much wood was above me.The path goes through a cut, That trunk at the path is one Robert tallThis root mass from a fallen redwood is three Roberts tall!Approximately four Roberts acrossComing out of the tree, no scratches!My bungalow, living room and everything. Also, no shared walls.View from my bungalow. That’s fog.
Enjoy some twisties. Set it to 2x speed for even more fun. The thing you’re not getting is the g-forces of going around some of those curves at speed. I was never going above the speed limit or the speeds of the signs, but I was often right there. I think you can even hear me gasp once or twice and I get my core workout trying to stay in the seat. So much fun!
It was a good day to drive. Storm warning had google telling me 101 was going to be closed, or was already. If so, there aren’t a lot of alternate routes, so I just plowed ahead. The rain was similar to yesterday. anything from Threatening to rain, to drizzle, all the way up to deluge. At one point I’m driving and it’s raining lightly, and then I look up and see water coming at me. Like someone had just thrown a bucket of water, I could literally see to coming for me. It hit the car and just kept coming. A true deluge. For about ten minutes. Regardless, roads were good. Sometimes single lane, sometimes Interstate type double. Passing lanes were often and useful. There were twisties galore, though in the midst of them there was an electronic sign saying “Sunken grade” meaning it was potentially an imminent slide right under the road. I felt like the sign was just saying “Good Luck!” I’m not going to share my feelings about the “Gulf War, Iraq, Afghanistan Veterans Memorial Highway” because it would be petty. IYKYK.
I concede ultimate boat nerd title to my sister, though I might ask why she doesn’t have a record of each ship she’s seen before 2018. I haven’t been recording mine for much longer than that.
I wouldn’t be surprised if Oregon had a saying similar to ours. We say “If you don’t like the weather, wait 15 minutes” – but I think in Oregon it would be “If you don’t like the weather, wait 15 minutes, it’ll get worse.” Though I was buying items in a store and the lady asked if I was keeping dry. I mentioned the deluge and she said “It’s it great?” That’s one positive attitude dealing with what you get. Gave me a bit of a different perspective. That said, I like the rain and it keep the tourists away. Those other people on the beach really want to be there.
At one point I was driving around a curve and the cliff went straight down – quite a ways. But what was interesting was that sea spray from the surf was coming up over the road. Not water, just spray. That was cool! Finally, I have grown accustomed to the wind, and love just bobbing along. Between the road unevenness, the wind, and my steering against the wind, I feel I’m just bouncing along like a cartoon car. Jaunty!
Trees
I hate those smarmy people who say “Oh you simple must go to Majorca – I simply can’t tell you how blue the water is!” because it’s like “So why tell me?” Well, sorry folks, but I’m about to do just that.
You look on a map and see “Oh, yeah, the redwoods. I’ve heard of that. I’ll go look at them and maybe take a picture.” You don’t really think about it, it’s just another destination. Then you get there are are just blown away. I’d heard about the redwoods. Yeah, great, they’re tall. Woo hoo. And I’m sure people told me I couldn’t understand without going there. But for as much as I like to go on and on about describing something in form and vibe, I can’t do that for the redwoods. They’re just too much.
Like, nature puke amazing.
So I’m going to try anyway. Or share my impressions. And from this point on, pretend I’m whispering, because that was what I was doing to my recorder, and actually in my head too. Like someone whispers in church. I’m not churchy, I got burned out in eight grade. But when I get into the woods, I get reverent in a big way. Tomorrow is actually the redwood day, but I saw a sign for the Newton B. Drury Scenic Parkway. I saw on the map that it was just running parallel to my route, so easy enough, let’s go. (On the recorded bits I refer to we and our and such the absolute whole time. Dad.). This byway is part of the Redwood Highway, which actually stretched from Oregon through California back in the early days of automobiles.
The vast majority of the time I was the only one in sight, on the road or in the woods. The road was tight, greenery coming close on both sides, even a speed sign was half grown over with vegetation. The road is covered in what look like red wood chips. They’re actually needles, and it feels like the trees have laid claim to the road.
When the big trees started showing up in force I opened the sunroof. It was a rare moment of no rain, and almost warm enough. But it was worth it to be able to see the trees from bottom to top. Redwoods are not complicated. Not lot of branching trunks or huge branches. Just Big. Straight up. Just enough branches to hold needles. But you can see the whole tree quite often, and it makes them seen even bigger. Sunroof it less commitment than top down, but yields quite a view. I loved the wind in my hair. Also enjoyed feeling like I was on the third moon of Endor. Especially since they shot those scenes in similar forests.
Ok, let’s go to church, shall we? I had been seeing pullouts with informational signs on them, and eventually just picked one. Helpful map display there told me there was “Big Tree” (just the one?) on the path, but I wasn’t sure of the scale, so I didn’t know if I would go that far. Just getting into the forest on foot made you feel their presence. I stopped and just put my hand on one tree, just to see if I could feel something. I think my mind gave me lots to think about by doing that, but I felt no vibrations or energy. But I hoped there might be some getting to me somehow.
I came upon a downed redwood that had been across the path, but cut to make room for the path. This would have been a Very Long Time Ago. A regular tree was growing from the downed section. Gotta be pretty big to support a regular tree, 10 feet off the ground. I’m starting to feel it.
And I came upon a couple trying to take a couple selfie in front of a tree, and I offered to take their picture. I think I got a great one for them. Should have asked for the same. But this is when I start to understand why. This was The Big Tree. I have a picture, just for the numbers. But the only number I really paid attention to was its age. 1500 years. That’s a guess, sure, but. 1500 years. That’s not just before the revolutionary war. We’re talking about Romans and Dark Ages.
And they’ve just been there. Watching people and animals pass by, just growing a bit taller and adding a ring every year. Hundreds of years of standing silently over everything within their sight. Putting my hand on The Big Tree I still couldn’t feel anything vibrating to me. But I was touching something so old, so likely to outlive us all. And that made me feel something. My life is a twitch in that timeline. With any luck my children will have children and I’ll propagate my DNA and maybe someone in my own tree will do something to better the world.
1500 years. I just don’t know where to put me in that.
Ocean
I’d like to say trees are the big feelings in this post, but they’re not. It’s the Ocean.
When I went off to the Marines, I had never seen an ocean. I saw the great lakes, but .. they’re not the ocean. They’re great and all, I love them. But they don’t have salt in them. You can’t smell and taste them. Sometimes you can feel their power swimming in them, but they’re not the ocean. I’ve swum in the ocean and each time I was reminded just how little I am, and how dangerous it could be if it wanted to.
So there I am in boot camp. Further along than I think most of my family thought I would make it. And we were out camping and playing games and having picnics. (Maneuvers, wargames, MREs). We were on a forced march, and one of the tricks we had was changing socks. If you change your socks halfway through a long hike, you are renewed. It’s like starting over. Try it, you won’t regret it. Well we were about to stop for a “sock break” while marching through sand, and went up over a dune. And there it was. The Pacific Ocean. I was stunned. We all sat on the beach for a 15 minute break to change our socks and drink water. So there I am changing my socks and having a religious experience. It was so loud, the waves crashing in on themselves. Yet there would be moments between sets of waves that it would be absolutely silent. This thing that I could smell and see and hear was a thing of awe. We use that word a lot, but I always come back to the things in our lives that fill us with actual awe. A redwood. Your child eating. Someone you love caring for you. The Ocean.
Next, I was off to language school. This was in Monterey California and I accepted the new MOS in boot camp because my friend said Monterey was nice – they vacationed there. The choices of the wise youth. I frankly sucked at learning an extremely difficult language. a couple times I thought I “rocked” out but managed to pass by the skin of my teeth. I had a motorcycle, and i would ride it down to Asilomar beach, home of the great late night beach parties. But during the day, or better yet evening, I would ride down and just park at a little widening in the road overlooking some tide pools and, more importantly, the Actual Pacific Ocean. I was trying to escape from homework, the stress of being a new Marine (one with a secret, no less!) and just wondering what my future held. As a Marine, I was going to be out there. Either I would be going to Korea, as I hoped, to do my actual job using my poorly learned language. Or I would be going to Hawaii where the rest of my peers were going. From there I could go out on floats touring the rest of the world on water. I wish I had gotten that opportunity, to be living on the sea for extended periods of time! From what I hear of the cramped conditions I’m okay that I didn’t.
But my future was out across that scary intimidating beautiful monster, and I felt so many feelings. I think that’s where I fell in love with her.
The next time I got to interact with the ocean was in Hawaii. Every new Marine on the island tends to buy a set of fins and snorkel and mask. You use it once or twice, and then it goes in your wall locker for next time, Which may not come. It was fun to play around in the water, we were in an extinct volcanic bay and there was a ton of coral as well as a million fish. That was cool. But it was just swimming at the beach on base that I loved so much. It was across the flightline, so you got to drive over a runway to get there. Also, not a lot of people knew about it, so I was often there with just a few of my friends.
We had boogie boards by then but they were in the wall locker with the snorkel. We would just throw ourselves against the waves, or try and body surf back to the beach. You took a pretty good beating, but as Marines that just made us more thrilled with the experience. There was on occasion where the waves and the surf was monstrous. There were ominous dark clouds, and we just wanted to get in before it rained. And it was glorious. Crushing waves would just beat you and push you down to the bottom of the water. Just standing in front of a wave as if to defy it, you would get blasted back to the beach. I can still remember the strange light coming through the waves. Against the dark skies the waves seemed to glow. Not that pretty blue in the paintings of surf that everyone is coming nowadays. But a gray light, highlighting the shredded vines of kelp in the water. There was so much more of it than usual. One of my friends who was a surfer explained that the power of the waves, the reason they were pulling up so much seaweed, came from a tropic depression over Alaska. I don’t know if that was true or not, but at the time I was again in awe, considering our world’s ability to create a near-hurricane halfway up the world from us, and have that energy come through that desolate sea only to wash up on the beach in the form of these humbling splashes. Awe.
From there, it pretty much went downhill, my relationship with the sea. I got to visit California a few times, and would always go to the water just to feel that awe, but it wasn’t the same. I would visit relates on the east coast and get to what someone would say was the ocean, or part of the ocean, but the endless horizon was way over behind that land there. My first love will always be the Pacific.
And that almost brings us up to the present. Almost. A handful of years ago, more than I care to consider, I got sick. Depression and anxiety ravaged my career, my relationships, and everything I knew about the world. There’s so much right there. But recently, as my world continued to implode, I was preparing to lose my job – which meant the end of that career and everything I knew about what I could do.
“When I lose this job I’m going to get in my car and drive west until I find an ocean.”
And in a more prepared sort of way, that’s what I planned to do. Mere days before I intended to take the trip, I got word that my job was indeed lost. Reeling from that news, I attended a family member’s memorial which pulled my guts out, and came home to.. nothing?
A day later I got in the car and drove. And this week or so (time means nothing to me anymore) I made it to the ocean. I’ve had rain since the rockies, and maybe hoped for some sun. But when I got to the water and a storm was brewing oh so many days ago now, the “sea, she was angry that day.” I got to feel that power, and even if there was no silent portion to the crashing waves, it was like she was welcoming me back. Angrily, crashing loudly and full of foam, she knew what I needed, and that’s what she gave me.
Awe.
Deets
License Plates: None
States: OR, CA
Departed: 7:48 am MDT, 55 degrees
Original ETA 12:37pm MDT
Arrival: 4:16 pm PDT
Weather: Rain, drizzle to deluge
Budget: Food well below, Hotel below
Food: Fast food, Jack In The Box Ultimate Cheeseburger!
Music: Funki Porcini – Love Pussycats & Carwrecks, Coldcut – Let Us Replay, Cujo – Adventures in Foam, Funki Porcini – The Ultimately Empty Million Pounds, Mix based on the previous
Observations
Last night’s hotel smelled like dog, I hope
I love the 24 oz coffees I’m finding
Just took Tylenol maybe because arthritis? Hope not. Not old. Right?
How many times in history has the one sole survivor been the idiot who got rescued because he did a stupid thing, and it turned out to be life saving?
In California, all of the viewponts are called Vista Point, took me three of those to figure that out.
Made it to a cell phone no fly zone and google maps was not happy about that. It was nice to be off the grid even for a bit though.
Went past Elk Prairie, which was giant fields, on both sides of the road. They had wooden fences to keep Elk in people out, and I guess elk come and graze there from time to time? I saw no Elk. I did, however, see Elk in the next town, just grazing in front of some buildings.
I still have to have appointments with my care team, and I today was the first one. I was worried about getting caught out in the no coverage areas, but planned a lunch stop for today’s call. I camped out in front of a Starbucks for their WiFi. Turns out I forgot to connect and did the whole call on 5G. Problem solved!
Pictures
A Am I in Bemidji or something?Yikes! That just drops right off.Here’s your new desktop backgroundRare rays of lightRainbow!
Guessing the mileage is near 2,500 miles. It was 2,200 yesterday and I forgot to mention it, and I put on ~240 miles today, so.. I’m not catching the round numbers very well. I don’t care. Passed a sign today that warned of “sunken grade” which apparently is notifying that the earth under the road has either slid away, or could at any time. So a live slide warning, I guess. The first fun was the Storm Warning that google said could impact my trip. I’m imagining getting gale force winds blowing me off the cliffs.
I thought the coast was going to be exhausting because I would spend all day doing twisties on the roads, but it turned out there are a lot of small towns on the coast. A whole lot. Some of them cute, some of them boring, some of them large enough to have fast food joints and Valvoline oil places and Walmarts. Kinda breaks the mood. And why are there so many Mercedes here? And why are they so slow. Actually I think I can guess on the latter.
I really enjoyed it when the roads became constantly twisty. Up, down, left, right. Cliffs going up on the left, deep dropoff on the right. Sometimes in the woods, where it gets nice and spooky. There was rain much of the day, and they threw in some fog just to sweeten the deal. Having seen Elk warning signs and Tsunami hazard zone signs, that get you:
It got dark enough with all of the above that my car went dark display thinking it was night time. Speaking of night time, I went out tonight to get dinner and it was dark and raining and I didn’t like it one bit. I’m old.
And I don’t quite know why, but I felt like Keanu Reeves at the end of (spoilers!) Point Break. Driving from beach to beach during stormy weather and downpour, looking for that lone surfer he can arrest. But doesn’t.
Tomorrow I’m off to Eureka, California. As of 2022, Humboldt County ranked fourth out of California’s 58 counties in missing adults per capita. You can prepare by watching Murder Mountain on Netflix. For some reason you can’t share that, so search it yourself.
One last last note. A certain sister questioned whether or not I’m the bigger boat nerd. To that I ask, how many boats have *you* built? (Yes, I understand I’m participating in a sibling war via blog)
Weather: Cool, but partially sunny, giving way to drizzle and then just screw it downpour.
Budget: Food well below, Hotel below
Food: Latte, Donuts, Burrito, Egg Nog
Music: 90’s alt hits playlist, Beastie Boys – Ill communication, Alice in Chains – Dirt, Pearl Jam – Ten
Observations
Really appropriate quote from the Roman philosopher Seneca, but I got it from a lyric in a Semisonic song: “Every new beginning comes from some other beginnings end”
Seaside Oregon is a totally cute little town, tiny streets, felt like the french quarter, but at a smaller scale.
Teenage Dirt-bag by Wheatus is my favorite little lesbian love song.
Cruise control doesn’t just keep you at speed on the highway, it actively maintains your speed. So if you’re going down a mountain pass, it downshifts for you. No brakes needed!
My blank magnetic ring for deactivating my VNS broke. Don’t worry I have two more with me, but they’re not goth black.
The pronto pup was invented in Rockaway Beach
Went through Tillamook, where they make the cheese, saw the creamery. Probably why I missed the lighthouse.
If a many point Elk buck is standing in the road, everyone just stops and waits. Nobody gets out to shoo it, we all just know our place and wait. Much like Bison. After the big guy wandered into the woods, I passed at least half a dozen other Elk just chilling, grazing, sitting or laying on the side of the road. Seeing Elk instead of Bison feels cooler because they’re in the wild, whereas Bison are often on a farm or managed in some way.
Pictures
That’s an invertebrate! (foot for scale)I can’t identify these birds. They don’t look like Pelicans, nor were they flying like them but that’s what Merlin says.My buddy the moose, er, Elk.Lighthouse modelModel LighthouseBeaches are complicatedLonelier Light house
That means do nothing but laundry day. Got up late. Well, late for the tip, eight.
First, I went for coffee.
On the way to the Maritime Museum I saw a boat and decided to chase it down to the bridge, so I could send a picture to my boat nerd sister. (I’m a bigger boat nerd, but she rates.)
And then I doubled back and went to the Maritime Museum. It was incredibly awesome.
Where the Columbia river meets the ocean, there are sandbars which are moving on the regular. This is a map of shipwrecks. It’s hard going from one environment to the other, even before you add in near constant rain, perpetual fog banks here and there, and unpredictable high winds.
The Coast Guard is amazing here. It’s one of the most challenging missions for them, and they rescue over 600 people per year. Crazy. Check out that particular crazy:
I was going to point out that those images weren’t tilted, but that last one is. In the favor of the boat. It’s actually a steeper angle.
Finally, among the multitude of excellent exhibits, they had the required “little model ship room.” When I was little and my Dad and I went to the Maritime Museum in Duluth – every single time we were in Duluth – I stared at the models there for so long. Imagining the real vessel and what that much be like, who the crew was, and what it would be like to work and live on a boat like that. I also wondered at the detail and craftsmanship, liking to build models I was in awe at their scale model builds. And of course I imagined having little action figures and playing with them on the boats.
I did not have the requisite magnet of Oregon, so I went up to the Astoria Column on top of the hill. It’s a column. You can climb up it and get. an amazing view if it’s not raining and/or foggy. So I passed on that. But I did hit the gift shop and get my magnet. I found out they sell balsa glider airplanes in the gift shop, and you’re allowed to throw them from the top and see how far they go. They’re biodegradable, and some have made it as far as the water, which is nowhere near the Column.
And that’s it. I went back to the hotel, made a bunch of reservations for hotels for the coming week, and did a load of laundry. Back to the coast tomorrow for some proper Ocean time. Although I will stop at Starbucks on the way out of town, as I won’t be seeing any chain food for the next many days. Or phone signal. Yay!
I have always been fascinated with MSH. It erupted when I was in grade school and I think it was the first time I understood that nature can whip your ass any time she wants to. My Dad went to Seattle for work about a year after and brought back a pen with real MSH ash in it. I was fascinated.
I made a trip to Portland for a friend’s wedding, and I wasn’t able to go see it up close, but you could catch a glimpse on a sunny day, so I saw it from afar. And I knew I was going to be in the neighborhood, so it ended up being the Site of Interest of the day. Digging around on google maps I understood what was open and what wasn’t. The best viewing spot, the Johnston Ridge Observatory, was closed. Actually the whole road leading up to it. But there was a National Parks (foreboding music here) visitor center, so I figured that would do. Then the shutdown happened and it looked like there would still be a parking lot to see from. So that was the plan.
Something stopped me
Looking for other roads that might get me a view, I found a pass that was closed, as well as a bridge that was closed at the end of it. So that was out. But as I was heading to MSH, a highway sign for the closed road showed itself. And it didn’t just have the road number, but it said Mount Saint Helens. I couldn’t skip it. I just had to see how far access would let me go. Both google and the car GPS units were freaking out, telling me not to go that way, and agreeing on the spots I should turn around. I let them argue. I wasn’t going to stop until something stopped me.
The road was rough but in decent shape, clearly not a lot of traffic came by here. There were a number of spots where a tree had fallen across the road but had been chainsawed into submission. Some of the patched areas were teeth jarringly rough, but few and far between. Slowing down for curves was less about going off the curve and more about being prepared if another car was coming the other way. The road was just more than one lane wide. It was so much fun! Up and down and left and right! But after five miles the signs saying it would be closed were more frequent and looked more confident. But it wasn’t an official chain across the road that stopped me, it was a tree.
Worth it. I turned around and did the same road back and enjoyed every mile as much as the first. Ended up at the original highway and slipped back into my route. It was over an hour to get to MSH proper from there. Big stuff.
On my way in, I stopped at a sediment dam. They had a great explanation on an overlook. It’s a dam to hold back the (duh) sediment, but allow water to get through, and I think they were even trying to let fish who spawn upstream get past it. There was a lot of sediment from the original blast. But what impressed me was the fact that there is still so much still up on the mountain that they pulled the whole “one foot thick highway around the world” statistic type thing.
A big further down the road I stopped at the Hofstadt Creek Bridge viewing area – not for viewing MSH, but for viewing the bridge. It’s a very nice bridge, I must say. It is at the edge of the blast zone. You haven’t even seen MSH yet. It’s still 15 miles away. That’s crazy.
I wasn’t sure if I was seeing MSH though. I knew it was a volcano with a whole side blown off, but i wasn’t sure if it was fully grown over with trees or not. So I was seeing these giant hills around me and trying to suss it out. I was also preparing myself for an overlook showing me it was three green hills in the distance, and that not everything is as impressive as they make it out to be. At that overlook I was thinking about how quiet it was, and how very nature-like the scene was. Given my affinity for the mountains, and now these Washington forests, I was beginning to consider how sad it was that so much nature had been flattened by the eruption. I know it’s the cycles of nature, but still. It was not lost on me that there were people camping in beautiful spots like the area around me, when suddenly an explosion wipes them out. That would be a horrible surprise.
I finally make it down to the areas I was trying to get to, and the National Parks had not only two sections closed, but they even closed the parking lots. So no free view here. Jokes on them though because the Castle Lake viewpoint was open, and that was my backup. The roads around the National Park were extensive. They looked like they were built for heavy traffic and vacationers. This being the shoulder armpit season, nobody would have been here anyway, but I had to wonder how busy did it still get? The eruption was 40 years ago. I remember it as a kid, but none of the kids today knew it that way.
I head back to the Castle Lake viewpoint and the view was phenomenal. And MSH was not a few green hills. It is still a mountain to be in awe of. It was covered in snow, and the clouds seemed to have to slide around the mountain, it was that big. I took pictures, but honestly I was frustrated at the inability of a picture to capture the majesty of it all. Not just the mountain, but the valleys around me, and the sheer scale of it all. Once again, nature was so overwhelmingly impressive that it made me want to throw up. In a good way.
I would like to thank the Forestry Service for such a wonderful viewpoint, and keeping it open for me and the other six people who were in the area today. Not that I saw any of the others, they were just in the area. I was blissfully alone in my experience. Also, I use a recorder to record notes for later, and I just noticed that I was whispering any time I was in nature. Respect.
The Ocean
As I entered Astoria, I saw a sign indicating I was entering a tsunami danger zone. Nice! After checking into my hotel, I headed out to the closest beach on the Pacific side. After getting lost once I found the right road, and it took me straight to the beach. Like, directly to the beach. Car on the beach, I walked straight for the water. It was a bit big to get my feet wet, but I got to spend a while watching the waves. They were violent waves breaking over one another, though they we much smaller by the time they hit the beach. The waves came in over a 50 foot distance, in that some came short, and others came very far onto the beach. Took some pictures, headed back for dinner and relaxation. Not used to the time yet, so I’ve been surprised by how early it is all day.
Tomorrow is a zero day, so no driving and lots of resting. Now that I’ve gotten to the ocean, who knows where I’ll end up next..
Deets
License Plates: N/A
States: WA, OR
Departed: 7:48 am PST, 44 degrees
Original ETA 10:38am PST
Arrival: 1:13 pm PST
Weather: Ranged from foggy to sunny to raining
Budget: Food below, Hotel below
Food: Latte and Blueberry Muffin, Pork Tamales with rice
Music:Prince – Sign O the Times, Billy Joel – Glass Houses, Coldplay – Viva La Vida, Linkin Park – Meteora, Black Eyed Peas – Elephunk, Moon Ate the Dark – Moon Ate the Dark, Metallica – And Justice for All
Observations
I found a calm peace in the mountains
Going through fog banks it strikes me how dark it gets in there, and then you come out into the sun
Everyone goes the speed limit in Washington. And then I got passed by a couple cars going well over. They were both Oregon plates, heading to Portland. Like Minneapolis. Liberal cities drive fast.
Passing the lumber plants and it smells like Thunder Bay. Unpleasantly pleasant
I saw a small herd of elk last night going to dinner, which means I’ve seen more elk than bison on this trip
Pictures
Sediment DamHofstadt Creek BridgeMount Saint HelensView from my hotel room
I came out of the Idaho mountains and crossed the great plains of Washington. It was like a mashup of everything I’d seen so far. Rolling hills (SD), but they’re covered in trees (WY). Significant hills (MT) and mountains (ID) in the distance, and lakes (MN) here and there.
Coming out of Yakima I headed west on 12 into the White Pass. There was a sign listing that pass and another one, and the other was closed. Made my trip planning skills shudder to think how easily they close and less easily open. It had just rained, so the roads were wet. No problem there, except the spray. The car in front of you kicked it up unless you followed waaaay back, and oncoming traffic hit you with it as well. I made a risky pass overcoming an RV because it was like following a shower, and I wasn’t going to do that all the way over the pass.
Got to go through a mountain tunnel, which was cool. Just the one. And I’ve seen the whole “falling rocks” warning signs before, but never with rocks scattered across the roadway. Nothing bigger than a softball, but that still wouldn’t be a great thing to hit.
We followed the Tieton river for a long time, some nice curves here and there. I saw a Larch leaning out like it was perpendicular to the mountain, and noted the other trees were being very judgey. Also crossed the Continental Divide, but didn’t see the river change direction or anything. Also, did you know that if you trailer a boat across the Continental Divide, it has to be inspected ASAP on the other side?
Now for the fun part!
The Fun Part
I had been driving for many hours. While most of it was on cruise control, it was still a lot of driving. My right leg tends to get painfully tired at the end of the day. Unfortunately, that was exactly when the driving became much more active. As we rose above the river and the road stuck to the mountain, the curves became much sharper. So now I’m driving with my sad and tired leg, and it’s all getting much more complicated. No more cruise control. Also, it started raining.
Don’t let the movie fool you – it was huge and scary!
Coming around a curve and then curving back the other way, I had great visibility on a wall of rock and dirt. It was nice to have that view, so I could see the slide happen clearly, and in realtime accelerated. It was not a giant cliff landslide horrible thing. But it was rocks and dirt about the size of my car, and watching it slide down the hill at the car in front of me was a very constricting moment. They must have been terrified, as they were so much closer, but I was right behind them and instinctively ducked as I passed by. The slide was caught by a berm of rock squares put up for just this kind of thing, but enough of the rock made it to the road, and the dust still hung in the air. My bigger concern was that more of the mountain was about to come crashing down on me. Not to be.
That was very exciting, and I had no idea that “See a slide right up ahead of you” was on my life bucket list. Well, check that box! But it was intimidating. I don’t know about frightening, but a lot of thoughts went through my head in those 10 seconds or so. And it gave me a renewed respect for the situation you are in when going over mountain passes. Not just things falling on you. It wasn’t an old highway, but it wasn’t a new one. However, whenever you went over a particularly smooth section of blacktop, or a really ground up section, you were crossing over a place where there was a significant slide, and it took out the road. That’s scary enough, but there are so many of them. You don’t go far without seeing one. So now you worry about being crushed, or sliding off the mountain. I have one more serious pass in my future, and it’s recently been closed and re-opened. If it’s still open, I will approach that one with great respect. If it’s not, I’ll have to drive around that range and back up a bit. Oof.
Gravity Fails
Earlier in the day I had decided on an alternate route for the day, getting off the interstate onto the state highway. It was a nice change and didn’t add much time. That is, until I looked for interesting stops in the area. There was one that was quite a bit out of the way, but I realized if I skipped it I would regret it forever. It was a gravity defying hill! You might have heard of these. Put your car in neutral at the bottom of a hill and it was magically start to roll – uphill! I’m a big believer in the laws of nature, so I didn’t think this would actually be the case. But I wanted to try.
First of all, getting there was tricky. When I took the first turn I swear I heard my GPS say “What? Wait, What?” and then for a long time the argument (her side only) raged on demanding that I “make a U turn at the nearest safe location.” Except I wasn’t making any damn U turns. I was on a mission! The roads were one and a half lane blacktop and just kept getting smaller and smaller. Google maps told me the speed limit was 35, but there were no police within miles. I could see that far.
I finally arrived, passing the spot on google maps for the starting line, then slowly crawling along looking for the line. Worried all the way I’d been had, and there was no way to tell where to start. Also, there was a very sketch barn next to the road. This was all a ploy to lure in idiot tourists and take their stuff and then kill them. Finally found the line, turned around, and set up. Now, I had come down a bit of a hill from the barn. And I was watching to see if I’d be going down a hill from the start, but it all looked flat.
So I place the car into neutral, and it starts rolling. Not some tiny slow roll building into something more, but an actual “ha ha you think you’re going down a hill” roll. I looked to my side and it really looked like we were going uphill. And the hill down from the barn? Actually rolled up that hill. Gravity is a lie! About halfway up that hill I rolled to a halt. On my way back to the start again I stopped halfway and used the spirit level app on my phone to see how things leaned. It was almost perfectly flat, with a little bit nodding to being on a downhill. Getting back to the starting point felt even more so.
I break it down as being an almost imperceptible slope from the starting line, but enough that it gets you going. Then there was a clear flat area that your momentum would get you across, and finally you’d get halfway up the hill to the barn before Mother Gravity stepped in and spanked you with her wooden spoon.
The thing is, you really feel like the impossible is happening. It’s very convincing. Looking out the window looked like going uphill. That strong rolling start was enough to really surprise you and make you buy into the claim. If you ever get the chance, try one of these, it’s a lot of fun. Even if it’s all trickery.
And that is what I call a proper quality side quest. Totally worth the two hours it added. Suck it, geographical center of the nation!
Dad is my copilot, or, Because sometimes you find yourself crying in a motel in Idaho, surrounded by mountains and fog, happy to be wandering the country with your father’s ghost.
I wrote about having this feeling that I had companions. Sometimes friends, sometimes family, sometime … who knows what? Well, this morning I was going to hit the road bright and early at 7:30, but didn’t make it til 8. Because I got this collection of super long texts from my sister. She had been thinking about me and my trip, and also thinking about November. We have lost more than our fair share of people (and a dog!) in November. All by coincidence, or possibly some sort of fate. One of those people was my Dad. Her thoughts on Dad as my companion (and some other thoughts) had me crying in that retro motel in the middle of the mountains, but it was happy and sad tears.
Dad and I have a lot in common. We can both spin a yarn, we enjoy Duluth in the rain more than a beautiful day, we play the same instrument, we love driving, we both had scooters, we both loved our kids more than we ever knew we could. And we loved road trips. When I was in high school we once drove around Lake Superior on a three day weekend. That trip is usually best done in a week. But we just tore through the miles, but still managed to stop and look at boats or eat a lunch on a picnic table in a wayside park. Even if I would have preferred that be McDonalds. I did most of the driving, as I was a newly licensed driver, but there wasn’t much left to learn. The car is an extension of myself. At one point my oldest daughter asked my wife if she could teach her how to make turns like me and her younger sister did. For some people it’s a flow state of instinct, for others it’s learned and not always loved. (Though to her credit her first trip of any substance was a drive halfway across the country in a questionable car and no money. She did just fine.)
We also wet to Duluth countless times, and it seemed to rain every single one of them. But that’s what Duluth really felt like to us, and it’s spread to other places too. So today I was driving through stereotypical Washington weather – 49 degrees just cold enough to need a couple layers of flannel but not cold enough for a coat, gray, drizzling enough that you need the wipers but not really enough to get you wet right away. Cloudy but with the occasional beam of sunlight shining right when you’re facing it and it blasts your vision. And it seemed so much like the weather Dad and I enjoyed not enjoying, and sure, lets just drive 350 miles in one day. That’s reasonable. And I don’t know if it was my sister who planted the idea, or that she clarified it in my mind, but Dad was around today on my drive, and man would he have loved it!
Deets
License Plates: UT, NV
States: ID, WA
Departed: 8:00 am PDT, 42 degrees
Original ETA 1:26pm PDT
Arrival: 3:03 pm PDT
Longest distance between turns: 245 miles
Weather: Everything. Sun, drizzle, downpour, clouds, clear, windy, calm, 70 degrees, 20something degrees. Often a combo of many of those.
Budget: Food below, Hotel below
Food: “Double Dog” (won’t be doing that again), Caesar Salad (tired of burgers)
Music: Joy Division – Unknown Pleasures, PIL – Happy?, Fatboy Slim – Better living through chemistry, Best of Debussy, Lorde – Pure Heroine, Siouxsie and the Banshees – Through the Looking Glass
Observations
I loved Wallace, ID. It’s now on my top ten list of cities I’d love to live in.
As I left I stopped at the drive-thru (that’s all it is) at 1910 coffee in Wallace. Got a 24oz Latte and a large orange juice and the total was $7. Can’t believe it. Try that at Starbucks!
Saw seagulls. Sailors used to see seagulls as a sign of hope after countless days or weeks of nothing but ocean. I felt something similar.
More tumbleweed. Hit one with my car, didn’t do anything to the car. I did see one later that was big enough it would have caused some damage. Also saw a car with a large tumbleweed lodged in its grill. Looked like someone with some lettuce stuck in their teeth.
Crossed a bridge that had another airport-quality windsock on it.
I’ve seen so few Minnesota license plates, and only one other MINI this whole trip.
I see a lot of trucks with trailers with Indiana license plates. Is that a tax thing or just a crazy coincidence?
I passed a very large penitentiary, but there were no “do not pick up hitchhikers” signs. I guess they just think if the prisoner can escape that far, good luck!
There have been parts of Washington that are so windy it makes me wonder how they can tell if someone is swerving because they’re drunk or just being buffeted by the wind. And if you drove drunk in the wind, might they both cancel each other out and get you driving in a straight line?
Not to be obsessed, but Washington has had the least variety of license plates yet. Besides the odd Oregon or Idaho plate, it’s just all Washington. I went into a rest stop, which is usually great plate hunting ground, and they were all WA. All!
Pictures
Washington StateMiddle southern Washington State, wine country.Middle southern Washington State, wine country.The image doesn’t capture how enormous the sky wasA view through pickups of the lodge I’m staying in tonight. Not quite nestled in mountains, but still up in the hills.
