Arrived in Portland
After three relatively easy days of driving I made it here to PDX. I'm moved in (more or less----well, more like less) to Brian's house in West Linn already, the Uhaul is set to be returned tomorrow.
The first day of driving I followed Highway 89 out of Flagstaff, through Page and north into Utah. I really enjoyed the scenery---it was especially vibrant with the stark lighting of monsoon season, bright beams coming through slots in the clouds, torrential downpours visible in the distance. I was very sleepy but only stopped for a brief nap and a couple of yoga practices whenever I could pull out by the river. There was so much water! The kitten was afraid of the river. My sleeping spot was a campground about 100 miles from SLC, under the brightly lit twin towers of another Mormon temple.
I called a few people because I have free minutes on weekends and Day 1 was a Sunday. It was good to touch base with old friends, and get their advice. My favorite tidbit was from Tom Moder, who said "You've got to take the love as it comes". He's a wise friend.
Day two saw me cruising through Salt Lake City at 10:00 am. I slept hard and woke late, and decided to practice in the morning before I started driving, so as to miss rush hour in the city. My plan was good. I made it to Boise pretty early and met up with Kirsten. She gave me a tour of her 1922 house, and then we walked downtown for a dinner (I am going to try to make that orange chili sauce that was on my chicken).
Day three was today. I woke at very first light and climbed in the driver's seat, and was clear of Boise by 7am. I was cruising west on I-84 past the Oregon state line, when suddenly there were no more gas stations and I realized I hadn't gassed up yet. I just kept driving very gently for a good many more miles through mountains that were covered in yellow grass before I found a mom & pop gas station that was open. Phew.
Once on interstate highways people started tailgating me, and hanging out in the adjacent lane, long enough to read my truck. The back of my truck is covered in stickers. In the past some people have honked, waved or smiled and otherwise expressed their approval of my sentiments. But in all of this long drive not one person looked approving. Most people would study the back of the truck, and then be staring straight ahead as the passed me in the cab. I wonder if they are afraid. Or if they see the new Ron Paul stickers and write me off as a wacko. Or if they write me off as a wacko based on having stickers at all? The way I see it, stickers are my legal way of publicly promoting my politics and religion.
There was something about the Oregon state line that brought it all home to me. The people I am leaving behind. The uncertainty that I am going into. I started to cry. I called Suzanne a couple of times and confessed some of what I am feeling. My head is spinning. I am tired. But I am good. I was ready for this change and at last it is here.
G'nite.
The first day of driving I followed Highway 89 out of Flagstaff, through Page and north into Utah. I really enjoyed the scenery---it was especially vibrant with the stark lighting of monsoon season, bright beams coming through slots in the clouds, torrential downpours visible in the distance. I was very sleepy but only stopped for a brief nap and a couple of yoga practices whenever I could pull out by the river. There was so much water! The kitten was afraid of the river. My sleeping spot was a campground about 100 miles from SLC, under the brightly lit twin towers of another Mormon temple.
I called a few people because I have free minutes on weekends and Day 1 was a Sunday. It was good to touch base with old friends, and get their advice. My favorite tidbit was from Tom Moder, who said "You've got to take the love as it comes". He's a wise friend.
Day two saw me cruising through Salt Lake City at 10:00 am. I slept hard and woke late, and decided to practice in the morning before I started driving, so as to miss rush hour in the city. My plan was good. I made it to Boise pretty early and met up with Kirsten. She gave me a tour of her 1922 house, and then we walked downtown for a dinner (I am going to try to make that orange chili sauce that was on my chicken).
Day three was today. I woke at very first light and climbed in the driver's seat, and was clear of Boise by 7am. I was cruising west on I-84 past the Oregon state line, when suddenly there were no more gas stations and I realized I hadn't gassed up yet. I just kept driving very gently for a good many more miles through mountains that were covered in yellow grass before I found a mom & pop gas station that was open. Phew.
Once on interstate highways people started tailgating me, and hanging out in the adjacent lane, long enough to read my truck. The back of my truck is covered in stickers. In the past some people have honked, waved or smiled and otherwise expressed their approval of my sentiments. But in all of this long drive not one person looked approving. Most people would study the back of the truck, and then be staring straight ahead as the passed me in the cab. I wonder if they are afraid. Or if they see the new Ron Paul stickers and write me off as a wacko. Or if they write me off as a wacko based on having stickers at all? The way I see it, stickers are my legal way of publicly promoting my politics and religion.
There was something about the Oregon state line that brought it all home to me. The people I am leaving behind. The uncertainty that I am going into. I started to cry. I called Suzanne a couple of times and confessed some of what I am feeling. My head is spinning. I am tired. But I am good. I was ready for this change and at last it is here.
G'nite.