Road Trip, Part I: AZ to OR
We picked up the Toyota Scion from the F Family in North Phx Wednesday night. The car is modest in size but packs a surprising punch in pick up for a 4-cylinder. As a stick, I thoroughly enjoyed driving it though I felt that much of the time I was driving a toy in a BIG like movie. After spending 25 hours or so in it to travel 1500 miles, I sort of miss the little fella.
Bill rigged up the GPS which turned out to be the most critical & enjoyable tool for the trip, next to the Blackberry. I left shortly after 6am Thursday morning and arrived in Riverside at about 1130. Driving through Arizona was breathtaking - it really humbles me to call this great place home.
California was equally as lovely but as I saw so much more of it than AZ, I was intrigued at the variety of topographical features dotting my way. If I didn’t know better I would swear I saw the exact location of where the Teletubbies “live.” The land seemed to rise in uneven but glorious mounds and I felt each was alive and larger than life. I felt like I was in Lilliput of the Gulliver’s Travels story and that his heaving body was lying all around me. The 60 over to Riverside was very unique - all twisty and curvy between green mounds of land on both sides. I felt I had an out-of-US-body experience for a few moments, arriving perhaps in a place where Celtic tales first were told. It was short-lived but memorable.
After Riverside, I ran into cows. The sight of what seemed like millions of them was absurd and though the stench was hardly funny, I couldn’t keep from laughing at how insane the sea of them seemed to be. I felt out of my element, being so outnumbered. Despite being familiar with cows, the number of them grouped in one place was overwhelming and actually stressed me out a little. I wondered about them being slaughtered and felt terribly guilty for the amazing burger I’d heartily consumed a few hours earlier. But later the smell of skunk struck me as oddly comforting and I fell out of my guilt.
I brought music but found that books on CD were a pretty entertaining way to pass the hours, next to taking pictures with one hand. I went to the library at the last minute and the pickings were slim. I listened to a crappy love story by Nicholas Sparks called _A Bend in the Road_ which made me cry because a young mom dies and I thought a dog was gonna get shot but overall it was pretty lame. I also listened to Nora Ephron’s _I Feel Bad About my Neck_ which was thoroughly enjoyable even though I may not be its target audience. I skipped around to giggle at parts of _Eats, Shoots and Leaves_ but grew too bored of British accents to finish it.
I developed a headache and thought it must simply be the event of driving longer than usual in unfamiliar terrain. As the sun set, I realized though that it was the heat and brightness beating on me that caused my brain to ache. In the west, there’s no escaping the sun which seems to offer a particularly long day before it seems willing to finally set. I passed Weed, CA and I laughed - wondering what people do there when they’re bored.
Oregon was incredibly inspiring with its bright green hills and crisp cool air. I could see myself buying a cow, some chickens and a plot of land and staying put forever in what seemed like the forgotten patch of Promised Land. My only reservation would be getting gas there. After I spent the night in Ashland (where the oldest man in Holiday Inn history - Walter - took 45 minutes to check me in at midnight, hunting and pecking my name & address into the computer), I fueled up in the morning. When I opened my car door, a young bearded man was leaning on the car and said “What can I do for you?” I looked up for the “self” sign and said “I can’t pump this myself?” I grilled him when he told me no and learned that it was state law (along with NJ) to have attendants pump the gas. I still didn’t believe it so I took my card in to be sure. Then I was very anxious about whether I should tip and decided I shouldn’t. My friend told me that since Portland is so close to the WA border, it’s hard to remember that the law is different there. He said the first time he fueled up across state lines, he sat in his car, waiting and waiting…
Bill rigged up the GPS which turned out to be the most critical & enjoyable tool for the trip, next to the Blackberry. I left shortly after 6am Thursday morning and arrived in Riverside at about 1130. Driving through Arizona was breathtaking - it really humbles me to call this great place home.
California was equally as lovely but as I saw so much more of it than AZ, I was intrigued at the variety of topographical features dotting my way. If I didn’t know better I would swear I saw the exact location of where the Teletubbies “live.” The land seemed to rise in uneven but glorious mounds and I felt each was alive and larger than life. I felt like I was in Lilliput of the Gulliver’s Travels story and that his heaving body was lying all around me. The 60 over to Riverside was very unique - all twisty and curvy between green mounds of land on both sides. I felt I had an out-of-US-body experience for a few moments, arriving perhaps in a place where Celtic tales first were told. It was short-lived but memorable.
After Riverside, I ran into cows. The sight of what seemed like millions of them was absurd and though the stench was hardly funny, I couldn’t keep from laughing at how insane the sea of them seemed to be. I felt out of my element, being so outnumbered. Despite being familiar with cows, the number of them grouped in one place was overwhelming and actually stressed me out a little. I wondered about them being slaughtered and felt terribly guilty for the amazing burger I’d heartily consumed a few hours earlier. But later the smell of skunk struck me as oddly comforting and I fell out of my guilt.
I brought music but found that books on CD were a pretty entertaining way to pass the hours, next to taking pictures with one hand. I went to the library at the last minute and the pickings were slim. I listened to a crappy love story by Nicholas Sparks called _A Bend in the Road_ which made me cry because a young mom dies and I thought a dog was gonna get shot but overall it was pretty lame. I also listened to Nora Ephron’s _I Feel Bad About my Neck_ which was thoroughly enjoyable even though I may not be its target audience. I skipped around to giggle at parts of _Eats, Shoots and Leaves_ but grew too bored of British accents to finish it.
I developed a headache and thought it must simply be the event of driving longer than usual in unfamiliar terrain. As the sun set, I realized though that it was the heat and brightness beating on me that caused my brain to ache. In the west, there’s no escaping the sun which seems to offer a particularly long day before it seems willing to finally set. I passed Weed, CA and I laughed - wondering what people do there when they’re bored.
Oregon was incredibly inspiring with its bright green hills and crisp cool air. I could see myself buying a cow, some chickens and a plot of land and staying put forever in what seemed like the forgotten patch of Promised Land. My only reservation would be getting gas there. After I spent the night in Ashland (where the oldest man in Holiday Inn history - Walter - took 45 minutes to check me in at midnight, hunting and pecking my name & address into the computer), I fueled up in the morning. When I opened my car door, a young bearded man was leaning on the car and said “What can I do for you?” I looked up for the “self” sign and said “I can’t pump this myself?” I grilled him when he told me no and learned that it was state law (along with NJ) to have attendants pump the gas. I still didn’t believe it so I took my card in to be sure. Then I was very anxious about whether I should tip and decided I shouldn’t. My friend told me that since Portland is so close to the WA border, it’s hard to remember that the law is different there. He said the first time he fueled up across state lines, he sat in his car, waiting and waiting…