Vision Quest.
Vision Quest.
I'm sorry for not writing or posting after the end of the vacation.
I've had a few issues between then and now. I'll get into them later.
One of the points of my last vacation was to find my vision or purpose.
I didn't find it until the last evening of the roadtrip, but I did
find it. It turns out it was in the middle of nowhere, Southwest Nevada.
It was late Friday, and I'd just been asked to leave Hoover Dam.
The normal way to the I-15 and home would be to go back to Las Vegas,
brave the crowds and leave that way. However, since it was a
Friday evening, and a NASCAR weekend, and the weekend of the
selection for March Madness, I figured there would be tens of thousands
of tourists in Vegas, with about 80% unable to drive properly.
It was not something I looked forward to going through, so I went to
the map.
It turns out there's another way to I-15, go south from Boulder City
on US 95, turn right in Searchlight, go onto the 164, which eventually
crosses the state line and enters into I-15. This is a AAA map,
and the road looked simple and direct, so I decided to give it a shot.
The first part of the trip was not an issue, sharing a four lane
divided highway with a few other cars and trucks. Nothing special.
However, it was when I went onto 164 that things changes.
164 is a very straight, flat, well-maintained road. It is also
very dark. There are no other lights, cars, or houses for miles.
I tried an experiment to shut off my headlights; I could only
last for two seconds before switching them back on. Being totally
surrounded by nothing is an extremely disconcerting feeling.
So, here I am in the middle of nowhere; it's about 10pm, there
is no nothing save for the pavement, the yellow line, and just
fields of brush. I pull over at some intersection, and get out.
I'm too chicken to turn off all the lights, but I dim it down to the parking lights,
I look up; it's pretty nice and starry actually.
The fact that there's no light means that even some of the dimmer
stars can be easily seen. I turn around, I can see a large white
glow in the north, surrounded by a faint orange glow; that's Las Vegas.
There is a slightly brighter vertical beam of light; that's the Luxor.
I keep turning around and looking up; it's way too dark for a picture,
but there are at least 10 thousand stars that I can pick out from
the southern sky. And to the north is the familiar glow of civilization.
Around this time, someone is supposed to come up with something, like
"I am amazed by the majesty of the heavens" or 'I feel like such an
insignificant speck of dust in the grand scheme of the universe'.
But my brain didn't come up with a cliche. It was more direct.
"This is cool. And very few people will ever see it."
Yes, I know it's a horrible title, and not really that profound.
But I understand that this is why I enjoy
random things like that: because they're fun. And I also know
that few people will ever try out the same experiences.
Maybe I like story telling about "what I did today". Or maybe there's
another reason why I like trying out different things for fun.
But those two sentences rang true to me, and almost inspires
me to go out and try other things.
One day I'll probably come up with something more succinct, but,
hey, improvisation is like that sometimes.
I'll try out more things. We'll see what we can come up with.
I'm sorry for not writing or posting after the end of the vacation.
I've had a few issues between then and now. I'll get into them later.
One of the points of my last vacation was to find my vision or purpose.
I didn't find it until the last evening of the roadtrip, but I did
find it. It turns out it was in the middle of nowhere, Southwest Nevada.
It was late Friday, and I'd just been asked to leave Hoover Dam.
The normal way to the I-15 and home would be to go back to Las Vegas,
brave the crowds and leave that way. However, since it was a
Friday evening, and a NASCAR weekend, and the weekend of the
selection for March Madness, I figured there would be tens of thousands
of tourists in Vegas, with about 80% unable to drive properly.
It was not something I looked forward to going through, so I went to
the map.
It turns out there's another way to I-15, go south from Boulder City
on US 95, turn right in Searchlight, go onto the 164, which eventually
crosses the state line and enters into I-15. This is a AAA map,
and the road looked simple and direct, so I decided to give it a shot.
The first part of the trip was not an issue, sharing a four lane
divided highway with a few other cars and trucks. Nothing special.
However, it was when I went onto 164 that things changes.
164 is a very straight, flat, well-maintained road. It is also
very dark. There are no other lights, cars, or houses for miles.
I tried an experiment to shut off my headlights; I could only
last for two seconds before switching them back on. Being totally
surrounded by nothing is an extremely disconcerting feeling.
So, here I am in the middle of nowhere; it's about 10pm, there
is no nothing save for the pavement, the yellow line, and just
fields of brush. I pull over at some intersection, and get out.
I'm too chicken to turn off all the lights, but I dim it down to the parking lights,
I look up; it's pretty nice and starry actually.
The fact that there's no light means that even some of the dimmer
stars can be easily seen. I turn around, I can see a large white
glow in the north, surrounded by a faint orange glow; that's Las Vegas.
There is a slightly brighter vertical beam of light; that's the Luxor.
I keep turning around and looking up; it's way too dark for a picture,
but there are at least 10 thousand stars that I can pick out from
the southern sky. And to the north is the familiar glow of civilization.
Around this time, someone is supposed to come up with something, like
"I am amazed by the majesty of the heavens" or 'I feel like such an
insignificant speck of dust in the grand scheme of the universe'.
But my brain didn't come up with a cliche. It was more direct.
"This is cool. And very few people will ever see it."
Yes, I know it's a horrible title, and not really that profound.
But I understand that this is why I enjoy
random things like that: because they're fun. And I also know
that few people will ever try out the same experiences.
Maybe I like story telling about "what I did today". Or maybe there's
another reason why I like trying out different things for fun.
But those two sentences rang true to me, and almost inspires
me to go out and try other things.
One day I'll probably come up with something more succinct, but,
hey, improvisation is like that sometimes.
I'll try out more things. We'll see what we can come up with.