The Final Road Entry: Homeward Bound
Well, it's done. I'm officially home. Last night, during Day 54 (Monday November 14th) of my cross-country road trip, I arrived at the family home near Portland, Oregon. I'm sad that I didn't get to make another entry between when I was in Albuquerque and now, but that's how it goes. Hard to find free internet access out there in the world. I've got a lot of catching up to do! I'll start by making a LJ cut!
There's the second half of Leg 11. As I explained in the last entry, Leg 11 was only half completed when I arrived in Albuquerque. After leaving that town with a name I hate spelling, it took a day to get to the Grand Canyon! Boy was it worth it!
Getting to the eastern lookout at sunset was unreal. That's really the canyon, guys. That's no painting, that was as it happened. It was unreal. I spent the night at this tiny little mom and pop hotel just outside the park and got up early to see the rest of the canyon the next day. Problem was, the rain and snow and wind and fog showed up too. I got to see what I wanted to see in time before things got ugly, but it ruined my planned two-full-day outing. I left the canyon, but I shall one day return and do everything I didn't get a chance to see. The sunset photos alone made it worth the trip anyway!
On to Vegas! Now, I got there and I learned that finding a hotel room, even though Vegas has millions, is impossible unless you had a prior reservation. Just showing up in Vegas and expecting there to be cheap same-day vacancy is folly. So, if any of you are ever going to Vegas soon and just want to wing it, don't. Get a reservation now. Don't wait. I could have gotten a $20 room had I had the foresight to have made a reservation when I was in the city whose name I hate spelling. Instead, I ended up getting a $100 room. Ouch. But it was a fantastic room! Look:
Yea, it was actually cheaper than their usual rooms. Pretty rad. Vegas itself is a scuzzy place. By far the dirtiest and darkest place I've been the whole trip. I felt the least safe there too. Vegas is a party town, but the party is ugly. Beautiful casinos contrast with the drunk and aimless wild youth of the streets. I can't imagine bringing children here for any reason. There is nothing redeeming about the town. City of sin is absolutely correct.
Did I gamble anything? Yes. $2. Did I win anything? Yes. $0.75. Woo. I can now retire.
After Vegas, it was a desert drive to LA. Now, I've been to LA before and, with my LA friends out of town for the month, I didn't really care to bother stopping. I went through the city only so I could say that I did on my big trip. I got no photos because I was too busy trying not to crash into other crazy drivers. I made it to Fresno that night on my way to San Francisco.
The next day, I made a geek pilgrimage.
Some of you may recognize this building as the legendary One Infinite Loop, corporate headquarters of Apple Computer, and hail me for I have visited it. The rest of you will point at me and say, "GEEK!" For those who care, the Apple campus is tiny. Much less spectacular than I expected. I mean, a freeway is on one side. There are no giant walls of trees or anything like the Nike campus here in Portland. I mean... it looks like any other corporate park. I loved the humbleness of it all.
Then came San Francisco!
I drove the streets, conquered the hills, cranked down the curvaceous Lombard and Hyde and finally fulfilled a personal driving dream: Drive the Golden Gate. After that, it was time to come home.
Wow, that's a vertical image if I ever saw one. Drove over the Golden Gate, which was wonderful, then hopped back on Interstate 5 northbound all the way back to Oregon after a night in Yreka, California. It was this tiny, humble little mountain town. Things were getting cold, too. I'd been in the warmer half of the country for so long that I'd forgotten what cold is like. I got back into Oregon and got to the Pacific Ocean coast just in time for sunset:
I collected my very last sand-from-around-the-country sample and stood there for a moment just pondering life and the whole trip and everything. I drove up to Astoria, Oregon (Where Oregon's claim to fame is, lots of movies get filmed there), and by the time I left the sun was gone and it was quite dark. I drove the final 100 miles back to my home near Portland, where the whole trip began. I haven't had time to sit down and really iron out all the statistics from the trip (Even though I've already been officially home for more than 24 hours) but I'm sure in the coming days, I'll spill out all kinds of data in my journal here.
Jaci just called and asked me if I had come to any conclusions or epiphanies about the trip. Truth is, I don't think the road or America changed me much in the two months I was gone. I'm still the same person. I know more about my own capabilities and what makes home better than anywhere in the country, but do I know more about what I want to do with my life? Nope. When it's all said and done, it almost feels like I got away for two months and now I'm back with all my old problems and anxiety. I saw the country and now I'm home- Back to the grind. Jaci and I came up with the most incredibly accurate analogy/metaphor: The trip, on the whole, was like taste-testing thirty different ice cream flavors one teaspoon at a time- Not enough to really decide if I liked any one flavor or not and certainly not enough time in between to clear my palate. Was the trip imperfect? Of course. But was it one hell of a good time? Yes!
I've discovered I'm a happier person all the sudden. Having been on the trip, seeing all the things I've seen, all the people I've met and all the relatives I've seen for the first time in years, I've learned volumes about where I came from and the things that tie us all together. I've seen the Grand Canyon at sunset, I've talked to people affected by both 9/11 and Hurricane Katrina, I've eaten a sourdough bowl of clam chowder in San Francisco, walked the mall and read the words of Lincoln in DC, I drove my car on beaches on both ocean coastlines and a whole lot of other things. But, even though I've done all these things and accomplished so much all the sudden, what's more important for me was the journey itself. The alone time. The lost hours just thinking and enjoying being alone and on my own. Maybe I did learn something about myself and everything but I can't comprehend it yet.
Arriving home and showing everyone all my collections of trinkets from the road and sharing the stories and showing the photos has been wonderfully exciting. Sharing my experiences with everyone may be, surprisingly, the most rewarding thing I've done the whole trip. So many people expressed their childlike desire to tag along with me and live life on the road as I did. I obviously couldn't take anyone with me but the photos and the stories and all my mementos should give anyone a sense of what it was like and for that I feel better about not being able to take anyone. Maybe one day you all will take your own trip and write your own stories and then I'll be the jealous one. I look forward to that day, actually. I want to hear your stories about how you got stuck in the snow or touched the Statue of Liberty or how you finally saw the Atlantic Ocean for the first time and couldn't believe the colors.
To sum up, I spent the last two months out there seeing my country by road. I learned a lot about this country, but what's most important is I've begun the lifelong journey of learning who I am. And that may be a much bigger and more challenging trip than anything you'll find out on the road.
There's the second half of Leg 11. As I explained in the last entry, Leg 11 was only half completed when I arrived in Albuquerque. After leaving that town with a name I hate spelling, it took a day to get to the Grand Canyon! Boy was it worth it!
Getting to the eastern lookout at sunset was unreal. That's really the canyon, guys. That's no painting, that was as it happened. It was unreal. I spent the night at this tiny little mom and pop hotel just outside the park and got up early to see the rest of the canyon the next day. Problem was, the rain and snow and wind and fog showed up too. I got to see what I wanted to see in time before things got ugly, but it ruined my planned two-full-day outing. I left the canyon, but I shall one day return and do everything I didn't get a chance to see. The sunset photos alone made it worth the trip anyway!
On to Vegas! Now, I got there and I learned that finding a hotel room, even though Vegas has millions, is impossible unless you had a prior reservation. Just showing up in Vegas and expecting there to be cheap same-day vacancy is folly. So, if any of you are ever going to Vegas soon and just want to wing it, don't. Get a reservation now. Don't wait. I could have gotten a $20 room had I had the foresight to have made a reservation when I was in the city whose name I hate spelling. Instead, I ended up getting a $100 room. Ouch. But it was a fantastic room! Look:
Yea, it was actually cheaper than their usual rooms. Pretty rad. Vegas itself is a scuzzy place. By far the dirtiest and darkest place I've been the whole trip. I felt the least safe there too. Vegas is a party town, but the party is ugly. Beautiful casinos contrast with the drunk and aimless wild youth of the streets. I can't imagine bringing children here for any reason. There is nothing redeeming about the town. City of sin is absolutely correct.
Did I gamble anything? Yes. $2. Did I win anything? Yes. $0.75. Woo. I can now retire.
After Vegas, it was a desert drive to LA. Now, I've been to LA before and, with my LA friends out of town for the month, I didn't really care to bother stopping. I went through the city only so I could say that I did on my big trip. I got no photos because I was too busy trying not to crash into other crazy drivers. I made it to Fresno that night on my way to San Francisco.
The next day, I made a geek pilgrimage.
Some of you may recognize this building as the legendary One Infinite Loop, corporate headquarters of Apple Computer, and hail me for I have visited it. The rest of you will point at me and say, "GEEK!" For those who care, the Apple campus is tiny. Much less spectacular than I expected. I mean, a freeway is on one side. There are no giant walls of trees or anything like the Nike campus here in Portland. I mean... it looks like any other corporate park. I loved the humbleness of it all.
Then came San Francisco!
I drove the streets, conquered the hills, cranked down the curvaceous Lombard and Hyde and finally fulfilled a personal driving dream: Drive the Golden Gate. After that, it was time to come home.
Wow, that's a vertical image if I ever saw one. Drove over the Golden Gate, which was wonderful, then hopped back on Interstate 5 northbound all the way back to Oregon after a night in Yreka, California. It was this tiny, humble little mountain town. Things were getting cold, too. I'd been in the warmer half of the country for so long that I'd forgotten what cold is like. I got back into Oregon and got to the Pacific Ocean coast just in time for sunset:
I collected my very last sand-from-around-the-country sample and stood there for a moment just pondering life and the whole trip and everything. I drove up to Astoria, Oregon (Where Oregon's claim to fame is, lots of movies get filmed there), and by the time I left the sun was gone and it was quite dark. I drove the final 100 miles back to my home near Portland, where the whole trip began. I haven't had time to sit down and really iron out all the statistics from the trip (Even though I've already been officially home for more than 24 hours) but I'm sure in the coming days, I'll spill out all kinds of data in my journal here.
Jaci just called and asked me if I had come to any conclusions or epiphanies about the trip. Truth is, I don't think the road or America changed me much in the two months I was gone. I'm still the same person. I know more about my own capabilities and what makes home better than anywhere in the country, but do I know more about what I want to do with my life? Nope. When it's all said and done, it almost feels like I got away for two months and now I'm back with all my old problems and anxiety. I saw the country and now I'm home- Back to the grind. Jaci and I came up with the most incredibly accurate analogy/metaphor: The trip, on the whole, was like taste-testing thirty different ice cream flavors one teaspoon at a time- Not enough to really decide if I liked any one flavor or not and certainly not enough time in between to clear my palate. Was the trip imperfect? Of course. But was it one hell of a good time? Yes!
I've discovered I'm a happier person all the sudden. Having been on the trip, seeing all the things I've seen, all the people I've met and all the relatives I've seen for the first time in years, I've learned volumes about where I came from and the things that tie us all together. I've seen the Grand Canyon at sunset, I've talked to people affected by both 9/11 and Hurricane Katrina, I've eaten a sourdough bowl of clam chowder in San Francisco, walked the mall and read the words of Lincoln in DC, I drove my car on beaches on both ocean coastlines and a whole lot of other things. But, even though I've done all these things and accomplished so much all the sudden, what's more important for me was the journey itself. The alone time. The lost hours just thinking and enjoying being alone and on my own. Maybe I did learn something about myself and everything but I can't comprehend it yet.
Arriving home and showing everyone all my collections of trinkets from the road and sharing the stories and showing the photos has been wonderfully exciting. Sharing my experiences with everyone may be, surprisingly, the most rewarding thing I've done the whole trip. So many people expressed their childlike desire to tag along with me and live life on the road as I did. I obviously couldn't take anyone with me but the photos and the stories and all my mementos should give anyone a sense of what it was like and for that I feel better about not being able to take anyone. Maybe one day you all will take your own trip and write your own stories and then I'll be the jealous one. I look forward to that day, actually. I want to hear your stories about how you got stuck in the snow or touched the Statue of Liberty or how you finally saw the Atlantic Ocean for the first time and couldn't believe the colors.
To sum up, I spent the last two months out there seeing my country by road. I learned a lot about this country, but what's most important is I've begun the lifelong journey of learning who I am. And that may be a much bigger and more challenging trip than anything you'll find out on the road.