Returning to the Sun
I worked a full day on Friday, said good bye to my kids, and then headed out with my parents, saying goodbye to everything on the Peninsula as I drove away. I will return.
After a final dinner of pizza from Waterfront Pizza in PT, my parents and I headed across the Bainbridge Island Ferry. My father and I shared some final conversations before I hugged them tight as the ferry was docking, feeling a little better about their departure since I will see them at Silas's wedding in a few weeks.
I pulled off of the ferry and drove up through the steep hills of Seattle's downtown, and circled around I-5 until I finally found an onramp, and I was off. At 928pm, I set off, attempting to drive straight to Boulder, CO without stopping. Driven at a fast and constant speed, this takes about 19 hours. I climbed up through the Cascades outside of Boulder, pleased with how my little Saturn was running, figuring that since I had just worked a full day and had a long week, perhaps I would wimp out and decide to sleep in the woods alongside the road around 2am.
At 2am, I was well into eastern WA, so I just kept going. My eyes began to shut and my head began to bobb as I drove through the wine country of WA, so I popped a mouthful of sunflower seeds into my mouth, and began to shell and separate them in my mouth. A year ago I found this to be a supreme anti-sleep technique while roadtripping. I reserve for only when I feel I will wreck if I don 't do something to stop from sleeping. The sunflower seeds got me through the rest of WA and then through the northeastern tip of Oregon. At 5am, I pulled into the same gas station Peter and I pulled into a year ago at Boise Idaho. I was making great time. I got some coffee, a pack of ciggy-boos, red bull, and I was off again.
I had a tough time again after this. I couldn't keep my eyes open for anything. I felt completely awake, then the mind-rattling jolt of the rumble strips would bring me back to the road I was racing down at 80 mph. I opened the pack of American Spirits, and smoked my first cigarette in a very long time. Surprisingly it really woke me up. I washed that down with a Red Bull, and I was humming again. I felt great. The sun had just peaked over the mountains to East as I crossed over into mountain time somewhere in Idaho I think. Then, the flat began. Off in the distances, mountains could be seen, but all around there was only flat sagebrush and other ubiquitous desert stuff.
I continued on like this, drinking one cup of coffee, three mugs of mate, 4 Red Bulls, smoking half a pack of cigs, eating half a sub, sunflower seeds, and this managed to keep me awake and feeling sane and happy until Western Wyoming.
As I dipped down out of Ogden, Utah, and headed towards Wyoming, I felt my sense of self fade, and my mind began to wander away from the road. At times, my eyes would shut off, and I would be driving deep in thought, with my eyes completely wide open, yet I would almost drive off of the road. I would begin to search for something in the mess that surrounded me in my car, and forget I was driving. I would look up to see I had just passed several cars without even thinking about it at about 80mph. The driving has become so monotonous that speed seemed not to exist whether it was 30 or 80mph. I was just moving, and somewhere out there was an endpoint.
I turned onto I-25 and dropped finally into Co, immediately people were zooming past me at 90mph in the 75mph zone. People got erratic and aggressive, and I realized I was in for a lot of shocking changes from the life I had eased into on the Peninsula. The past 5 months, I think I drove 70mph once, when I went over to Seattle to see Sara. Now, I had just driven much faster than that for 16 hours, yet people were still hurdling past me. I was almost hit several times. A small flatbed truck went over a bump, and a piece of 2x4 a long as my arm came flying off, over the car in front of me, and hit the front of my car as I ran over it. I sped up to take the persons license plate to find there was none on the trailer. The driver looked at me in the side view mirror, and sped off over 95mph before I could get close enough to write down the license plate obscured the truck's trailer.
Finally, around 630pm, I drove into Boulder, and made my way to our appt, after refueling. I got 445 miles to my final tank of gas, putting me at 44 miles per gallon for my last tank, a rate that had been increasing the whole 19 hours trip. I hugged Sara tightly, feeling at home, yet awkward. I was back in Boulder, yet it felt foreign like a hazy dream. I needed to sleep. It was Saturday evening, and I had been awake since friday morning at 5am, having slept for about 5 hours on Thursday night. I felt so awkward and loony the whole night, at times I felt like I needed to leave.
However, after some time with Sara, and a lot of sleep, Boulder feels good again. While it isn't the Peninsula, there is so much here that I love. I am glad to be back, and I am very excited to begin work at the camp again.
I went rafting yesterday with my work, although I don't start til Sunday, and then I came home, ate some Chipotle, then knitted a hat for Sara, pulled it almost all out, and re-knit it, but I am still not totally happy with it. I was worried that the haze I felt when I arrived here would never go away. I am glad it has. Now, I must readjust to this oppressive heat, cracked lips, sunburnt skin and scalp, and cracking fingers.
After a final dinner of pizza from Waterfront Pizza in PT, my parents and I headed across the Bainbridge Island Ferry. My father and I shared some final conversations before I hugged them tight as the ferry was docking, feeling a little better about their departure since I will see them at Silas's wedding in a few weeks.
I pulled off of the ferry and drove up through the steep hills of Seattle's downtown, and circled around I-5 until I finally found an onramp, and I was off. At 928pm, I set off, attempting to drive straight to Boulder, CO without stopping. Driven at a fast and constant speed, this takes about 19 hours. I climbed up through the Cascades outside of Boulder, pleased with how my little Saturn was running, figuring that since I had just worked a full day and had a long week, perhaps I would wimp out and decide to sleep in the woods alongside the road around 2am.
At 2am, I was well into eastern WA, so I just kept going. My eyes began to shut and my head began to bobb as I drove through the wine country of WA, so I popped a mouthful of sunflower seeds into my mouth, and began to shell and separate them in my mouth. A year ago I found this to be a supreme anti-sleep technique while roadtripping. I reserve for only when I feel I will wreck if I don 't do something to stop from sleeping. The sunflower seeds got me through the rest of WA and then through the northeastern tip of Oregon. At 5am, I pulled into the same gas station Peter and I pulled into a year ago at Boise Idaho. I was making great time. I got some coffee, a pack of ciggy-boos, red bull, and I was off again.
I had a tough time again after this. I couldn't keep my eyes open for anything. I felt completely awake, then the mind-rattling jolt of the rumble strips would bring me back to the road I was racing down at 80 mph. I opened the pack of American Spirits, and smoked my first cigarette in a very long time. Surprisingly it really woke me up. I washed that down with a Red Bull, and I was humming again. I felt great. The sun had just peaked over the mountains to East as I crossed over into mountain time somewhere in Idaho I think. Then, the flat began. Off in the distances, mountains could be seen, but all around there was only flat sagebrush and other ubiquitous desert stuff.
I continued on like this, drinking one cup of coffee, three mugs of mate, 4 Red Bulls, smoking half a pack of cigs, eating half a sub, sunflower seeds, and this managed to keep me awake and feeling sane and happy until Western Wyoming.
As I dipped down out of Ogden, Utah, and headed towards Wyoming, I felt my sense of self fade, and my mind began to wander away from the road. At times, my eyes would shut off, and I would be driving deep in thought, with my eyes completely wide open, yet I would almost drive off of the road. I would begin to search for something in the mess that surrounded me in my car, and forget I was driving. I would look up to see I had just passed several cars without even thinking about it at about 80mph. The driving has become so monotonous that speed seemed not to exist whether it was 30 or 80mph. I was just moving, and somewhere out there was an endpoint.
I turned onto I-25 and dropped finally into Co, immediately people were zooming past me at 90mph in the 75mph zone. People got erratic and aggressive, and I realized I was in for a lot of shocking changes from the life I had eased into on the Peninsula. The past 5 months, I think I drove 70mph once, when I went over to Seattle to see Sara. Now, I had just driven much faster than that for 16 hours, yet people were still hurdling past me. I was almost hit several times. A small flatbed truck went over a bump, and a piece of 2x4 a long as my arm came flying off, over the car in front of me, and hit the front of my car as I ran over it. I sped up to take the persons license plate to find there was none on the trailer. The driver looked at me in the side view mirror, and sped off over 95mph before I could get close enough to write down the license plate obscured the truck's trailer.
Finally, around 630pm, I drove into Boulder, and made my way to our appt, after refueling. I got 445 miles to my final tank of gas, putting me at 44 miles per gallon for my last tank, a rate that had been increasing the whole 19 hours trip. I hugged Sara tightly, feeling at home, yet awkward. I was back in Boulder, yet it felt foreign like a hazy dream. I needed to sleep. It was Saturday evening, and I had been awake since friday morning at 5am, having slept for about 5 hours on Thursday night. I felt so awkward and loony the whole night, at times I felt like I needed to leave.
However, after some time with Sara, and a lot of sleep, Boulder feels good again. While it isn't the Peninsula, there is so much here that I love. I am glad to be back, and I am very excited to begin work at the camp again.
I went rafting yesterday with my work, although I don't start til Sunday, and then I came home, ate some Chipotle, then knitted a hat for Sara, pulled it almost all out, and re-knit it, but I am still not totally happy with it. I was worried that the haze I felt when I arrived here would never go away. I am glad it has. Now, I must readjust to this oppressive heat, cracked lips, sunburnt skin and scalp, and cracking fingers.