I haven't addressed the whole "being on the dole" thing yet. It's just recently that I have actually addressed it in my own mind and it's been over a year since I was unceremoniously dumped from my last place of work. Being unemployed puts you in a category with millions of other people and thus you know you are not alone. At first you are happy to have some free time to read, to catch up on movies in your Netflix queue, to clean out closets and take the dog for long walks. You dutifully fill out the unemployment compensation forms and naturally there is a problem with those forms (there always is) and you spend a few hours on the phone trying to get the problems resolved. You do and ... look! A check comes in the mail! You get money from the government! You are amazed that the system works. You are also amazed at the paltry sum of the check and realize that it barely pays the rent and you contemplate cancelling your health insurance. You get busy finding another job, answering job ads, honing your resume, perfecting your cover letter. You email 20 - 25 resumes and cover letters each week. You receive no responses.
A couple of months go by and you are granted an interview for a job that you know you would be perfect for. The interview goes very well, you are confident they will call you back. They do not. Now you begin to worry. You know you have great skills and great work experience but so do thousands of other unemployed people and most of them are younger than you are and that pisses you off. In fact, almost everything pisses you off these days. You have way too much free time, dwindling savings and no purpose other than walking the dog.
You slip into a sort of general ennui and you want to stay in bed and sleep all day. You aren't a fool, you know this is depression creeping over you like a wandering kudzu vine but you don't care. You can't sleep at night but napping during the day becomes a ritual, curling up on the couch in the mid-afternoon. You feel like you have Multiple Personality Disorder: Person A worries, Person B enjoys napping, Person C feels fine about getting that unemployment check because, darn it all, she paid into that system for more than 40 years and is entitled to some remuneration, Person D knows that if she were more energetic and "out there" she would have found a new job by now. Depression, anxiety, laziness, sloth? What is it? You decide you don't care and you watch another rerun of "Criminal Minds."
You begin to acknowledge the futility of sending out resumes, over and over, but you do it anyway. The job ads are so depressing. At the beginning of your time as a job-loser you found the ads a challenge, something to conquer. Now they just make you sad. Because there are so many people unemployed, those doing the hiring can have the pick of the litter. You are competing against a younger, more talented pool of candidates who might be willing to be the Office Jesus (aka Savior) for $12.00 an hour. You are not willing to take that job because it would net less than what the State of California puts in your mailbox every two weeks.
Now it is more than a year since you were laid off and your unemployment benefits have just run out. You no longer bother to send out resumes because no one wants to hire you anyway. You spend way too much time reading trashy novels. You think of applying to Wal-Mart or a gas station convenience store.
I haven't even begun to scratch the surface of this subject. What about the dawning realization that you must move because without the unemployment check you can't afford rent? And how does it feel to know that you have no place of your own to move to? More to follow. Time to walk the dog. Again.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Monday, November 29, 2010
More
It was recommended that I write every day. I am not sure I have enough to say that often but let's just see if the every day thing works. I definitely do not want this blog to turn into a diary thing, where I chat about what I did today, like "how I spent my summer vacation." Please, please all of you out there, when/if it gets to that point, tell me. Save me the embarrassing revelation that somehow I turned into a boring shrew.
Movie review: the current Harry Potter film, "Deathly Hallows". I didn't read many of the HP books and did not read the last book, on which this movie is based. Therefore I cannot tell you if it follows the book or if it even remotely resembles the story in the book. I can tell you that it is a very good movie. Amazing visual effects, good story even if you have no idea of what is going on, story-wise. (That would be me.) It's a good way to spend two plus hours, pure fantasy and escapism. Two thumbs up.
Rick Steves: he is on the PBS channel right now. I really, really do not like this man. How can anyone stand to listen to him? His voice sounds like an elementary school teacher swaddled in cotton and sugar with a side of pedophile thrown in. (Harsh, yes, but he creeps me out.) He tries to make foreign travel easy and fun and something that everyone can do. But anyone who has ever visited a foreign country knows that it is not always as easy as Steves makes it seem. In fact, real travel, not group tourist travel on a bus, can be hard work. Those colorful local folks that Steves always finds sitting outside a cafe, willing to chat, are hardly ever accessible to the rest of us. Those rolling suitcases he always finds easy to maneuver do not work so well on the cobblestone streets of many old cities. Not everyone speaks English, unlike the people he connects with. Hotel rooms are small, bathrooms are often shared, food choices are limited, especially in off-season. This is not to say that traveling is terribly difficult, it is simply that Steves makes it seem so easy all the time. I had all my money and my passport stolen on a train in Italy and yet that experience, with the carabinieri and the American Embassy, was one of the most educational experiences of my travel life. Rick Steves doesn't discuss those kinds of things, he just tries to make it all seem pretty and nice.
Well, enough about Rick Steves. Thanks for listening.
Movie review: the current Harry Potter film, "Deathly Hallows". I didn't read many of the HP books and did not read the last book, on which this movie is based. Therefore I cannot tell you if it follows the book or if it even remotely resembles the story in the book. I can tell you that it is a very good movie. Amazing visual effects, good story even if you have no idea of what is going on, story-wise. (That would be me.) It's a good way to spend two plus hours, pure fantasy and escapism. Two thumbs up.
Rick Steves: he is on the PBS channel right now. I really, really do not like this man. How can anyone stand to listen to him? His voice sounds like an elementary school teacher swaddled in cotton and sugar with a side of pedophile thrown in. (Harsh, yes, but he creeps me out.) He tries to make foreign travel easy and fun and something that everyone can do. But anyone who has ever visited a foreign country knows that it is not always as easy as Steves makes it seem. In fact, real travel, not group tourist travel on a bus, can be hard work. Those colorful local folks that Steves always finds sitting outside a cafe, willing to chat, are hardly ever accessible to the rest of us. Those rolling suitcases he always finds easy to maneuver do not work so well on the cobblestone streets of many old cities. Not everyone speaks English, unlike the people he connects with. Hotel rooms are small, bathrooms are often shared, food choices are limited, especially in off-season. This is not to say that traveling is terribly difficult, it is simply that Steves makes it seem so easy all the time. I had all my money and my passport stolen on a train in Italy and yet that experience, with the carabinieri and the American Embassy, was one of the most educational experiences of my travel life. Rick Steves doesn't discuss those kinds of things, he just tries to make it all seem pretty and nice.
Well, enough about Rick Steves. Thanks for listening.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Holidays? Are you kidding?
Yes, we are all stuffed and we are all planning on eating nothing but salad and raw carrots for the next two weeks. The inauguration of the 2010 holiday season has arrived and I hope you were all thankful for something or someone.
The holidays are, to paraphrase Dickens, the best of times and the worst of times. We love them for what they should be and what we historically (or hysterically) have envisioned them to be. On the other hand we occasionally hate them for the disappointment they cause and for the reality that they often force us to face. We get through them, sometimes alone, sometimes sullenly or, if we are lucky, with fleeting feelings of happiness and contentment. Much like life in general, actually.
I know no one who doesn't have a sad holiday tale to tell. But I also don't know anyone who doesn't have at least one great Hallmark-card memory, some moment on which all holiday hopes are hung. Thankfully we have learned to embellish such moments and downplay the sad ones; the human condition is to forget bad and remember good. ("One for bad, two for good" as Rain Man would say.) But it still doesn't make the holiday season any less daunting and frightening for thousands of folks who are simply struggling to survive.
Yikes! Here it is not even December 1st and I am rambling on about the approaching Christmas season. Clearly it is looming large in my small mind, but I will save the rest of that ramble for the days closer to the actual holidays.
When I started this blog I was hitting the road with Cooper. Some of you might be looking forward to the next leg of that journey because reading about my at-home adventures isn't terribly interesting. No worries: more road trips are in the offing. Don't know where or when but soon. In the meantime you will have to be satisfied with local jaunts. Besides, who really is reading this blog anyway? Perhaps no one (and please do not feel compelled to respond to that question) and if that's the case, that's fine. It is as much for myself as for anyone else.
The holidays are, to paraphrase Dickens, the best of times and the worst of times. We love them for what they should be and what we historically (or hysterically) have envisioned them to be. On the other hand we occasionally hate them for the disappointment they cause and for the reality that they often force us to face. We get through them, sometimes alone, sometimes sullenly or, if we are lucky, with fleeting feelings of happiness and contentment. Much like life in general, actually.
I know no one who doesn't have a sad holiday tale to tell. But I also don't know anyone who doesn't have at least one great Hallmark-card memory, some moment on which all holiday hopes are hung. Thankfully we have learned to embellish such moments and downplay the sad ones; the human condition is to forget bad and remember good. ("One for bad, two for good" as Rain Man would say.) But it still doesn't make the holiday season any less daunting and frightening for thousands of folks who are simply struggling to survive.
Yikes! Here it is not even December 1st and I am rambling on about the approaching Christmas season. Clearly it is looming large in my small mind, but I will save the rest of that ramble for the days closer to the actual holidays.
When I started this blog I was hitting the road with Cooper. Some of you might be looking forward to the next leg of that journey because reading about my at-home adventures isn't terribly interesting. No worries: more road trips are in the offing. Don't know where or when but soon. In the meantime you will have to be satisfied with local jaunts. Besides, who really is reading this blog anyway? Perhaps no one (and please do not feel compelled to respond to that question) and if that's the case, that's fine. It is as much for myself as for anyone else.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Confessions in West Marin
Tuesday morning and I am sitting in a small cottage on Tomales Bay, looking out tall glass French doors onto the bay, watching the rain and the ducks. If this was some other location I would be saying to myself "this is so beautiful, I could live here!" But having already done that, I now know better. Today I am a visitor to Inverness, here to run a few errands and see to a couple of appointments.
In my current introspective frame of mind, I can see that I did not make use of the West Marin community as well as others have. I came here married and on a part-time basis. Once that was over I reverted to my somewhat hermit ways and chose not to extend myself into that community. I have always been a bit of a recluse, I admit it. I am not a joiner and prefer small gatherings to large events. In other words, in a small town I was perhaps my own worst enemy.
There are no regrets, of course, because even if I had built up a huge family of friends and acquaintances, I still wouldn't have a job here and thus no income. Living out here would have still been a poor option. But I can still visit and enjoy the scenery. Today is a beautiful day. More to follow.
In my current introspective frame of mind, I can see that I did not make use of the West Marin community as well as others have. I came here married and on a part-time basis. Once that was over I reverted to my somewhat hermit ways and chose not to extend myself into that community. I have always been a bit of a recluse, I admit it. I am not a joiner and prefer small gatherings to large events. In other words, in a small town I was perhaps my own worst enemy.
There are no regrets, of course, because even if I had built up a huge family of friends and acquaintances, I still wouldn't have a job here and thus no income. Living out here would have still been a poor option. But I can still visit and enjoy the scenery. Today is a beautiful day. More to follow.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Portland - Daly City
Beautiful drive from Portland, took a right turn in Grants Pass out to the coast, to Crescent City. More forests, more gorgeous trees in all colors. Spent the night in CC and drove Hwy. 101 back to the bay area. I love the drive from the northwest edge of California going south, the road is wide, fast and scenic and never very trafficky.
I know I have said it before but I think this year's tree colors are the best I have ever seen. Maybe it's my imagination or maybe I just don't get out much but everywhere I went the trees defined the term "awesome." Every shade from pale yellow through dark gold, from pink to scarlet red, from apricot to burnt orange. The colors of the leaves put a huge box of crayons to shame. As a person who has lived in California her entire life and in very moderate climates, I have never lived where trees changed colors and then dropped their leaves so abundantly. It was wonderful.
Now back in Daly City, staying at Gabe and Annie's for a while, in the bedroom I had when I lived in this house more than 25 years ago. To say it feels odd is to belittle the emotions I am feeling. Not only am I out of work, I am out of a home base and feeling quite unconnected. The jury is still out on this episode of my life; let's see how it shakes out in the next month or so. I will keep you posted.
But Thanksgiving is just around the corner and there is much to be thankful for, of course. The basics: health, family, friends. The extras: a dog, a car and plenty to eat. It's been a rough year for a lot of people but a lot tougher for others. Let's just be thankful for a couple of days for what we have. At this moment, a lot of thunder, lightning and rain!
I know I have said it before but I think this year's tree colors are the best I have ever seen. Maybe it's my imagination or maybe I just don't get out much but everywhere I went the trees defined the term "awesome." Every shade from pale yellow through dark gold, from pink to scarlet red, from apricot to burnt orange. The colors of the leaves put a huge box of crayons to shame. As a person who has lived in California her entire life and in very moderate climates, I have never lived where trees changed colors and then dropped their leaves so abundantly. It was wonderful.
Now back in Daly City, staying at Gabe and Annie's for a while, in the bedroom I had when I lived in this house more than 25 years ago. To say it feels odd is to belittle the emotions I am feeling. Not only am I out of work, I am out of a home base and feeling quite unconnected. The jury is still out on this episode of my life; let's see how it shakes out in the next month or so. I will keep you posted.
But Thanksgiving is just around the corner and there is much to be thankful for, of course. The basics: health, family, friends. The extras: a dog, a car and plenty to eat. It's been a rough year for a lot of people but a lot tougher for others. Let's just be thankful for a couple of days for what we have. At this moment, a lot of thunder, lightning and rain!
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Two Photos
These might get lost in the background but here is a photo of a park in downtown Portland and one of Cooper and his pal Gumby.
Portland
This is a city that I could live in. There is an actual downtown area, with all the financial and business buildings you would expect in a metropolitan city, city parks, public transportation and coffee everywhere. There is a decent art museum, hundreds of restaurants, all the services of a big city. Some of the little neighborhoods remind me a great deal of the small 'hoods in SF, (think Noe Valley) but more accessible and even more diverse in housing opportunities and in local commerce. While the racial population of Portland might not be as mixed as SF or LA or NY, it definitely is not as white as West Marin. (well, nowhere is.)
We spent a great deal of Monday simply walking through the city, from our hotel area to the college and looping around to different sections. We then spent another hour or so driving a bit farther out, into older neighborhoods with stately homes or small cottage-like homes. Finally we met up with Tom's niece Camille who lives in an area called Alphabet District and it would be the perfect place for me to live. Everything is within walking distance and while some of it is a bit upscale, most of it is more down-home: a Trader Joe's but also a very cool independent market, small neighborhood cafes, coffee places and bars, good restaurants, old buildings, laundromats, car repair shops, banks, dentists, everything you need within a 4 or 5 block radius. Plus it is just a couple of miles (walking distance) of the downtown center.
This is not to say that I am rushing home to pack up and move here. (First problem: who would rent to a person without a job? No one.) But I might start thinking about jobs here and I would definitely come back if the employment possibilities looked promising. So much remains to be seen and discovered, but it is encouraging to realize that a city holds great appeal to me. I told a friend recently that after living the past 20 years in the country I would really like to live in a place that has a skyline.
Today we took a beautiful ride through the Columbia River Gorge area, saw some brilliant waterfalls and a little snow, some blinding sunshine off Mt. Hood and gorgeous country vistas with trees still changing colors. Tonight we are meeting Camille back in her neighborhood for dinner (via the free streetcar). Tomorrow means saying goodbye to the Hotel Monaco for now and venturing on.
Since this entire experiment (not having a home, doing some car traveling, figuring out the next phase of my life) will probably go on for a while, this blog will continue even when I am back in the bay area. Keep reading. Who knows where I will end up? I sure don't.
We spent a great deal of Monday simply walking through the city, from our hotel area to the college and looping around to different sections. We then spent another hour or so driving a bit farther out, into older neighborhoods with stately homes or small cottage-like homes. Finally we met up with Tom's niece Camille who lives in an area called Alphabet District and it would be the perfect place for me to live. Everything is within walking distance and while some of it is a bit upscale, most of it is more down-home: a Trader Joe's but also a very cool independent market, small neighborhood cafes, coffee places and bars, good restaurants, old buildings, laundromats, car repair shops, banks, dentists, everything you need within a 4 or 5 block radius. Plus it is just a couple of miles (walking distance) of the downtown center.
This is not to say that I am rushing home to pack up and move here. (First problem: who would rent to a person without a job? No one.) But I might start thinking about jobs here and I would definitely come back if the employment possibilities looked promising. So much remains to be seen and discovered, but it is encouraging to realize that a city holds great appeal to me. I told a friend recently that after living the past 20 years in the country I would really like to live in a place that has a skyline.
Today we took a beautiful ride through the Columbia River Gorge area, saw some brilliant waterfalls and a little snow, some blinding sunshine off Mt. Hood and gorgeous country vistas with trees still changing colors. Tonight we are meeting Camille back in her neighborhood for dinner (via the free streetcar). Tomorrow means saying goodbye to the Hotel Monaco for now and venturing on.
Since this entire experiment (not having a home, doing some car traveling, figuring out the next phase of my life) will probably go on for a while, this blog will continue even when I am back in the bay area. Keep reading. Who knows where I will end up? I sure don't.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Hotel Love
While I like the background of the travel blog, I am not sure I like how it looks published, so I am experimenting with new stuff. We'll see how it works.
From Eugene to Portland, easy drive. Now we are at the Hotel Monaco, a Kimpton Hotel, downtown Portland. They like dogs and it is not a motel. Cooper and I asked for an upgrade and got a suite, not huge but actually rather nice, small living room with couch, chairs, table, coffee table, TV. Separate bedroom with lovely tall doors that could close off the living room if one had someone to sleep in that area (we do not). King bed, another TV, more chairs. We are Happy. We like hotels. We tolerate and accept motels because motels are very useful and expedient but Cooper and I have realized that we are more Hotel Peeps. Or at least we would like to become such, like the Madeleine books about the little girl who lived in a hotel in France. Cooper and I want to be her. No chance of that happening, we know, but still...... Being homeless, we can dream of many things, and living in this hotel is one of those dreams. Sigh. (Yes, I know. The homeless card is shamelessly played.)
Tom is here, too, in a smaller room, with his dog. Cooper and Mario (the dog) got to play "Running Laps" in the hotel corridor, chasing each other down the corridors which run in a loop, snipping and biting each other's tails, running as fast as they can. Great exercise, esp since I am on the 7th floor and the hotel is not really that crowded right now. Good fun.
More to follow but time for bed and zut alors! It is not even 10:00 yet! This hotel life is so exhausting!
From Eugene to Portland, easy drive. Now we are at the Hotel Monaco, a Kimpton Hotel, downtown Portland. They like dogs and it is not a motel. Cooper and I asked for an upgrade and got a suite, not huge but actually rather nice, small living room with couch, chairs, table, coffee table, TV. Separate bedroom with lovely tall doors that could close off the living room if one had someone to sleep in that area (we do not). King bed, another TV, more chairs. We are Happy. We like hotels. We tolerate and accept motels because motels are very useful and expedient but Cooper and I have realized that we are more Hotel Peeps. Or at least we would like to become such, like the Madeleine books about the little girl who lived in a hotel in France. Cooper and I want to be her. No chance of that happening, we know, but still...... Being homeless, we can dream of many things, and living in this hotel is one of those dreams. Sigh. (Yes, I know. The homeless card is shamelessly played.)
Tom is here, too, in a smaller room, with his dog. Cooper and Mario (the dog) got to play "Running Laps" in the hotel corridor, chasing each other down the corridors which run in a loop, snipping and biting each other's tails, running as fast as they can. Great exercise, esp since I am on the 7th floor and the hotel is not really that crowded right now. Good fun.
More to follow but time for bed and zut alors! It is not even 10:00 yet! This hotel life is so exhausting!
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Wandering Minds
This morning I read a little blurb about a Harvard study that said people who had wandering minds were less happy than those who didn't. Instead of thinking about the past or the future, it seems that those who "live in the moment" feel happier. Now, some of this makes sense. Constantly second-guessing one's actions, regretting the past, worrying about the future, dwelling on what happened instead of enjoying what is going on now, it is easy to see how that would get in the way of being happy. But then I wonder what sort of an analogy this creates in my own life. (Yes, it is always about me.) Here I am, wandering the roads, having few plans about what I will do two days from now, untethered, somewhat rootless (not to mentioned route-less) and if that isn't a product of a wandering mind, I am not sure what is. What I am doing right now is wandering. And not just physically, not just wandering the West Coast in my small car with my dog. At the same time, my mind is always skipping from one thought to the next: what should I do next week? Do I think I can actually get a job in this economy? When the reality of being slightly homeless hits me, how will I really respond? What will I do when the money runs out? Why are all the radio stations here playing only Christian rock and who actually listens to this stuff?
But wait! With all this wandering, mentally, emotionally, psychologically, I still feel happy! In fact, I feel more grounded and "in the moment" than I have felt in a very long time. So you can see the conundrum here. My mind is jumping around like a chihuahua on a hot skillet but somehow I have also figured out how to do this "live in the moment" thing.
I am not dismissing the Harvard study, of course. Paying attention to what is in front of us, to what is happening right now is very important. To negate the present because of worry about the future or regret about the past is to really screw up one's sense of contentment and happiness. But to only dwell on the present might mean ignoring the experiences that led one to this present moment and it might mean poor planning for the future. I think our past and our future color our present moments and they should. We are the sum of our experiences. Yes, we can sweep some of those unpleasant experiences under the rug (and we should) but some of them create the fabric of who we are right now. And without that fabric, without the flaws in that cloth, we would be, to continue the comparison, a plain white cotton sheet. Without considering what colors are in our future, that plain white cotton sheet would stay that way: serviceable but boring.
Perhaps it is just that I have had too much really good coffee this morning and that has led to this ramble. But I really believe that sometimes we have to let our minds wander and get out there and get some fresh air and look over the edge of the cliff. The moment is good, true, but without the bruises of the past and the shadows of the future, the moment is just that: one dimension of a life.
Be happy. Let your mind wander, then reel it back in.
But wait! With all this wandering, mentally, emotionally, psychologically, I still feel happy! In fact, I feel more grounded and "in the moment" than I have felt in a very long time. So you can see the conundrum here. My mind is jumping around like a chihuahua on a hot skillet but somehow I have also figured out how to do this "live in the moment" thing.
I am not dismissing the Harvard study, of course. Paying attention to what is in front of us, to what is happening right now is very important. To negate the present because of worry about the future or regret about the past is to really screw up one's sense of contentment and happiness. But to only dwell on the present might mean ignoring the experiences that led one to this present moment and it might mean poor planning for the future. I think our past and our future color our present moments and they should. We are the sum of our experiences. Yes, we can sweep some of those unpleasant experiences under the rug (and we should) but some of them create the fabric of who we are right now. And without that fabric, without the flaws in that cloth, we would be, to continue the comparison, a plain white cotton sheet. Without considering what colors are in our future, that plain white cotton sheet would stay that way: serviceable but boring.
Perhaps it is just that I have had too much really good coffee this morning and that has led to this ramble. But I really believe that sometimes we have to let our minds wander and get out there and get some fresh air and look over the edge of the cliff. The moment is good, true, but without the bruises of the past and the shadows of the future, the moment is just that: one dimension of a life.
Be happy. Let your mind wander, then reel it back in.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Bend - Eugene
The last post sounded a bit whiny, didn't it? It sounded like "poor me, I have to drive in the snow!" As if someone was making me take this journey and I was pissed that winter weather was hindering my enjoyment of getting to take several weeks of meandering through the countryside, not working, not doing much of anything other than whatever I wanted to do. What a big baby. No more complaining, not for a couple of days at least.
The drive today could have been daunting, at least if I had payed attention to the DOT reports (that's Dept. of Transportation, in case you were wondering) about all the snow on the mountain pass and the flashing lights on the road that said you could not go over the pass unless you carried chains or had snow tires. I decided to take my chances and ignore all the warnings and ignore the scary photos on the DOT website about road conditions and just get on with the drive. Hell, if it was too bad, I could always turn around, right? And it was an incredibly easy and beautiful drive, a little icy but nothing remotely dangerous. Once I passed the high summit (not very high, actually, less than 5,000 feet) and was down to about 2,000 feet, the snow was gone and the road was narrow and the trees were very, very tall, probably about the height of a 4 or 5 story building. The tree line was only about 8 feet from the edge of the road so it was as if one was driving through a very tall tunnel of dark green trees. The road was straight and the effect was so eerie because no one else was on the road but me, just me and these incredibly tall trees. I could see a small swatch of sky, just a swipe of blue at the top of the trees. Stunning.
In Eugene now, staying with John and Diane, nice to be in a cozy home, sound of soft rain on the roof. I am looking forward to good, strong coffee in the morning and that's about as far into the future as I want to look at this moment.
The drive today could have been daunting, at least if I had payed attention to the DOT reports (that's Dept. of Transportation, in case you were wondering) about all the snow on the mountain pass and the flashing lights on the road that said you could not go over the pass unless you carried chains or had snow tires. I decided to take my chances and ignore all the warnings and ignore the scary photos on the DOT website about road conditions and just get on with the drive. Hell, if it was too bad, I could always turn around, right? And it was an incredibly easy and beautiful drive, a little icy but nothing remotely dangerous. Once I passed the high summit (not very high, actually, less than 5,000 feet) and was down to about 2,000 feet, the snow was gone and the road was narrow and the trees were very, very tall, probably about the height of a 4 or 5 story building. The tree line was only about 8 feet from the edge of the road so it was as if one was driving through a very tall tunnel of dark green trees. The road was straight and the effect was so eerie because no one else was on the road but me, just me and these incredibly tall trees. I could see a small swatch of sky, just a swipe of blue at the top of the trees. Stunning.
In Eugene now, staying with John and Diane, nice to be in a cozy home, sound of soft rain on the roof. I am looking forward to good, strong coffee in the morning and that's about as far into the future as I want to look at this moment.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Am I on crack, driving these roads?
The reason why most people take car trips in the late spring or summer is becoming quite clear to me. It is because there is no friggin snow on the road! There is no snow falling from the sky! There are no semi- trucks dumping chunks of snow in front of your car at 65 miles per hour! Clarity comes too late, reasoning takes a back seat to opportunity: here's a road, let's take it! Not only did I drive to Bend today (which is a really unattractive city, at least the part I have seen) but tomorrow I need to drive to Eugene, which is back across the mountains, and unless I want to retrace my tire tracks I will need to go on even snowier roads to get there. The roads are plowed and relatively clear but messy and rocky and dirty as hell. The car looks pathetic, covered with road spray from aforementioned semi-trucks. The big trucks can only get to Bend on one road (the others are too narrow or icy) and that was the same road I chose to take. Fun. Loads of fun. There were road signs indicating migrating bears and I held out hope that I would see some but alas, nothing furry appeared except the occasional small road kill.
As I was traversing Oregon (some of which was very scenic, some not so much) I was wondering if there was a metaphor in taking the back roads. Maybe something about moving out of the safe life and trying to expand my horizons, leaving the ease of the known and venturing into the scary unknown. This search for the metaphor that could apply to my new untethered life occupied my thoughts for a little while until I decided "no, there is no metaphor here, just a stupid idea to take the back roads." Perhaps as my travels continue something metaphorical or allegorical will unfold. Right now it is just a lot of sloggy driving.
You are all no doubt curious about Cooper. Yesterday I gave him a dose of Benadryl since I knew we would be in the car for a while. It didn't seem to phase him until about 4 hours after the dose when he finally calmed down in the car. Then the effects of the drug seemed to last for another 6 hours after that, as he lay almost motionless on the bed in our motel, obviously in a drug-induced stupor. Today I gave him nothing and he did the heavy panting the entire time we were in the car but at least right now he responds to me as I walk around the room. But true to form, he loves hotels and motels. The long corridors are perfect for running and playing with his toy and we have had rooms with king beds, so much bigger than the double bed he is use to at home. (Well, when we had a home, that is.) Other than his hatred of the car, he is a good traveler. (Motel review: this Comfort Inn just outside Bend, going a bit north, is very nice, good pillows, quiet, off the road and cheap. And they take dogs!)
There is much to be said about the above mention of not having a home right now, but that will wait until the metaphor moment, or at least until a little later in the journey. Part of me wonders why I am driving around, why I just don't go somewhere, get a hotel room for a week and stop driving. What is the driving accomplishing? Do I think I will find a city that I love and a job will magically fall from the heavens? Am I running away, or driving away, from something other than myself and my lack of a job? Am I simply in denial and trying to run from that? I have no idea right now. Like Scarlett, I will think about it tomorrow.
As I was traversing Oregon (some of which was very scenic, some not so much) I was wondering if there was a metaphor in taking the back roads. Maybe something about moving out of the safe life and trying to expand my horizons, leaving the ease of the known and venturing into the scary unknown. This search for the metaphor that could apply to my new untethered life occupied my thoughts for a little while until I decided "no, there is no metaphor here, just a stupid idea to take the back roads." Perhaps as my travels continue something metaphorical or allegorical will unfold. Right now it is just a lot of sloggy driving.
You are all no doubt curious about Cooper. Yesterday I gave him a dose of Benadryl since I knew we would be in the car for a while. It didn't seem to phase him until about 4 hours after the dose when he finally calmed down in the car. Then the effects of the drug seemed to last for another 6 hours after that, as he lay almost motionless on the bed in our motel, obviously in a drug-induced stupor. Today I gave him nothing and he did the heavy panting the entire time we were in the car but at least right now he responds to me as I walk around the room. But true to form, he loves hotels and motels. The long corridors are perfect for running and playing with his toy and we have had rooms with king beds, so much bigger than the double bed he is use to at home. (Well, when we had a home, that is.) Other than his hatred of the car, he is a good traveler. (Motel review: this Comfort Inn just outside Bend, going a bit north, is very nice, good pillows, quiet, off the road and cheap. And they take dogs!)
There is much to be said about the above mention of not having a home right now, but that will wait until the metaphor moment, or at least until a little later in the journey. Part of me wonders why I am driving around, why I just don't go somewhere, get a hotel room for a week and stop driving. What is the driving accomplishing? Do I think I will find a city that I love and a job will magically fall from the heavens? Am I running away, or driving away, from something other than myself and my lack of a job? Am I simply in denial and trying to run from that? I have no idea right now. Like Scarlett, I will think about it tomorrow.
Maybe not so Bend-able
Just looked at the travel conditions on the road I wanted to cover but it seems the road hits high elevations and the traffic cameras are showing lots of snow on the roads. And perhaps more to come. Sigh. But hey! It is part of the adventure, right? Getting stuck in snow on the side of the road, me and little Cooper, having to burn books for heat and eat Cooper's dry kibble for sustenance? I am thinking NOT on that kind of adventure. Driving in the snow might be fine for a Jeep (hint) but little Freddy the Fit is not a fan of freezing nor a fan of fishtailing on icy roads. Neither am I. Alternative plan must be created. Stay tuned.
Garberville-Weaverville-Yreka
Tuesday wasn't a day of big adventures but it certainly was a day of beauty. Highway 299 going east from Arcata is, at this time of year, simply stunning. While the Trinity Alps are not as high (in elevation, anyway) as other Alps in the world, they are still very beautiful. Oaks, maples, alders, amber trees and others that I couldn't identify were all in various stages of different red, gold and orange colors and with the dark green background of the redwood and fir trees, the drive was very scenic. Spits of fog draped across some of the ridges like long white ghost hair. This is the road you would take if you were in Arcata and wanted to go across the state to Hwy. 5 and if you take it in the fall you will be well rewarded.
Along the way it is obvious that some of the locals are definitely conflicted about who to believe in. Big signs for God ("Have questions? God has the Answers.") and big signs for BigFoot competed for road space in one of the little villages. There is even a museum for BigFoot! And here I thought he was a fictional character, little did I realize that he (or she) is a real, live Big Foot! But I wondered if some of those questions couldn't be answered in a different way: "Have questions? BigFoot has answers!" or even "Have God? BigFoot has questions!".
Spent the night in lovely Yreka. Quiet, cold, snow flurries last night but a lovely morning, sunny and clear. We are taking the long way to Bend, Oregon today, along a scenic highway. Now it is time for a shower, some real coffee and the road. Why is it that motel coffee has so little caffeine and so little taste?
Along the way it is obvious that some of the locals are definitely conflicted about who to believe in. Big signs for God ("Have questions? God has the Answers.") and big signs for BigFoot competed for road space in one of the little villages. There is even a museum for BigFoot! And here I thought he was a fictional character, little did I realize that he (or she) is a real, live Big Foot! But I wondered if some of those questions couldn't be answered in a different way: "Have questions? BigFoot has answers!" or even "Have God? BigFoot has questions!".
Spent the night in lovely Yreka. Quiet, cold, snow flurries last night but a lovely morning, sunny and clear. We are taking the long way to Bend, Oregon today, along a scenic highway. Now it is time for a shower, some real coffee and the road. Why is it that motel coffee has so little caffeine and so little taste?
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Garberville
Tuesday morning, in Garberville, lovely cold and misty morning, surrounded by old redwood trees and the wintery smell of ..... hmmm, what is that smell? At this time of year one would expect to smell burning wood from fireplaces and woodstoves, but this smell isn't exactly wood smoke. It smells a little woody, a little skunky and a little like, perhaps weed? Could it be that the folks here in town burn marijuana in their ecologically correct wood stoves and the entire town stays high? That is precisely what it smells like. Garberville, where everyone looks either homeless or drug-addled and yet most of them drive huge brand-new American made trucks! How could this be?
My goal yesterday was to get into the Trinity Alps using small back roads instead of Hwy. 5 to Redding or Hwy 101 to Arcata. However, the small roads indicated on the map were actually unpaved roads and 40 miles of unpaved roads in my little Honda just didn't seem like a good idea. Stopping at a ranger station in the booming hamlet of Covelo confirmed that there was no way into the Alps that was paved unless I went back to one of the above safe roads. So three hours of beautiful driving through some gorgeous Mendocino forests later, we were back on Hwy. 101 and thus spent the night in Garberville.
Today, up to Arcata, taking a right on Hwy. 299 and into the mountains, ending somewhere near Redding a few hours later and on into Oregon. At least that's the plan for now. However, unlike the postal workers, Cooper and I are often thwarted by rain, sleet and snow. Off we go......
My goal yesterday was to get into the Trinity Alps using small back roads instead of Hwy. 5 to Redding or Hwy 101 to Arcata. However, the small roads indicated on the map were actually unpaved roads and 40 miles of unpaved roads in my little Honda just didn't seem like a good idea. Stopping at a ranger station in the booming hamlet of Covelo confirmed that there was no way into the Alps that was paved unless I went back to one of the above safe roads. So three hours of beautiful driving through some gorgeous Mendocino forests later, we were back on Hwy. 101 and thus spent the night in Garberville.
Today, up to Arcata, taking a right on Hwy. 299 and into the mountains, ending somewhere near Redding a few hours later and on into Oregon. At least that's the plan for now. However, unlike the postal workers, Cooper and I are often thwarted by rain, sleet and snow. Off we go......
Monday, November 8, 2010
Heading North
For those of you who are in the dark about my latest development, a quick update: I moved away from Inverness, put my belongings in various places and am just starting a driving trip to parts unknown. For how long, I don't know. Final destination, don't know. Purpose, to see what's out there that I haven't seen yet and perhaps secure employment somewhere along the way. Or not. It sounds rather vague but it is the right time for me to stretch out and leave the safe, secure world of West Marin. And who knows, perhaps I will return, just not for a little while.
Along the way I will be documenting my journey with this blog which I invite you to read and respond to and suggest other destinations that you think I might like or just follow along, sitting in the back seat with Cooper, as it were, along for the ride.
Along the way I will be documenting my journey with this blog which I invite you to read and respond to and suggest other destinations that you think I might like or just follow along, sitting in the back seat with Cooper, as it were, along for the ride.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)