I took the Golden Gate out of San Francisco and attempted to see the redwoods at Muir Woods. I say attempted because I drove all the way there, passed 4 parking lots that were full and decided that the scenic drive (with steering wheel movements reminiscent of a bad ’80s arcade game in the rapid back-and-forth motions) had put me in a less than nature-friendly mood. I doubted the behemoths had changed much from when I was a kid and used that thought to make me less annoyed at my failed viewing. Nothing however could lessen my rage at the broken GPS lady when I was weaving around San Quentin, unsure if I was heading the right way.
Starving and a bit queasy, I reached for my trail mix. I’d had this particular mix before but didn’t remember getting such a crazy amount of peanut brittle my last go-around. Originally, that pinch of sweetness was why I picked this one but now I was essentially eating bite after bite of candy. Who is taking this on a trail, I thought to myself?! How does this nurture a hiker? Unless they were hiking in Candyland. Then, it would feel appropriate.
Approaching Lake Shasta and all it’s many campgrounds, I began to see the extensive roadsigns that choose to nix the words and just show items. There were colorful squares with binoculars, a shoe, an anchor, a life preserver. It was like the Parker Brothers came out and designed an outdoorsy version of Clue. I believe the murderer is L.L. Bean, near the trail, with the hiking boot. Perhaps the time alone in the car was getting to me.
I stopped at a hotel next to a Dairy Queen in Medford, Oregon. The only notable event was the next morning when I excitedly walked towards the shower and turned on the water. A good, long shower was a luxury these days and I had been looking forward to this one. I played with the temperature knob, moving it back and forth. I gave it time in every different direction but all I could get was burning hot water. I even tried putting my foot in to see if I could stand the heat. I could not. I quickly pulled my foot out and saw a red mark form. It was 30 minutes until my late check-out and the possibility of moving all my stuff into a new room and getting on the road in a reasonable amount of time was not good. I bit my lip, gathered my stuff and checked out of the hotel. On the way out, I got a Dairy Queen dipped cone and continued to the highway. A piece of the hardened chocolate fell onto my arm while I was driving with both hands occupied. I looked at my arm and looked back at the road. My arm. The Road. My arm. The road. I touched my lips down to my forearm and sucked the chocolate piece right off. Your standards can change after 3 weeks in a car.
hahaha get that chocolate :p