September 5th – Still on the Road

     I woke up ready to keep driving. Sleeping at a rest stop does that, I suppose. It’s not a destination or even a stopping place really. It’s just a pause. I slept in my front seat, woke up and walked around for two minutes, then got back in my seat and started driving again.

     Yesterday I ended up going a lot farther than I intended. I made it about two-thirds of the way down Idaho and I only needed to get a little further south – to Boise – before I started going east again. I decided to make Boise my morning destination. I wanted to stop in a big city where I could find a Starbucks and finish the planning that I started yesterday.

     I did find a Starbucks. While drinking an iced coffee, I reassessed my stopping points on the way to Yellowstone. I found a rest stop for tonight and made a reservation at the West Yellowstone KOA for tomorrow night. At the KOA, I will enjoy the pool, the showers, and the return to civilization.

     With that figured out, I got back on the road and drove east, across Idaho. Driving on the state highways, I saw a lot of fields (which appeared to be predominantly used for growing hay). I felt almost like I was at sea. With a few color alterations, the rolling fields and hovering smoke would have looked exactly like endless waves and billowing fog.

     Unlike the ocean, the fields I drove through were interrupted by other features of geography and civilization I drove through lots of little towns where traffic slowed to meet the 25 MPH speed limits. The highways I took also paralleled several rivers. My favorite was the Payette River. I pulled off once to take pictures of it and every time I turned around a bend in the road, I wanted to stop again and take more. I resisted the urge. I’ve had that problem many times so far in this trip. I wish I could stop to take every bit of the scenery I drive through, but there is just too much.

 

     I pulled off for the night at a rest stop near Idaho Falls. Tomorrow I’ll start heading north to reach Yellowstone. This is the second rest stop that I have used and I am learning to be grateful for them. They have free overnight parking, clean bathrooms, shade trees, and short walking paths. All wonderful things to find on a road trip!

     I had this rest stop almost to myself (there was only one other car in the parking lot). I got out and stretched, then did my two hundred pushups for Idaho. Now I’ve got four states done! California, Oregon, Washington, and Idaho. Only thirty-one states left.

     After exercising, I played my guitar for awhile and then called home. It was good to talk to my family. My mom asked about my sleeping arrangements. I told her I had just been sleeping in the driver’s seat of the car. She recommended that I move things around in the back of the car so that I could stretch out and sleep there. I liked that idea. It took a bit of reorganizing, but I got it to work. I am very thankful for the suggestion! It’s wonderful to be sleeping in an almost real bed again.

September 4th – Coffee, Shopping, and a Family of Flies

     I drove a lot yesterday. I guess I made it across Washington in one day – from the northwestern corner of the Olympic Peninsula all the way to the tip of Idaho. Then I drive some more trying to figure out if I was at the right campsite.

     By the time I parked and calmed down and got into bed it was almost 2 A.M, so I decided not to worry about waking up early this morning. I slept in until 10 A.M. and then took my time getting going. I did find out that I had indeed wasted time driving in circles last night – this was (in the daylight) obviously the campsite I found online.

     Once I was awake and mostly functional, I decided to find a Starbucks in Couer d’Alene and spend the morning reorienting myself. Last week was full of busyness and fun, but I didn’t make much time to update my blog or plan for this week.

     I started out by reviewing my week in Washington. I finished up my blog entries and tried to upload them. I ended up spending several hours trying. At this Starbucks the coffee was good but the Internet was unbelievably slow. Updating my website felt like trying to drink a Java Chip Frappuccino with a stir straw.

     In frustration, I moved onto my next problem. How would I get to Yellowstone? I had planned to drive straight east, through Montana, then turn south and drop into the north entrance of the park. The forty-two fires currently burning in Montana made me hesitant to continue that way. Already, in the tip of Idaho, I could see, smell, and feel the smoke. I didn’t want to drive into more, and I didn’t look forward to getting stuck on a highway waiting for a fire to be put out.

     I called home and conferred with my dad. He advised me to take the much longer route, south on several Idaho state highways, to arrive at Yellowstone’s west entrance. I decided that was the way I would go.

     I had to backtrack about sixty miles, across the state border again to Spokane, Washington. That gave me a chance to look for a sporting goods store where I could purchase a new cooler. I had brought a cooler with me – or at least I thought I had. It turned out to be rather bad at keeping things cool (which is, I believe, the primary task of a cooler). Since I planned to spend a few days away from civilization while in Yellowstone, I knew I’d need to make an upgrade to keep my food fresh.

     I found a Sportsman’s Warehouse in Spokane. After shopping around, I found a good cooler – an electric Coleman that I read good things about online. Amazon sold the same item a bit cheaper, but since I don’t have a real home address at the moment, buying things on Amazon wasn’t an available option.

     Because of all my scrabbling around in the city, I got a late start on my drive for the day. It was about 4 P.M. when I was finally ready to leave. Since I did start out so late, I picked out a campsite not far from Washington’s southeast border. If I could just drive through Washington and a little bit of Idaho, I’d call it a day.

     On the first part of my drive, I saw a cool bridge and waterfront. But all the way through both Washington and Idaho, the smoke stuck with me and turned the sun into a fiery ball of diffuse orange and red.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

     Today was another good driving day – like most of yesterday had been. It was nice to be getting somewhere. Not messing with slow internet or trying to figure anything out. Just going forward. In no time at all, I arrived at my campsite. I had been following the Clearwater River for quite awhile, and this spot was right in between the river and the highway I was driving on.

     Without the sun, it was difficult to see the campsite clearly. Now it’s two nights in a row that I’ve come into camp after dark. The headlights of my car showed me what was right in front of me and dimly outlined the rest of my surroundings. To my right, I could distinguish a dense thicket of shrubbery and a picnic table underneath a wooden trellis . There was a circular iron fire pit by the river, a pile of driftwood, and a piece of trash blowing around on the ground.

     The lake that I had seen beside me as I drove looked like it would be quite beautiful in the day. A large dark shadow on the far bank appeared to be a mountain.

     I opened my door to get out and then left it open to transfer some things from one of my car to the other. I made a tiny fire with some trash that I had collected, then sat back down in my car to write about the day. That’s when I started to hear a quiet buzzing sound. It was very high pitched – like the old TV in my parents’ room. Whenever my dad would turn it on, I could hear the buzz even though he couldn’t. That’s what this was like and I couldn’t figure out what was making the sound. Then I turned the inside lights on.

     My ceiling was speckled with flies. There were at least thirty of them sitting on and around the lights. They were the small type of flies – the ones that seem too little to do any real harm, but are extremely annoying – and gross and disgusting and revolting.

     I didn’t want to stay at a fly-infested campsite. I put the keys back in the ignition, started up the car, and drove away as fast as I could. As soon as I was away, I opened my windows. I hoped that the flies could take a hint. “Not wanted here, please leave now. Or die.”

     Most of them figured it out. I pulled over ten miles down the road to take care of the rest. They weren’t incredibly smart and I easily disposed of all but one of them. The last fly seemed to have a charmed life. I tried to pin him down several dozen times before he tired of showing off his evasive maneuvers and hid in a corner I couldn’t reach into. I drove on until I found a larger highway pull-off where I could wait him out. I parked and pulled out my computer to write all this down. Every few minutes, he buzzes briefly before quieting down again. Oh well, I’ll just keep driving and forget about him for the moment.

     And I did keep driving, even though I wasn’t sure where I would stop. I knew where I was and where I wanted to go, so I just kept following the route I had planned. About eighty miles from where I stopped to write I found a rest stop, just as I started to get desperate for a place to sleep. There is a sign that says visitors are welcome to stay for fifteen hours. I won’t be here that long… just need to sleep through the night. And off to sleep I go, goodnight!

September 3rd – Highway Patrol

     Today, I am proud to announce, I succeeded in pulling myself out of bed before the sun crested the trees on the far bank of the river. Admittedly, that doesn’t happen until 8 A.M. or later. But still, I was up and ready to go by that time. Last night, I made a reservation for the ferry that would carry me from the Olympic Penninsula back to the mainland of Washington. After making the reservation, I read that I was supposed to arrive at least a half hour before the scheduled departure time, or my reservation would be void. Driving across the peninsula would take at least two hours I knew I’d have to wake up early and get going.

     The drive and ferry ride went smoothly. I started my drive across mainland Washington around 1 P.M.

     My destination for the day was a campsite I found in the middle of the Cascade Mountains. I arrived, as planned, around 4 P.M. Well, I arrived at the place where I thought I wanted to be – the GPS coordinates of the supposed campsite. There was nothing was there. Bummer.

     After circling around to confirm that I had not missed anything, I just kept on driving. Several miles further on, I found a viewpoint parking lot to take a break in. I got out of my car and stretched, then took a few pictures of the Cascades.

      When I returned to my car, I decided to keep driving some for a while. Since I couldn’t find the campsite I had planned for today, why not just drive to the place I had planned to stop tomorrow? Great idea! So I drove on, headed for Couer d’Alene, Idaho.

     I did have a really fun drive. Today has been the best driving day I’ve experienced so far. Maybe it’s because I had such a restful time in Washingtion, maybe it was the lack of traffic, or maybe it was the interesting book I was listening to (The Dream of Enlightenment). Maybe it was all three.

     I stopped once to take a short hike while I was still in the Cascades. There was a “scenic overlook” sign on the highway, so I followed its arrow and found a perfect place to stretch my legs and admire the mountain view.

 

 

    Back on the road, I got through central and eastern Washington quickly. Maybe a little too quickly. That’s certainly what the police officer thought.

     I’ve heard the phrase “speed trap” used before – even read it just yesterday in a book – but I’ve never experienced one. Until today.

     I was driving along a one-lane road, perhaps a little above the speed limit. I caught up to a car which turned out to belong to a highway patrol officer. I slowed down, because, well, I had that kind of remorse we all have when we are caught stealing cookies. Remorse for being caught doing something wrong, and maybe even a twinge of remorse for doing the wrong thing itself. I drove peacefully behind him for about two minutes. Then the police car pulled off to the side of the road and let me pass. And as I passed, he turned his lights on and followed me. Uh oh.

     I pulled off to the shoulder and he pulled up right behind me. He waited for a minute before getting out of his car. Then he walked up to my passenger window.

     “Do you have your license, registration, and insurance?” He asked sharply.

     “Yes, give me just a moment to find them.” I reached in the glove box for the registration and insurance. I handed them to him. I had several things piled on the seat next to me, so finding my wallet was proving to be a challenge. “I’ll have my license for you in a minute.”

     “Hmm. Who is Donald?”

     “That’s my Dad.”

     Silence. Finally, I found my wallet – right in front of my eyes, of course. I picked it up, pulled my license out and handed it to him. “Here it is.”

     More silence. Then he asks, “Where are you headed today?”

     “I left the Hoh River this morning and I’m driving to Spokane.”

     “What is the speed limit here?”

     “Sixty.”

     “Were you driving the speed limit?”

     “No.”

     “That’s exactly right, you weren’t. I was driving the speed limit and you caught up to me real quick. Now you sit here and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

     So I sat there as he walked back to his police cruiser. It only took him a minute. He came back to my car, the driver’s side window this time.

     “Here you are.” He held out my license and registration to me. I took them.

     “Does this car have cruise control?”

     “Yes, sir.”

     “Does it work?”

     “Yes, sir.”

     “Alright, now let me tell you something. Driving over the speed limit will only save you a few minutes getting to Spokane tonight. So you put that cruise control at sixty and it’ll do two things for you. One, it’ll keep you safe, and two, it’ll make sure you don’t get pulled over by another cop. Understand?”

     “Yes, sir.”

     “Okay then, you’re free to go.”

     And I was. He got back in his car and turned it around, getting ready to catch the next lead-footed young driver taking their parent’s car for a tour of the country. I turned on my engine, got back on the road, and set my cruise control at sixty. All night I kept it there until I crossed the Idaho border. There, the speed limit fluctuated from sixty to seventy-five, but I watched it carefully and followed it religiously.

     Now, after a long day of driving and an exciting adventure like the one I had, most people would have a simple strategy for finding a campsite. Most people would think to themselves, “Well, I should just find the quickest place to get some sleep.” That would be quite a reasonable way to approach the subject. However, I found it necessary to pioneer a new approach. I call it, “Drive around in circles indecisively for awhile.” From my experience with this new style of travel, I can confidently say that it will not appeal to most people. It really adds nothing positive to a journey – it is not entertaining, it brings one no closer to the intended destination, and does not provide any edification either. If you don’t trust me and want to try out this new system for yourself though, I will understand. That’s how I spent my night.

     Here’s how it happened. I got to Spokane without incident, then crossed the state border. I passed through Couer d’Alene on the way to my intended campsite. I found my exit and got down the road to the destination. Everything was fine, up to this point. Then, I saw a sign on a side road that said, “Private, Do Not Enter.” After that, I saw something that looked like it might be a reasonable campsite. But I couldn’t quite tell if it was or not. I did know that it was eleven o’clock. It was pitch dark in the area. There were obviously houses on either side of the road. I couldn’t see anything very well and I didn’t want to turn on my high beams. After my experience of the non-existent campsite this afternoon, I didn’t fully trust the website I’ve been using. The reasonable way to solve this quandary would be to turn off one’s engine, walk around the site, and come to a conclusion.

     But for some reason, I have this fear of disturbing people. Part of it is respect for other people – I think that part is good. I don’t want to lose that and become inconsiderate. But sometimes (translation, at least half of the time), I go a little too far, and I think that is bad. Like in this instance. I didn’t want to walk around and wake people up and I didn’t want to turn my engine off and back on. That’s a little overly considerate.

     So instead of just plunging ahead and exploring the area, I decided I would go back where I could find an internet connection and figure this thing out. I would try reading the comments on the website I used and see if I had found the correct campground.

     On my way back to the freeway, I changed my mind. I thought, “Why not just drive around this desolate area, looking for a magical overnight parking spot to appear?” So I did. None appeared, and I only prolonged my already exhausting day. To shorten the story, I eventually realized my error and simply drove back to where I could get cell reception. I looked up the campsite, found that I had indeed been at the right place, and returned myself there promptly. I just drove up to the same entrance I had seen before and parked before pulling out my flashlight to explore. Then I plopped my car down in the middle of what I had originally suspected was the campsite. I am still a little unsure about this place, but I am in need of sleep right now. When I wake up tomorrow morning, I’ll see if I made a mistake.

August 31st – Olympic National Forest

     Time to get back on the road! I am supposed to be going east, toward Idaho, which is the next state on my list. But I heard a lot of great things about the Olympic National Forest, so I decided to take a small (100 mile) detour.

     I left Edmonds this morning and took the ferry across Puget Sound to the Olympic Penninsula. I remember taking a ferry when I was eight years old and being thrilled with the experience. This time it didn’t have the same magic. I was grateful for the ferry and glad that I could get across the water, but it wasn’t quite as special as I remembered. Get on the boat, cross the bay and then you’ll good to go on your way.

     When I did arrive on the other side, I got on highway 101 and drove to Hurricane Ridge. The clouds were out in full force today, so I didn’t get to see too much of the valley below. The mountains were also hazy. The clouds themselves were quite impressive though. I am used to looking at them from below, not above!

     Driving down the mountain was my favorite part. I got to drive through the cloud layer, with huge trees on each side of me. It felt like I was in the J.R.R. Tolkien’s Middle Earth!

     Then, while I was still driving through part of the clouds, a deer stopped by to say hello! Well, to be more accurate, I was driving by the deer and it posed politely while I took a picture.

     When I got down the mountain, I started heading west toward the Hoh Rainforest. I had found a free campsite online and was eager to check it out. Along the way, I ran into some road work that kept the road closed for about half an hour near Lake Crescent. I was prepared this time (after my two-hour delay on the drive through Oregon) and spent the time reading.

     I arrived in the Hoh Rainforest around 5 P.M. and I found the campsite I had read about. However,  the two camping spots I could see were both occupied. I figured it was just a bummer and I’d have to go somewhere else. But the river looked incredibly beautiful so I decided to get out anyway and walk alongside it for awhile. Shortly after beginning my walk, I found that there was a third site! So I walked back to my car, pulled out my tent, and setup camp. And here I am, camping on the bank of the Hoh River, for free!

 

August 28th – Driving through Washington

     Wouldn’t it be wonderful for a day to go exactly according to plan?

     Today did go that way and I have to admit that it was a little bit boring. There were no spur-of-the-moment problems to deal with. No adventures, perilous encounters, near-death-experiences. No car engine break downs. Hmm, I suppose it was quite a good day after all.

     This morning, I regretfully said goodbye to my gracious hosts, their adorable cat Lyle and the wonderful room I stayed in. As I left the M&C Manor, I was treated to a beautiful landscape highlighted by a red sun (a result of the forest fires nearby).

     I drove back south a little way to Eugene to pick up a small package that had been shipped to an Amazon locker there for me. Then, I started my real journey – all the way north to Seattle. And before I knew it, I arrived! The trip took about six and a half hours, including one stop for coffee. It was my smoothest drive yet.

     I am staying with my Uncle Ross and Aunt Diane who have a house in Edmonds, just north of Seattle, with a gorgeous view of Puget Sound. When I got all settled in, we went out for dinner at a Mexican restaurant in downtown Edmonds. I tried crab enchiladas – who knew that enchiladas were ever made with crab? They turned out to be wonderful. During and after dinner, my Aunt and Uncle helped me formulate my plans for tomorrow’s tour of downtown Seattle. I can’t wait to get started!

August 25th – Medford

     This morning I slept in until 8:30 A.M. and enjoyed my cozy campsite at Klamath National Park. When I finally emerged from my tent, I found an overcast sky and crisp mountain air waiting for me. I started out quietly, walking around and simply looking at the green forest surrounding me. Later, I wished I had gotten myself into gear a little quicker so that I could have gotten more done in the day. There’s always something that needs to be done, even on a trip where there’s no school and no need to rush around everywhere.

     Once I did get going, I packed up my tent and headed down the mountain and toward Medford, Oregon. I had arranged to have lunch there with the parents of a friend of mine. I left myself a little extra time because I planned to quickly upload my blog entries from the previous four days before I met with them.

     In Medford, I found a Starbucks to park at, intending to go inside for some free WiFi and expensive coffee. Then, I looked down at my feet and realized that my shoes were entirely covered in dirt. Since I wasn’t camping out in the woods anymore, I decided that I should at least try to look civilized. After the careful use of three paper towels and some water from my ice chest, my shoes looked a bit less like artifacts from an archeological dig and more like footwear that normal, respectable people wear to nice lunches.

     I found a few more small chores to do in my car which took up all the rest of my extra time, so I never actually make it into the Starbucks. When I finished up, I drove over to Jack and Joanne’s house (my friend’s parents) and we drove together to a country club for lunch. During lunch, I learned about Jack’s service in the military and his experiences in the sales industry when he completed his time. I also heard the story of how he and Joanne met and married, then lived in Illinois, Ohio, California and finally Oregon.

     Today my destination was Sweet Home, Oregon. It would have been wise to start the two hundred mile trip right after lunch. So, of course, I didn’t start driving.

     Before starting this trip, I decided that I would update this blog every Monday and Friday and I really intend to stick to that. If I don’t, I’ll fall behind and just make it difficult for myself. Well, it was now 2 P.M. on Friday and I hadn’t uploaded my journals from the week. Shame on me. I decided that I could be quick about uploading. I drove back to the Starbucks that I had been at before and told myself I could finish everything in half an hour.

     We all know how that works. Two hours later, around 4 P.M., I finally started on my way to Sweet Home. And it began very well. Traffic was light and I was excited to be driving again. Around the hundred-mile mark, I stopped along the way to fill up the gas tank. As I pulled up to the station, I saw a booth in between the gas pumps that looked strange. I usually just see gas pumps, occasionally with a payment terminal in-between. Why would there be a booth though? Only when a person walked out of it and came toward me did I remember that in Oregon, the law requires gas to be pumped by an attendant.

     Back on the I5 freeway, everything went well again. For twenty miles. Then, just before 7 P.M., both lanes of the two-lane freeway came to a complete stop. Eventually, I found out that there were two separate accidents up the road – one in each lane. At the time all I knew was that I would be arriving in Sweet Home a little later than I intended.

     About five minutes into the ordeal, those of us unfortunate enough to be on the freeway figured out that we would probably be sitting there for at least a few more minutes, so we turned off our engines and sat back to enjoy the mild evening weather. Some people talked to each other, some listened to music, and some got out of the cars to walk around.

     The place where I got stuck happened to have poor cell reception (phone calls worked, but not mobile data), so many people bemoaned the lack of entertainment available to them now that the ever-present internet was absent. I read, called my parents, and joined in the trapped-motorists-conversations to talk briefly with a mother and daughter who were in the van next to me. They had come from Lancaster, California and were headed up to a school in northern Oregon. We stayed stuck in the same spot for an hour and a half.

     Finally, we began to move. We had slow progress for awhile, but at least we weren’t parked anymore. After another twenty minutes, traffic picked up its pace and began to flow normally. Seventy-five miles later, I arrived in Sweet Home at 10:30 P.M. and was greeted by my friends, Marshall and Cathryn, who had graciously stayed up welcome me. They even had a glorious grilled steak waiting for me. Of course, we had to talk and catch up since it had been a  couple years since we’d seen each other. The conversations lasted until about midnight. And now that I’m done driving, eating, talking, writing, and learning lessons about trying to squeeze too much into an afternoon and the unpredictability of traffic, I can go to sleep. Goodnight!

August 24th – Klamath National Park

    After a surprisingly good night of sleep, I woke up at 6 A.M. to see the sun shining down on me. I appreciated its kind attempt to get me up, but I was too cozy. I slept for another two hours and got up for real at 8 A.M. I packed up my campsite quickly, ate a ham and cheese sandwich for breakfast, and reorganized my car. I left my campsite at 9:30 A.M. and began my drive to Klamath National Park. The drive was uneventful and I continued listening to my audiobook, this time learning about China. I pulled off the road at a rest stop for a few minutes to get this picture of Shasta Lake.

    I got back on the road and drove another several miles to Shasta City. I stopped at a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop to obey nature and then grab a cup of coffee. I walked around the city for about twenty minutes but found nothing intriguing. I found out when I left that I had stopped too soon – there was a much nicer downtown area a mile up the road. But I didn’t know that at the time, so I turned around and went back to the coffee shop I had seen. While waiting in line, I met a young man about my own age, named Kevin. He looked to be of the adventuring sort, so I asked him if he was traveling through, or lived there. He said that he lived in the city and had just come to have a cup of coffee while he read. I could sympathize with that! Before I could ask him what book he was reading, it was his turn in line. After him, I ordered my usual ultra fancy beverage – iced black coffee. It came out quickly and I wished Kevin well before walking back to my car.

    Now I was in mission mode. I had realized earlier that my destination for the day was across the Oregon border. This presented a problem – I had not done my two hundred push-ups in California yet. As my mind always does, I started trying to worm my way around doing pushups just yet. This was only California, I had done thousands here before. I could just skip them and start in Oregon. Then, if I decided I wanted to do some in California, I could do them on the return trip. But I knew that was silly – I wanted to start this off right. So I looked for a nice spot to do them. Sadly, exercise facilities are not a part of the tourist attraction business. I looked in vain for several miles before it occurred to me that a local park would work out perfectly. I pulled off the road and found one and here, again, I went through the mind-games of avoidance. I feel quite foolish now, writing about it. I walked all the way around the park (which turned out to be very extensive), taking pictures of the gold mining equipment they had and exploring the mountain biking trail head. It’s true that I got a good walk in, but I ended up right back where I started. I finally decided to stop wasting time and get going.

    I hoped to break the two hundred into sets and chug systematically through them. As I got close to a hundred though, I realized that wouldn’t work – would need a rest before I was ready to do a hundred more. So I did the first hundred in nine minutes, took a twenty-minute break, and finished the second hundred in eleven minutes. Some people will wonder how I did them so slow and some people will wonder how I did them at all. I’ll let those two opinions balance out and just try to do a little better each time.

    I got back on the road after taking a quick shower (using the ingenious portable shower device suggested by my brother, Andrew – don’t worry, there has never been any Roundup in this one).

    The remainder of my drive took me through increasingly exciting mountain passes, ending with a single lane gravel road with a sheer drop down the mountain on one side. Well, it may not have been a sheer drop, I’m sure one of the giant trees would have been happy to catch my SUV halfway down – though I doubt that trees know the meaning of “gentle.” Anyway, I did meet two other vehicles coming the other way (both were GMC pickup trucks). We made it safely past each other with at least six inches to spare on the cliff side.

    I found the Mt. Ashland Campground almost empty, except for one large RV. I picked the spot farthest away from the RV. I get enough of close proximity in the city, so I reclaim my personal space when camping. Five hundred feet please, keep your distance people.

    I set up my tent around 4:30 P.M. and sat down to read. Ater an hour I got up to stretch my legs and explore the camping area. This is the most beautiful area I’ve been so far on my trip (which isn’t saying much, since I was driving through California), and the temperature was perfect – around 65 degrees.

    When I came back to my tent, I called home to update my family, then went began writing. Eventually, I got tired, and now, around 10:30 P.M. I am quite ready to get some sleep. Tonight I am using a traditional sleeping back and thin air cushion since I don’t want to wake my neighbors by flopping about in my balloon chair.

August 23rd – Driving Again

    It is very nice to have a bed. At the moment I do not have one, and I am missing it. But you don’t know where I am yet, so I’ll have to tell you.

    This morning I woke up at the bed and breakfast where I fell asleep last night. Imagine that – no kidnappings, no teleportation, no sleepwalking! Everything was going right so far. It was 6:30 A.M when my alarm went off and for once I got myself up to make it happy. I got dressed and made it out the door. This was my basketball day. My younger brother, Sam, and I had spent Tuesday and Thursday mornings at our local sports park during the summer, working through dribbling and shooting drills. I have sternly instructed him not to give up the discipline during the fall. Since he will be faithfully working out (right Sam?) I cannot let myself fall too far behind. I spotted a basketball court as I drove through San Luis Obispo yesterday, so this morning I went there to keep up with Sam.

    I didn’t take too long – about forty minutes to get through everything. The weather was amazing. Overcast and sixty degrees – perfect for basketball. Once I finished, I went back to the bed and breakfast for a shower. My friend met me there when I was done and we had breakfast together on the veranda. We continued our conversation from the previous day for half an hour. Then it was time for me to leave and we said our farewells.

    I got started driving around 9:30, but an hour into my journey I knew that I was tired. I suppose waking up early does that sometimes. So I pulled off the road and found a shady parking spot, then took a nap from 10:30 A.M. to 12 P.M. That refreshed me and I got back on the road. And drove. And drove. Today was a long day of driving. I hit some traffic (figuratively speaking) through the outskirts of San Francisco and was stuck in it for about an hour. Eventually, I made it through. I had hoped to camp at a place just outside of San Francisco, but all of the spots were taken. Most of the campsites I plan on visiting are free but do not accept reservations. I will just have to be flexible and have many layers of plans. In this case, I did have a Plan B, which was a campsite west of Sacramento. It was quite a distance further north from where I was, but there was not much traffic on the way so I did not mind the extra time. On the way, I stopped for a break in the small town of Esparto. There is a park in the center of the town which still has swings and metal climbing bars, unlike our boring, “safe” plastic playgrounds in Southern California. I guess, as the cross-street explained, you only live once.

    The remaining miles went quickly and I saw quite a nice basketball court along the way. I thought about stopping to play for awhile, but it was already late afternoon and I wanted to get to my campsite.

    When I arrived, I took out my camping gear and set everything up for the first time. I have a large, green, balloon-like cushion which is intended for use as a sort of lounge chair. It is very comfortable. I set that up and put it inside my tent, intending to sleep on it. That ended up working out rather poorly. The contraption – which I shall call a balloon chair – was indeed comfortable. It was also tremendously crinkly. You know how, when you open a plastic bag full of cookies that you are not really supposed to be opening, your imagination tells you that the sound is so loud that everyone in the house can hear it? Well using this balloon chair on a quiet night is the same as that, except that the whole world actually can hear the sound. I was glad that there was only one other camper at the site, and he was several hundred yards away, behind a little hill, in an RV. Even with all that, I felt like I was making too much noise. I made it through the night though.

 

    I did have to wake up at one point to get my sleeping bag. During the day it had been 90 degrees and at 9 P.M. it was still 85 degrees. I figured that since the sun had already been down for an hour, it wouldn’t get much colder. I just wore pants and a jacket to bed and squished myself into the balloon chair to keep warm. Around 2 A.M. though, I woke up to find my mistake – it was quite chilly. I gave in a got my sleeping bag. After that, I slept like a baby again.

August 21st – The Beginning

    After the excitement of my experimental run on August 7th, it felt strange to have everything go according to plan today. There were no detours, no engine breakdowns and nothing in the least bit unexpected.

    I woke up at 7:30 AM and ate breakfast with my family before making sure that everything was packed up. On Thursday evening, I had started packing the Ford Expedition I would be driving. At the end of the night, I figured that I was almost done packing and would have plenty of extra space. Then Friday and Saturday happened. And Sunday. Each day I found a dozen or more little things I had forgotten to pack. Today was no exception, so I squished in the last minute additions and saw that I no longer had an empty car. So much for packing light.

    Finally, I was ready to go. But my younger brother, Sam, wasn’t quite done with me yet – there was just one more thing to do. It involved swords, plastic shields, and helmets. Sam and I equipped ourselves with the aforementioned items and met in the backyard to fight a farewell duel. Our battle raged long and fierce (translation, we fought for five minutes, being very careful not to hurt each other or chip our swords), leaving both of us sorely wounded and ready to make peace. So make peace we did, and I ran off to get myself cleaned up before I left.

    Now it was time to say goodbye. My family and I sat together in our schoolroom and they prayed for me, then they walked me to my car and wished me farewell as I drove away. Before I could get too lonely and start overthinking the fact that I would be gone for an eternity, I took out my audiobook and began listening. I am still working my way through Our Oriental Heritage, by Will Durant. During my long and uneventful drive, I learned quite a lot about India’s history, religions, and social structure.

    I made one stop along the way – to stretch my legs, call home and update my parents on my progress. Then, I got back on the road and arrived at my Aunt’s house, just south of San Luis Obispo. I spent a wonderful afternoon and evening there. We ate lunch, visited, went for a two-mile walk (along the way we saw a really cool mailbox), visited some more, watched President Trump’s speech, ate dinner and sang a few hymns while I played the guitar.

    And that was my day. Like I said, a peaceful beginning. I hope to enjoy some more adventures in the future. Hopefully, some will be a little more exciting. But not too exciting.

August 7th – Sequoia National Park

     Today, August 7th, was a trial run for the road trip I have planned. It started off well enough, as I got everything packed into my car and started my journey to the Sequoias around 9:30 a.m. Traffic on the 57 and 210 Freeways slowed me down, but I was having a great time. I had an audiobook to keep me company, food to snack on, and an open road before me. I transitioned to the I-5 Freeway, and got over a few hills – then my check engine light went on. When I noticed the light, I pulled off at the closest exit, which turned out to be in Santa Clarita. My clock read 11:05 a.m. Only an hour and a half on the road. I turned the engine off, then turned it back on to see if the light would go away.

     It didn’t. The light stayed on and the engine barely started, while the engine’s heat gauge suddenly spiked up. I popped the hood and got out of the car to check on the engine. When I saw the green liquid that had spilled on the ground, I knew immediately what was wrong. I must have run over an alien who had been using an invisibility shield, and its acidic blood had eaten through to my engine. Whew, it’s a good thing I was blessed with such excellent deductive skills.

     Despite my excitement over the possibility of an alien encounter, I soon realized that the car was simply leaking engine coolant. I started the engine again to see if it would run now after having cooled off for several minutes. It was a little better this time, and the radiator gauge had fallen slightly. The check engine light was still on though, so I was stranded for the moment.

     Now for the phone calls. Will Dad’s answer his work phone? Ring… nope. His cell phone? Ring… Nope. Is Mom at home? Ring… and she answered. My call interrupted her talk with a friend, but I made it brief – just telling her where I was, what had happened, and that I was going to call AAA.

     But then I sat around for awhile, not wanting to call AAA. This trial run had sounded so fun, it couldn’t just end right now. If I called a tow truck, I’d have to go all the way back to our mechanic in Brea and then my trip would be over. Boring.

     After pondering my dire situation with a suitably anguished heart, I tried to reach Dad again. This time he was there. We tried to figure out what the problem was, and I called our mechanic to see if he could help. No luck, I would just have to get it towed. Ten phone calls and thirty minutes later, I was sitting in a parking lot with my car. I had talked to Dad, our mechanic, AAA, and Mom. In the end, I got to the parking lot by moving my car, which had cooled down sufficiently, and was waiting for AAA to come. I still harbored the hope that I could get my car fixed and continue to the Sequoias.

     When the truck arrived, a little after noon, the driver got my car hooked up with only a little difficulty. The driver was polite, and I liked getting to talk to him. His name is Pete. Pete drove us to the nearest auto repair shop, so I could get the problem diagnosed and see if it was anything serious. The attendant told me very nicely that they wouldn’t be able to check on my car until tomorrow. Not exactly what I was hoping for.

     I rushed back outside, hoping that Pete had not unhooked my car yet. He had not. I told him that I didn’t want to wait a whole day to get my car checked out, and asked if he happened to have an error code reader – the simple device mechanics use to read what problem the engine has reported – so that I wouldn’t have to go all the way back to Brea. He did not have one, but he offered to take me to the central AAA hub for Santa Clarita, where the mechanic could probably help me pretty quickly.

     On our drive, I kept talking to Pete and found out that he’s only been towing cars for a few months. Before that, he drove big rigs for twelve years. He went through a driving program right out of high school to gain the qualifications he needed, and after the usual tautology of beginning employment problems (need the experience to get a job, need a job to get experience) was able to keep steadily employed. He said that driving trucks pays better than towing, but he wanted to change jobs so that he could stay in one place and spend time with his wife and three children.

     We arrived at the AAA hub, and the quick diagnosis ended up being rather slow. It was certainly better than waiting a day though. I waited from 1:30 p.m. until about 3:30 p.m. for the mechanic to figure out what was wrong. While I waited, I had a wonderful educational experience. I got to learn about the inner workings of AAA (don’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you, or I’ll be convicted of espionage), and I got to learn about the Middle East from someone who grew there.

     First, I found out that the place I was at (Lyon’s Towing) gets extremely busy in the afternoon. I sat in the office, and in the room next door was the “dispatch” station. It sounded just like a superhero movie. The dispatcher got direct calls from clients and assigned clients on a computer system from AAA headquarters. The dispatcher had to keep track of all these clients, assign them to one of the eight drivers who were on the clock, and call the driver to verbally confirm the “target.” Sometimes the drivers would call in and ask for specific directions when a place was hard to find. “Turn left at the light. Right at the next light. Your pickup is in the shopping center ahead of you. Wow, watch out for the machine guns! Spider-man and Iron man are cutting off their escape. Fly out of the sun at them! ” Well that’s how I heard the conversations. Maybe my imagination ran a little past the facts.

     I found out that Lyon’s Towing works as an independent contractor with AAA, which didn’t enlighten me too much since I was foggy about how independent contracting works in this industry. I learned that they take care of all business with the client/member – battery service, towing, and sometimes repairs – then send the charge tickets to AAA. So basically they do all the work, and AAA sits around making sure that they maintain high standards of customer service. Their performance is measured by surveys that are sent out randomly to a small percentage of the members that they help. These surveys are essential to them – they mean the difference between survival as a contractor, and getting completely cut out of the system. The survey asks three questions, with one point possible for each question – and thus a perfect score of 3 points. If a member marks anything less than “Totally Satisfied,” they get zero points for that question. Lyon’s towing keeps their average score around 2.72. If it falls below 2.7, they get a severe warning from their regional manager who is suddenly grumpy over losing his pay bonus for the month.

     I learned most of this from talking to the manager of the shop. His name is Sam. In addition to talking about business, we also talked about religion and his own life. We started off by talking about my college plans, and he ended up telling me about his experience with college.

     Sam grew up in Iran. He watched the Muslim revolution that took down the King of Iran when Sam was 13 and saw them shut down all the universities in the country. He turned 18 at the perfect time, right when the schools were reopened. His entire university class had only 128 students, 20 of whom were girls. The girls and boys sat in separate sections during class and could be suspended if they were seen talking to each other – inside or outside of class. Sam graduated with a degree in chemical engineering, then completed his master’s degree also. He got married, then immigrated to Canada to pursue a Ph.D. program. His plans were interrupted when he went on an emergency visit to his brother in California, who was running a successful towing shop but was experiencing health problems.

     His brother ended up in the hospital before Sam arrived, with only two weeks left to live. Sam had planned on making this a short visit and a quick return to Canada, but during the visit, his brother begged him to take over Lyon’s Towing instead. After thinking it over, Sam agreed and set his whole mind to the task of learning how to run an auto shop. He left behind Canada, his Ph.D., and his pursuit of a career in engineering. Now, about twenty-eight years later, he told me that he is happy with his decision. He is married and has an adult son.

     I mentioned that I am planning to go to a Christian college, and that got us started talking about faith. Though he came from Iran, Sam is not a Muslim. He believes that there is a God who has designed the world we live in, that we should all treat each other fairly, and that all religious scriptures are wonderful sources of wisdom. But he saw evil in the Muslims who took over the government in Iran and suppressed education, freedom, and opportunity. He does not have a problem with organized religion in general as long as it does not attempt to rule a nation, but he has no personal use for it.

     And that was how I spent my time while I waited for the mechanic. I found my second interviewee. When at last the diagnosis was made, I learned that the engine was fine. The only problem was my cooling system. In some way which I don’t understand, the fan and air conditioner that cool the cab off are also connected to the radiator. And in my car, the fans were sending little bubbles of air into the radiator instead of sending them into the cab. That’s what the smart people said. So theoretically, the car was safe to drive, the problem would just have to be taken care of soon.

     That was the only permission I needed. I drove around town for a few minutes to ensure that the car was not going to overheat again and then decided to continue my journey. I called Mom and Dad to let them know that I would keep going, then I stopped at Starbucks for a shot of happiness. I ended up paying for one cup of unsweetened iced coffee, and receiving that, along with a free cup of sweetened iced coffee which the barista had made on accident. Sweet! I also got a cup of ice and used that to chill some pure cherry juice and mineral water that I had in my car.

     Now armed with enough fluids to… well, *cough. Now resupplied for my journey, I started off again. I drove from 4 p.m. till 8:30 p.m., stopping several times to give the engine a break. Most of the time, I listened to my audiobook – Our Oriental Heritage, book one of the Story of History series, by Will Durant. I’d already gotten past the introduction of the book and its discussion of pre-civilized cultures, so today I listened to the sections on Sumeria, Egypt, and Babylon. I took a few breaks to listen to music when I got tired of hearing about people that lived and died five thousand years ago.

     At 6:30 p.m., I pulled off the road to give my engine a break and talk to my family. Past that break, I started going uphill. For awhile my car did well, and I was thrilled that I would actually make it to the campsite for the evening. Then the radiator gauge started rising again, and I pulled off to wait it out. I waited five minutes, then drove for a minute. The gauge rose again, so I decided it would be safest to give the engine a break. 280 miles on a hot day is a lot more work than I usually put it through. Hopefully in the cool of the morning, after it gets to rest for the night, it will feel better and be willing to take me home.

     So I found a nice little pullout on the side of highway 180 and spent my evening in bliss. It must have been around 9 pm when I finally settled into my spot and started enjoying the night. I took out the physical copy of Our Oriental Heritage and went back over what I had listened to, highlighting the things that had stuck out to me, and thinking grand thoughts about civilization, people, and adventures.

     As the sun disappeared and I started thinking about my situation, I will admit I was a little creeped out. I was stuck on the side of the road, after dark, surrounded by a strange forest. With no cell reception. With coyotes searching the spooky forest for an easy meal, bears lurking behind every tree ready to smash through the thin sheet metal of my car to grab me, and vampires just waiting for the last shaft of sunlight to disappear so that they can drink my blood!

     Okay, I was actually about a hundred yards from a farmhouse, surrounded by tame cattle that were safely fenced inside their owner’s property, with cars driving by every two minutes. But it was still a little creepy.

     At the present moment, in case you couldn’t figure it out, I am journaling. This has been a crazy day. It’s fun to look back over it and to think about the people I met and the stories I heard. I am still super excited for my trip, even though this day didn’t go exactly – or at all – as planned. It still turned out to be an amazing day, and that’s exactly what I was hoping for.