Poulsbo Trip: Chapter 3 - The Road Home

Day 9: Saturday 7/21

The alarm wakes me at 5:30, Viv is already up making coffee. We hurry through breakfast, then get back to work. Viv finishes packing while Nick and I start loading the bags and boxes into the trunk. We take a last walk down to the beach, say goodbye to our landlords and the dog who "adopted" us, then hit the road. It's only 8:40, not too bad. At the corner convenience store I fill up the tank on the Lumina, then I step inside looking for the ATM. The clerk, a woman a few years younger than me, is sleeping behind the counter. She wakes up as I walk in. I ask where the ATM is. "Sorry, it's out of order," she replies. I respond: "Well, thanks anyway. You can go back to sleep now." She laughs, tells me to have a nice day.

It's another grey day, and I have to turn the wipers on to clear the drizzle by the time we reach Bremerton. Traffic is light though, and we make good time, going through Tacoma and getting on the 5 before too long. Unfortunately, we are unable to see St Helens or any of the other mountains today, the clouds are low and visibility is only a few miles at best. The sky clears and we break through into the sunshine about halfway through Oregon. We stop at a Casino for a break from the road. Viv and Nick go to play games in the arcade, while I play the slots. I donate a quick $20 to the Indians, decide I'm not lucky today, then join Viv and Nick in the arcade. After a couple games of air hockey we get back on the road, we want to make it to Redding by nightfall.

We stop for gas at a station just north of the California border. Oregon has a law that you can't pump your own gas. I think this is kinda strange, at first, but the gas doesn't seem any more expensive than Washington. Probably helps provide jobs for people, so I guess it's a good thing. The guy filling our tank, a "good ole boy" a few years older than me, asks where we're headed. I tell him "Back to LA." "Gee, that's too bad," he jokes.

Further down the road after we cross over into California, we spot a tall mountain on our left, Mt. Shasta. The peak is sticking through a bad of clouds, it looks like a postcard picture. It's gotta be a pretty big mountain. We drive a long ways, probably more than half an hour, and still the mountain is visible. Further down the road, we drive by Shasta Lake. My boss has a houseboat up here, he's on vacation right now too. I look down and see lots of good-sized boats out out on the lake, I wonder if one of them is his?

We finally make it to Redding. Nick picked up a brochure, I think at a rest stop (or maybe back at the casino?), that has dicounts for motels in Redding. We stop at one of them, but Viv thinks it looks too seedy. We drive a few blocks further and find a more acceptable looking place, but one that is still within our budget.

I check us in, and ask for directions to the nearest sandwich shop. The owner, an Indian, tells me that there is a burger place close by. I tell him we're tired of road burgers, so he gives me directions to a Subway across town. I leave Viv and Nick to unpack, somehow manage to find the place after a couple wrong turns (burnt out from driving), and get back to the room with our food. I wash down my sandwich with a Gin and Ginger while we watch spiders on Discovery on the motel TV, the first TV we've watched in a week. I notice Viv and Nick are staring at the TV too, we're all all mesmerized, like zombies, not saying anything to each other. (I guess the old terms "boob tube", "idiot box" were right.)

I step outside onto the balcony alone, sipping on a second G&G mixed in a styro cup, hear a freight train rumbling by. (the tracks are only a couple blocks from here). "Ain't that America," I think to myself, as I listen to the deisel engines fading away... The lonesome wail of the air horns as the engineer sounds them at some unseen crossing in the distance... bringing back memories of riding the freights in Colorado, years ago, on another summer night. (But that's an other story.)


-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z


The Last Day: Sunday 7/22

The motel alarm wakes us at 5:30, we want to get an early start, beat the traffic back into LA. I flip through the channels on the TV while eating a bowl of sugar coated shredded wheat: Weather / Alan Alda talking to a reporter / Lawn Tractor Ad / Three Stooges. I leave the channel there, Nick likes The Stooges.

I step out onto the motel porch (we're on the second floor). The cool, dirty concrete feels good on my bare feet. I'm sipping on my coffee, watching an ant crawl past my toe, enjoying the Sunday morning quiet. It's only in the mid 60's now, but I know it's gonna be hot in the Central Valley today.

Back inside, I take my morning shower. And an excellent shower it is, too. The stall is clean, lined with pink ceramic tiles, and has an old chrome shower head with no water restrictor! I turn it on full and let the hot water blast on me, filling the bathroom with steam.

Viv has finished packing up the bags and suitcases, so I get Nick to help me carry them out. We fill the belly of our "Great White Rental Shark" up with our luggage and say goodbye to Redding.

On the road, the Lumina is running well: The A/C's nice and cool, and the cruise control keeps the speed steady. Viv has her headphones on, listening to Metallica while knitting. Nick has his headphones on, playing GameBoy. I mess around with the radio and pick up a local station that has a good mix of music. They just played an old ZZ Top tune, now they're playing The Chili Peppers:

"Sometimes I feel like I don't have a partner
Sometimes I feel like my only friend
Is the city I live in, the City of Angels
Lonely as I am, together we cry..."

I always liked that song, and it seems appropriate for the mood I'm in. Heading back to LA... Sharing the journey with my wife and son, yet we're all in our own worlds this morning. The song finishes, they play some Ozzie next:

"Crazy, but that's how it goes
Millions of people living as foes
Maybe it's not too late
To learn how to love, and forget how to hate..."

I never really listened to the words to "Crazy Train" before. Good lyrics, Ozzie.

There's a sign for a rest stop ahead, I slow down. Nick has to pee, and so do I. The bathroom closest to where we parked is closed, so we start walking to the next one. There's a couple panhandlers hanging around, we avoid them by walking across the lawn. We empty the trash out of the car before leaving. Making good time so far this morning, with any luck we'll be back in town before 5:00.

We just stopped for lunch at the Lodi McDonalds. A little shook up, Almost got into an accident. Took a left after the off ramp into the wrong lane. I thought it was a two lane highway, turns out it's four lane divided. I had think fast and cut across the dirt divider to get into the right lane before I got hit head-on! (If you ever get off the 5 in Lodi, watch out for this. I saw other tire tracks where I cut across, looks like other people had to do the same thing.)

I told Viv and Nick: Once, when I was a kid and our family was on vacation, my Dad made the same mistake. He had to cut across the dirt divider on a highway to avoid being hit by oncoming traffic. I told Nick to remember this, your father and grandfather had to do it. When you grow up, if you're ever on vacation somewhere with your family and you screw up and end up in the wrong lane, be sure to cut across the divider quick, before you get into an accident.

In the Lodi McD's: It's a crowded "Hamburger Hell" in here today. Ordered burgers, fries, a filet sandwich and shake for Viv. The fish fryer just broke down, it's beeping like mad. The manager, a big sweaty guy (looks like he weighs close to 300 lbs), is trying to fix it. Lots of people in line, some are getting pretty testy, waiting for their cholesterol "fix". They finally get the fryer working, reward us for our patience with free cheeseburgs, extra fries, and a large shake. Standing in line made me hungry, so I eat too much. (I know I'm gonna regret this later)

On the road, getting sleepy, belly full of cheeseburgers. We pull over at a rest stop a few miles north of Firebaugh. I get out and walk around, splash some water on my face from the sink. It's getting pretty hot out now. Yellow jackets buzzing around the trash can next to the car as we leave.

South of Firebaugh: We've got to be close to the place we saw all the cows out in the dirt on the way up. We keep driving and driving, never do see the cows. We pass some industrial/farm type buildings near a large pole that has several dish antennas on it . I joke with Viv and Nick, say the antennas are really transporters, the aliens used them to beam the cows up to the mother ship.

The radio is playing a classic Eagles tune as we start climbing into the mountains:

"...Up ahead in the distance I saw a shimmering light
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim, I had to stop for the night..."

Like a big, smoggy magnet, LA is slowly drawing me home.

"...Plenty of room at the Hotel California
Any time of year, you can find it here..."

It'll be good to get back home, sleep in my own bed for a change.

"...Mirrors on the ceiling and pink champagne on ice
And she said: We are all just prisoners here of our own device..."

Yeah, I know Viv doesn't really like living in the LA area, but I have a decent job there, good pay, 401K, senority. I'd hate to give all that up.

"...Relax said the nightman, We are programed to recieve
You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave..."


We succeed in beating the Sunday traffic back into LA, we pull into our driveway at about 4:30. I hurry to unload the car with Nick while Viv unpacks the cooler. I clear the trash out of the Lumina and we head over to the Avis lot, Viv following in the Voyager.

I fill out the slip for the car, we've put 2,947 miles on it in ten days. I drop the keys off and we head back home, visions of sitting on the porch with a cold beer dancing through my head. It's been a long trip, but I enjoyed it all. Writing about it has been an interesting and enlightening experience, too. I'll have to bring my pad and pen with me in August, when I go to visit my sister in Florida.


~ END ~


End Note: It's now October 9th, over two months after this trip occurred. I finally finished transcribing my notes to my weblog, and then creating these chapters. I have kept this journal true to what I was thinking, feeling, and experiencing at the time. If you want to view the weblog version, complete with links to related web pages, it can be viewed at http://poulsbotrip.blogspot.com/

I also have notes from my trip to Florida ready to transcribe. That trip was shorter, so that journal won't be as long. I will be posting it here as soon as I get it written. But before I do, I'll probably take a break and work on some of my other projects.

P.S.: If you've been reading this journal, please take a few minutes to click on my e-mail link and send me a note. I'd like to hear from you. Any feedback (good or bad) would be welcome. Thanks.