Day 17 - 06/18/2008

It was a slow start this morning. I didn’t get up until 8:15—so much for remembering I’m on vacation. But I needed to make trails today. Somehow I needed to get to June Lake pronto. My road trip is nearing its conclusion, and I need to maximize every adventuresome minute of it.

We started the morning similar to yesterday. We finished 1 Corinthians and prayed for family, loved ones, and missionaries. I will miss my mornings with Sherman and Harriet. Even though I’ve only had two breakfasts here, I feel as though I as part of their routine. We ate breakfast, and I started packing. As I loaded the car, Harriet surprised me with a sack lunch. I was grateful, but not as grateful as I would become later that afternoon when I clued in that I didn’t have much food left in my trunk.

I think I’ve been neglecting to mention the silent member of the Peterson family. The cat, affectionately called, “Cat.” Sherman and Harriet don’t feed him (gender presumed but not confirmed), but he appears taken care of. He’s been hanging around outside their home for quite awhile now. Anyway, he likes to stare. That’s really all there is to say. And to think I’ve been forgetting to mention Cat.

Before sending me on my way, Sherman wanted to get a few pictures of me and us with his camera. He set up his tripod out on the curb, and he quickly snapped one of just me, one with Harriet and me, and another of the three of us.

As a parting gift, Sherman had given my something very special at breakfast: a round 2-it. He had mentioned how people always say they will do things when they “get around to it,” so he figured they shouldn’t be kept waiting for their round 2-its. He took some metal discs (they kind you would hammer out of a j-box, and marked them “2 IT.” So now people will have no excuse not to get those things done that they’ve been putting off while waiting for their round 2-it’s. That little disc is going to be my motivator to finish up this blog timely.

So I began driving. I went about two hundred miles, and filled up my gas tank in Oregon for the last time this trip. I was so glad because it just feels weird not to pump your own gas. That’s just a “thing” for me, I guess. It just feels so inefficient. And I wonder if it’s to protect additional jobs or some safety hazard concern from people topping off their tanks or something.

I reentered California and started whooping and hollering in my car, even bouncing up and down a little. The guy in the car next to me had a nervous look on his face. I didn’t care: I had missed home in some way. As much as I loved Washington and have a desire to live there someday, I think California will always be home base.

I continued driving, considering whether I was rushing through this stretch too fast. I hadn’t even looked at my AAA Tour Book to see if there’s anything I would want to stop and see on my way down. Oh well, seeing friends and family is more important. The experiences on this trip have been amazing, but I think the people I’ve encountered are what have truly made things enriching.

Driving through Redding, I saw a highway alert that the SB 5 was closed in Sacramento for repairs. I had been planning to transfer over to state highway 16 in Sacramento to get out to June Lake, so I would have to wait and see how this played out.

It started getting warm the farther south I drove. On my way down, I got another call from work. My coworker said I’d need to actually look at this, so I told him I’d call back once I could stop someplace. I kept an eye out for a rest stop, and finally found a truck stop where I could also fill up my gas tank again. But it was too hot to sit in my car and try to do this.

So I took my laptop inside to the restaurant, which required passing through two of those security stands that guard stores from theft. My laptop sent those alarms flying off the handle, and yet the store clerks didn’t even look in my direction as I tried to point out that it was just my laptop. I went into the restaurant and ordered some food so they wouldn’t take issue with me opening my laptop and talking on my cell phone. I was able to give my coworker further instructions on the work to be done, but it was very frustrating to lose over 30 minutes of driving in this miserable truck stop with this deplorable food that I only finished because I was starving and didn’t want to go out to my car for some granola bars.

Today I finished reading Confessions of a Jane Austin Addict by Laurie Viera Rigler, which was thoroughly disappointing. That author did well with the self-reflective nature of the heroine, but dropped the ball with some obvious sub-plots, was entirely too graphic in some of her descriptions, and wrote a really stupid ending. I had expected this book to have the flavor of (or at least be tributary to) Jane Austin’s beloved works, but it sorely missed the mark from an author who claims to be such a fan.

Next I opted for Any Place I Hang My Hat: A Novel by Susan Isaacs. I didn’t finish the first chapter on the first CD. Rereading the back, I wondered what I had been thinking when picking it out at the library. I am doing a lousy job at books selection for this road trip (except for the Bible, of course). The John Grisham book I selected and tried to start the trip out with turned out to be the abridged version (a practice I currently detest, even if the author DID approve it). I must have mentally inserted a “un” prefix in my haste at the library. So, from the library, I’m 0 for 3. Onto The Worst Noel, a collection of short stories about Christmases gone awry, sure to alleviate with humor whatever misery the holidays may find you in.

It’s a good thing I didn’t listen to this collection at Christmas because I likely would have killed myself. My first complaint is that the authors are reading their own works, meaning that they usually lack the vocal performance skills to give an engaging auditory experience. The first story was so littered with profanity that one English teacher’s (Carla, 9th grade, second quarter) words echoed in my ears, “Profanity is a sign of a limited vocabulary,” along with Kelly’s (swim coach, high school) words, “Swearing is a feeble attempt by a small-minded person to express an opinion.” I didn’t get more than three minutes in before moving on.

The second story was a half-hearted improvement, but a disappointment still. The narrative was disparaging, and the ending was so depressing that I can’t even write about it. I listened to the third story, but found it very boring. The title of this book is very appropriate, but the subtitle is a little off: these have to be some of the worst holiday short stories I’ve ever subjected myself to. They’re actually bad stories, not bad situations depicted with intelligent heart and humor. I gave up on that collection.

Next was Company Man by Joseph Finder. The synopsis on the back cover was very intriguing, but I was apprehensive about starting an 18-hour book as my trip is winding down. I decided to give it a try since I was about out of choices. The remaining options just looked unappealing now that they’re in my trunk.

As I got closer to Sacramento, I had to make a decision: just go home, or head out to June Lake? I would love to see everyone there, but part of me just really wanted to go home. I could get back two days early and have time to re-establish life. I decided to go to June Lake. This trip is about new experiences and adventures.

I made it through the detour without issue (shocking, given my track record, I know), and pulled off at another gas station. I wanted to have full tank headed into the Yosemite area since prices would be much higher there. From the gas station, I called Lydia to confirm the directions that she had e-mailed to me about getting to the cabin. I didn’t think I’d get there tonight, but I was going to get as far as I could.

I continued south on highway 16, and soon merged over to highway 49. That route actually drove me past a hospital client I had last year, which brought back some pleasant memories for me and Serena. This was her second client with me, and it was the one where she finally told me her name.

It was about 11 p.m. when I finally decided to stop. I had just arrived at the 108, and was thinking about taking it to go around Yosemite since the entrance gate would be closed. I wanted to purchase an annual pass, and I didn’t know how that would work. I started on the 108 to go the long way around the north end, but almost immediately saw a Walmart in some obscure town that I was about to pass.

I decided this would be our stopping point. I wasn’t tired, but I was worn out. I put my curtains up quickly. I had driven 850 miles today. Wow! That’s probably a personal record for me.