The morning started with a doorbell, rousing me from a deep, sleeping-pill-inspired rest. So excited about starting my trip, I had to calm my mind with a couple tiny blue pills last night. But the doorbell woke me, or maybe it was the dog barking.
At the door was my cousin, Jeremy, and his wife. In town for the funeral, they stopped by to say hello on their way out of town. He told me he was surprised to see me still home. It was 8:30, and I guess I was a little surprised to still be home. "Overslept, I guess."
The few minutes I spent visiting with them were peaceful. But since then, things have blurred by.
I packed the last of my things into Pam this morning — some food, my electric razor and some nicer clothes, just in case. Then, it was a tearful goodbye from my parents. Sometimes I forget I won’t be coming home from this trip, at least, not anytime soon. Saying goodbye was hard, harder for my mom. I’ll miss them.
At 10:30, I set out south on I-5, which took me to Grant’s Pass where I switched over to 199, not sad to see the freeway slip away in my rearview mirror. Highway driving is what Pam was made for… she’s not a fan of the interstate system, its fast speeds and tractor trailers.
The trip down through southwest Oregon was uneventful and blustery. I crossed into California, sad to leave Oregon behind, but excited for the adventure ahead.
When 199 met 101, the clouds melted away, and the sun stayed with me the rest of the day, even showing itself in slivers through the Redwood canopy. The coastal air kept things chilly, but the sun was warming even so.
In Crescent City, the Californian equivalent to a Pacific Northwest costal town, I stretched my legs at the Battery Point lighthouse, which was built on land set aside in 1854 by everyone’s favorite US president, Franklin Pierce. Yep, Pierce. He actually did something.
In 1857, the lighthouse was under the firm hand of one Theophilis Magruder, who earned $1,000 a year to turn the lights on and off. As you can imagine, this was a pretty boring job for Mr. Magruder, so like any good lighthouse manager, he filled his time by making lists of his supply stock. One such list follows:
- 1 clock
- 2 lantern curtains
- 12 curtain rings
- 1 pair straight scissors
- 4 3/4 lbs. whiting
- 2 paper tripoli
- 2 buff skins
- 1 Wolfs Head brush
- 1 rouge brush
- 1 dusting brush
- 10 emery papers
- 1 soldering iron
- 1 3/4 lbs. tin solder
- 1 bottle ink
- 6 lead pencils
- 1 hand lantern
- 3 lbs. rouge
- 1 gallon turpentine
- 4 cun brooms
- 10 sheets sandpaper
Now, I don’t know much about being a lighthouse keeper in 1857, but it seems to me that old Theophilis had an excess of rouge, leading me to wonder if:
a) Theo was a bit of a tart and enjoyed rosy cheeks far too much.
b) He was, in fact, not a fan of rouge, and had used all the other makeup, leaving the rouge behind.
or c) Rouge is not makeup at all, but rather some sort of lighthouse specific substance a simpleton like myself would know nothing about.
Perhaps I’ll never know. So, I’m just going to picture Theo sitting alone, lighthouse flashing above, applying copious amounts of rouge to his face late into the night. He was bored after all.
Legs stretched and with a new historical figure to mock — in addition to the wonderful President Pierce — I moved on south, entering the great Redwood National Forest. And more importantly, my first official tourist trap — THE TREES OF MYSTERY!
I didn’t pay to see the trees, seeing that they are the same trees you can see anywhere in the forest, but I did stop to grab some post cards and a snapshot of Paul and his big blue ox.
Shortly after seeing Paul’s big, hairy chest, I paid $4.00 for gas for the first time in my life. Holy crap, $33 and I got eight gallons of gas. For shame.
The sting of the pump was forgotten quickly, though. Just down the road, I came across a herd of Roosevelt Elk, eating and sunning themselves in a ecotone, what wildlife types call the area where the forest meets the grassland. (I read informational signs… can you tell?)
They let me get pretty close, and I have to say, the experience was a treat. They are very majestic animals, cautious, but trusting.
I’m pretty sure she’s pregnant. Actually, seeing that there was only one male, who payed no attention to me, I assume most of them are preggers. In Texas, the state steps in when something like that happens. Not with Elk though.
By the time I was done bothering the wildlife, the sun was getting low in the sky, so I decided to pull off the road and camp at Patrick’s Point State Park. The sunset was something to see.
And that, my friends, was day one. Sorry I rambled on and on… everything is still pretty exciting.
Well, my bags are packed, or I should say, every closet and cubby inside Pam is full. I have a weeks’ worth of food, plus nuts and the like to munch on. I went to the home improvement store the other day and had a nice guy in the plumbing department cut various lengths of tubing, picked up various wire and grabbed a few spare nuts and bolts — basically, I’m ready to MacGyver better than Richard Dean Anderson.
Sticking with the theme of sharing this experience the best I can, feel free to peruse my supply list — modified from a list found at Westfalia.org — or just skip on down to the bottom:
110v extension cord, HD grounded, 2, 25′ & 50′
1st aid kit, lg. + snake-bite
A/C adapter old 2-prong outlets to 3-prong grounded
address & phone # book
air compressor, 12v
aluminum foil
bath towels, 2
battery jumper cables
binoculars, armored 8×30
blankets, 3, down, wool, jean
bottle & can opener (Crap! still need a can opener!)
box, storage (plastic covered shoe box), 2
bug spray, DEET
bungee cord assortment
butter dish
camera, bag, acc., batteries, etc.
canteen or water bottles
car chemicals
car factory shop manual
car service & warranty books, dealer addresses
car spare parts for planned services + 2
cell phone, AC & DC chargers
Chap-stick
cheese grater
cloth to clean glasses
clothes pins, metal clip style, 10-12
clothing, 8 days ea. + jackets (Layer up!)
coffee press
tea pot
funnel
flashlights
eating utensils, 2 sets
credit cards
cutting board
dish washing liquid
degreaser, “409”
dishpans set of 4
dishtowel
dish-washing sponges, 2
duct tape, 2″
egg carrier (I bought one. A little green guy from REI. Note, these should instead be called egg crushers, as when closed, they manage to break the very eggs they are made to protect.)
electrical assortment (wire ends, fuses, wire, etc.)
electrical tape
emergency blanket/survival tarp
emergency saw
eyeglasses cleaner
fire starters, GI surplus or commercial
sheets & pillow cases, set
flares & safety triangles
flashing trouble light/lantern or strobe
folding water bucket
glue, Crazy-glue & epoxy
hand cream
hand towel
hardware assortment (nuts, bolts, screws, etc.)
hatchet or sm. ax
hats
heavy plastic spoons, 2
hose clamps or seals/clips
hose, fold-flat water w/ spare washer
hose shutoff valve, 3/4″
hunting knife, lg.
laundry bag
laundry soap & Bounce
maps
matches, strike anywhere, wood
soup bowls, 4
micro-cassette tape recorder for photo log
multi-strand baling wire
nail/staple assortment
oil, spare engine, 2 qt.
paper pad or notebook
paper towels, 2 rolls
passports
pillows, 2
extra prescription glasses
rain ponchos
rope, 2 lengths 5/16-3/8″ dia.
scrubby & SOS pads
shoes: boots, running & shower clogs, ea.
shovel, sm. or folding
soap
soft sealing 3/4″ hose adapter for hookups w/ damaged threads
spatula
spice assortment
swimsuits
toaster, camps stove style
toiletries & hygiene products
toilette paper
tool kit + extra or special tools for specific car
trashcan
velcro and snaps for repairs
vitamins, etc.
washrags, 2
WD-40
whiskbroom
ziplock bag assortment
Yep, all that and a kitchen sink.
Honestly, I don’t know how well I’m going to sleep tonight. True adventure is right around the corner. None of this “I tried a new restaurant” or “I took a new way home from work” adventure… but real Jack Kerouac stuff.
First, it’s south, into California. I’m not sure how far I’ll make it in the first day, but my goal is to get into the Golden State tomorrow, even if that means just getting across the boarder. I still haven’t decided if I should go for a night or two in the Redwood Forest, where I always hope to meet an Ewok, or make a mad dash toward San Francisco with the hopes of finding a warm beach somewhere further south. There’s good river swimming in the forest, but sunny beaches sound nice right now, especially seeing that it was hailing this afternoon.
Because I spent the morning buzzing around, packing and cleaning, then took the afternoon to attend Norman’s funeral and the ensuing family gathering at Grandma’s house — I love my grandma, she’s the classiest gal I know — I haven’t had a whole lot of time to let my mind settle on the fact that tomorrow I’ll be setting out on the road trip I have wanted to take for the last ten years.
Now,all packed up, my mind buzzes with questions. Who will I meet along the way? What will I see? Where will I find hardship, enlightenment, peace?
Holy crap, here we go.
I’m alive.
Yes, I know many of you have just given up, thinking I had dropped off the face of the earth. But no. I haven’t.
However, I’m not on the road yet, either. A series of weather delays and my grandfather’s unfortunate death have kept me in Oregon through Tuesday. I will be hitting the road bright on Wednesday morning.
In the meantime, I have been visiting friends, spending some time with my grandma and sleeping in way too late. Today, I break that last habit, getting back on a work schedule, something I hope to keep on the road. Seeing as it’s bright inside the van as soon as the sun comes up, that shouldn’t be a problem.
Anyway, start expecting blog entries over at my other blog soon.
I watched Star Wars: Episode III last night.
It was the second time I’ve seen it.
It’s pretty bad.
The number one thing that was wrong with the new Star Wars movies? Total lack of character development. Han, Luke and Leia had soul.
The new movies move the plot along so fast no one has time to do anything but cry or fight.
Natalie Portman? She was a very interesting character in the first flick. She was reduced to Barbarella territory in the second. By three, she did nothing but cry and die.
Too much plot.
Not enough soul.
Also, Darth Vader’s first appearance, and you choose to shoot it like a monster movie, complete with James Earl yelling “Nooooooooooooo!” George, I love what you do, but buddy… come on.
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Sorry, I promise to stop writing about so much Star Wars.
