Backtrack
For the first time in four months I recognize a vaguely remembered feeling: boredom. Insidious beast. John and I celebrated the four-month anniversary of the trip with a glass of expensive scotch at the Coronado Hotel here in San Diego two days ago. Today, he left for Charlottesville, and here I am, alone in my brother’s apartment, clocking in 10 hours on the computer looking at job listings, hotel listings (Vegas, baby), blog listings, and finally, The OC episode guide. It’s a cheap throwback to working in a cube eight endless hours of the day. Being stationary for so long (six days now, and five more to go until John flies back here to me) has created a drag effect. Which isn’t to say we haven’t had a wonderful time in SD, but … well, being in one place for a week is reminding me that we’ll soon be back in DC, for an unknown number of weeks. The trip is officially only 4/5 over, but in our mental landscape of America, it’s a lot closer to the finish. Perhaps you see more than you’re capable of taking in, so you stop taking things in. Perhaps I’m just a bit melancholy. Or perhaps, realistically, we’re just shifting back into the necessary headspace to end this thing. In any case, some combination of factors (nasty hangovers included) left me without the energy and curiosity that have been the hallmarks of daily existence on our journey. Time to give myself a kick in the pants. We begin with some overdue photos, if our dallying hasn’t lost us all our readers altogether.
Here’s s my mom picking grapes in Grandpa Dixon’s garden in Spokane – soon to be jelly
Here we are making apple cider on the antique cider press with Aunt Heidi and Uncle Stacey’s grapes and apples
Between Spokane and Portland, we drove west along the Columbia River (it more or less forms a border between Washington and Oregon), stopping in Columbia Hills State Park on the WA side to camp one windy night. This photo gives a good sense of the high desert climate of eastern and central WA (betcha didn’t know it looked like this in the Pacific NW). It’s sweepingly gorgeous, and a little daunting.
After Portland (where we stupidly didn’t take any pictures), we made our way to the coast and began our descent along the Pacific. Here are the Oregon dunes, some of which reach up to 400 feet high, grabbing at the ocean.
After hiking through subtropical rainforest and climbing over the expansive dunes, we came to this beach (see below). It was littered with disembodies jellyfish, like little gooey eyeballs.
The beach is so flat here that the water creeps up the sand for hundreds of feet beyond where thes wave break.
Lumberjack John in the redwoods (under Paul Bunyan’s left foot). Now we're in California.
This is a very big tree (over 20 ft. in diameter and formerly 368 ft. high – the top fell off a few years ago and now it’s something like 250 ft.)
These trees are about 300 ft. tall
Spotlight on Brinkman
Sexy Beast #2
Here I am trying to relive the successes of my youth. This is the beach just past where Route 1 first meets the ocean, and where we met Dusty Miles. John’s a pretty ace shot, eh?
Here are John and his aunt Pat, extended family member #1!
John and Pat on the cliffs over the ocean
Next up: San Francisco, LA, and San Diego.
Here’s s my mom picking grapes in Grandpa Dixon’s garden in Spokane – soon to be jelly
Here we are making apple cider on the antique cider press with Aunt Heidi and Uncle Stacey’s grapes and apples
Between Spokane and Portland, we drove west along the Columbia River (it more or less forms a border between Washington and Oregon), stopping in Columbia Hills State Park on the WA side to camp one windy night. This photo gives a good sense of the high desert climate of eastern and central WA (betcha didn’t know it looked like this in the Pacific NW). It’s sweepingly gorgeous, and a little daunting.
After Portland (where we stupidly didn’t take any pictures), we made our way to the coast and began our descent along the Pacific. Here are the Oregon dunes, some of which reach up to 400 feet high, grabbing at the ocean.
After hiking through subtropical rainforest and climbing over the expansive dunes, we came to this beach (see below). It was littered with disembodies jellyfish, like little gooey eyeballs.
The beach is so flat here that the water creeps up the sand for hundreds of feet beyond where thes wave break.
Lumberjack John in the redwoods (under Paul Bunyan’s left foot). Now we're in California.
This is a very big tree (over 20 ft. in diameter and formerly 368 ft. high – the top fell off a few years ago and now it’s something like 250 ft.)
These trees are about 300 ft. tall
Spotlight on Brinkman
Sexy Beast #2
Here I am trying to relive the successes of my youth. This is the beach just past where Route 1 first meets the ocean, and where we met Dusty Miles. John’s a pretty ace shot, eh?
Here are John and his aunt Pat, extended family member #1!
John and Pat on the cliffs over the ocean
Next up: San Francisco, LA, and San Diego.
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