After leaving Reno for San Francisco, the real trip began (apart from the various forms of hallucinations caused by driving through Wyoming at night while all Amp-ed up and Rockstar-ed out). According to our friend Mikey (who graciously allowed us to stay in her guest bedroom) the drive is about two and a half to three hours. It took us seven. First inadvertent stop: the California agricultural checkpoint. Apparently this state is so close to becoming its own nation (look for the CA secession sometime in the not so distant future followed by an utterly ridiculous war between blue and red in a theatre of combat near you) that it needs its own customs agency. I'm not sure what they were looking for, but we had a freshly packed bowl sitting in the dash just asking to be smoked just inside the state of Calimania. They didn't find it (probably an agricultural product that leaves the state more often). What they did find was a trunk/backseat packed to the brim with all of Ssack's stuff. The kid in the orange vest that stopped us looked all bug eyed and asked us to open the back window as an avalanche of sleeping materials and backpacks came tumbling out. After nicely putting it back and closing it up, he sent us on our merry way.
The second stop was wholly necessary. Welcome to Loomis, CA. There is an eggplant festival in Loomis. There is an old Japanese woman in Loomis. There is a family barber in Loomis. And as far as we could tell there is only one hot girl in Loomis, but that's all Loomis really needs.
Outside of Sacramento we attempted, on a whim, to attend Six Flags Discovery Kingdom amusement park, but were shunned at the gates to the parking lot. As a substitute I indulged in a bag of Frito's Scoops and some Frito's Bean Dip. Thrilling nonetheless.
Almost there. Berkeley, that fantasy of every nerdy pseudo-neo-hippy. The student body certainly did resemble this crowd. Pretty town, not the mecca it once was (then again neither is Boulder).
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After walking about 20 miles on Thursday, we depart from San Francisco slightly hungover and adjusting to the lack of altitude. Chex Mix and chocolate milk for breakfast. Once across the Golden Gate bridge, we decide to hop on the Pacific Coast Highway to finally gaze upon the majestic Pacific Ocean. After wading in the shallows of the beach and soaking our jeans (Susan! Pay attention) we observe a sign declaring: Contact with the water is not recommended. The State of California has found levels of bacteria that may be harmful to the human organism. So now they tell us (hey maybe it will kill the scabes, or at least challenge them to a no holds barred battle). We check for signs of infection, find none, and move on. The PCH was beautiful, miles of coastline, cliffs, beaches, and tourists. We ate the most amazing crabcake sandwiches and payed $3.35 a gallon for gas. We glanced at our watches and decided that it was time to head for the more direct route to Portland, OR. We find a path over the mountains (hills) to the 101 on a map at a local gas station, and it was on to Booneville. As it turns out, road maps neglect to show altitudes and the 27 mile trek turns into an hour long ascent of 16% grades and tried not to imagine what this road would be like with snow on it. After a brief cigarette stop to let the brakes cool, we finally made it to the highway. I wish I had taken a photo of it, because just before entering the freeway we saw a sign showing that we were only 111 miles from San Francisco. We had travelled these 111 miles in just about six hours. So much for the scenic route. Needless to say, we didn't make anymore unnecessary pit stops and decided to truck on to Porkland non-stop.
The redwoods were gorgeous outlines of black on black. At one point, while winding through a sketchy part of the 101 with these massive trees literally two and a half feet from the side mirror I decided that Mike Patton needs his own haunted house. This was around dusk while Mr. Bungle blasted the speakers and I wound around thousand foot trees at dusk. These creepy little tourist traps lined the road and beckoned us to stop and have our heads lopped off by a chainsaw. Hey Mike, if you're reading this, think about it and get back to me, perhaps we can get something together for Halloween 2008.
After dropping down into Crescent City, CA the fun really begins. According to our route we are all set to hop over to the Interstate in Reedsport, OR. As it turns out the state of Oregon strongly discourages travelling across their state through the night. Apparently it is against the law in this backward state to pump your own gas. As we roll into the sleepy little town of Reedsport at 2 AM on empty, this brutal realization is brought to our attention. Nothing is open and the pumps are inevitably locked down. A friendly night stocker at the local Safeway tells us that there may or may not be a 24 hour gas station 22 miles in the direction we came from. So we head back South on the 101 praying to the Lord of Fossil Fuels that the little orange light on the gas gauge will hold out for a little bit longer. We barely crest the top of the bridge that brings us into Coos Bay and coast the rest of the way to the gas station, where the attendant cheerfully tops off our fumes and helps us add some oil to the tune of a three dollar tip. If I was a resident of this fucking place, I would write my state Representative and tell them how inconvenient this law is for me.
After sleeping in the car in some parking lot in Portland and being woken up by Earth Intruders (you guys know what I'm talking about when I say Savland, right?), we head up to Mt. Saint Helens. This mountain reportedly discharged its hot lava goo all over the Pac Northwest. I wouldn't know, we drove around for a few hours and never actually saw the mountain. We did however see Ape's Cave. Well I guess see is too strong of a word, apparently you need a flashlight to go spelunking. Who knew?
So here I am. Day 10 (almost). Ssack doesn't have a place and I'm ready to go to Kanada. Wish us luck because I'm not sure how much longer the back axle on the 4Runner is going to last with his entire life back there. Peace Love Happiness to you all.
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