Upon Arrival in Salt Lake City

I have just arrived in Salt Lake City. Rather, Em, the Subaru (newly christened Rex), and myself have arrived in Salt Lake City. We drove from the California side of Tahoe, through Nevada (passing a whole five towns, probably), and into Utah. It's strange to be here. We arrived after dark, after discovering that this area is in a different time zone than the west coast, scanning the city for the Mormon temple (no such luck, must find it later).

We stopped in Wendover, Nevada--partially because it was the first town we came to after several hours of NOTHING in Nevada, partially because we couldn't stand being in the car any longer, and partially because we figured it was probably the last place we could gamble and drink before we hit Utah (based loosely on rough calculations and guessing as the pixelated map from Google maps showed nothing between Elko and Salt Lake City). We had a Budweiser ($1 schooner), collectively lost $4 on penny and nickel slots, and continued into Utah. Maybe it was the slight buzz or the hours of driving, but the earth became immediately unrecognizable. I don't know what Em was thinking but I felt as if the world had morphed into something complete alienupon entering the great state of Utah. It was a flat, white valley, with nearly nothing for as far as I could see. Disconcerting, to someone raised in the lush and mountainous Northwest. We had entered the salt flats, but it took a little reasoning to figure that out.

I have two days to spend here, and it most certainly will not be enough. This trip has revived my wanderlust--more specifically, to see more of this country. We drove through so many different landscapes, each stunning in its own right. I can't wait to see the island in the Great Salt Lake with the bison and the bighorn sheep (in the middle of a salt lake!? what kind of place is this?).

SLC- a voyage to the land of the Mormons and my birthplace

Instead of last minute packing and preparation and running around frantically, I sit down to write this. I'm leaving for Salt Lake City whenever Em arrives at my house, decrepit Subaru sagging under the weight of all her earthly possessions. I sit here, sleepy and sleep-deprived, surrounded by abundant food for several on-the-road meals.

We have hours of road-trip-to-Salt-Lake-City playlists (mine are titled "SLC Punk" and "SLC Punkier"--neither of which contain any punk), hours of books on tape (one about learning to meditate), hours of driving snacks, hours to hash over the future. I'm so excited for her: this new experience, in a new land. A true American adventure--and I'm along for the ride!

We will be stopping in Eugene to see Em's sister, then on to the Sierra Nevadas to rough it in the rustic cabin of a friend where we may or may not be attacked by bears, then to Tahoe to visit another friend, then on to Salt Lake City! I haven't been there in years. It is my birthplace and holds great significance for my parents. I can't wait to see it now, at this age, with this perspective. I wonder how I will feel--am I romanticizing it? This mysterious land, where my parents met, married, started a family and a life together. During my childhood, it was the stuff of myths, a fabled land of desert and adventure, a time before children. Also an oppressive land, perhaps, where my parents did not want to raise a daughter. I wonder: what would my life be like had we never left? Where would I be now? The question is too daunting. (And the answer obvious: I would have married a jack-mormon as Em will undoubtedly do!)

I'm certain she will arrive any moment now and not be pleased to see me blogging, ruminating on the topic of our impending trip and its implications with my bags half packed downstairs and my teeth half brushed.

I'm so excited. Giddy (lack of sleep?) to be on the road. I don't think I've ever been to Eugene, I've never been to a cabin in the Sierra Nevadas, never been to Tahoe. I wonder what I will find in Salt Lake City--but more importantly, what Em will find. Will it be a starting point for an entirely new life like it was for my parents? Just a blip on her journey elsewhere? I can't wait to see that Great Salt Lake!

Riding Upright

I feel as if my life has been tossed into the air by some unknown force and, as it comes floating back around me, it resembles what it was but not entirely. I guess what I mean is that I don't have a firm grasp of anything that's happening right now. I just got back from a three night camping/biking trip with Em and it is such a rude awakening to be back here in Seattle, working a new job, dealing with insurance companies, passively looking for a place to live, actively worrying about my graduate school plans.

I spent three nights on Lopez Island in the San Juan Islands. The trip was amazing. As with any adventure with Em, I was wholly unprepared in the traditional sense but ready for everything. I just got my bike fixed and hadn't spent much time on it since the accident, so I was a wee bit apprehensive. We parked in Anacortes (up and down a huge hill from the ferry), strapped everything to our bikes with the ten-plus bungee cords I brought, and biked, wove, and wobbled to the ferry. I had a large hangover from a small binge in Bellingham the night before, and barely made it up the hill from the ferry on Lopez.

The first day we biked around Lopez, with a short stop-over in Lopez Village to avoid the short rain shower. The island is wonderful for cycling: the roads are nicely paved and maintained, there aren't many cars, and drivers are careful and cautious around bikers. We did a 30+ mile loop, stopping at several parks. Nothing was hectic, everything was serene and beautiful. It was so relaxing to be in the woods with almost no one around.

The next day, Em and I took the ferry to San Juan Island and biked to the American Camp park. As it was a hot, late summer day, the logical decision was to go skinny dipping. Ideally, it would have been a quick dip in and out but the water was absolutely frigid so we had to slowly inch our way to an acceptable depth. When the water was just covering our knees, Em looked behind us to see if anyone was nearby. A middle-aged man with a ponytail was standing on the bluff taking our picture. Now, we both came to the conclusion that he was just some aging hippie trying to capture a picturesque moment with two attractive women skinny dipping against a breathtaking scene. However, the next time I turned around (maybe waist-deep in the water), he was directly behind us on the shore telling us to turn around so he could take a picture. Em firmly told him to leave; when he continued and threatened to take our clothes, she yelled at him. It was great--even greater, he listened. Creep. That annoyance aside, we submerged and quickly slogged back to the beach.

The next day was, unfortunately, the last day of the trip. We took a scenic ride around Lopez to a different park, Spencer Spit State Park, dawdled, then realized we would barely make it in time to catch the ferry. After an epic race back, we barely caught the ferry (per usual), found Em's car unticketed in Anacortes, drove back to Bellingham. Em is leaving Bellingham forever; with her, she takes my only reason to visit. I said goodbye to Bellingham for what will be the last time in a long time, I'm sure. It's sad. The end of an era even more than when I left, perhaps.

It was difficult to come back to reality but I'm making it. Things will surely begin to fall into place soon.