(‘excerpts from the longest drive to date’. or, ‘written whilst driving’.)
The subject line is a direct quote from my darling sister’s mouth. Allow me to explain.
We left San Francisco at 7:45am, a bit later than the compromise we’d decided on the night before of 7:30. See, I’d prefer 6am, Jan would prefer 9am. But I’d Google-mapped the distance and knew our upcoming trek would be about 12 hours. We agreed on 7:30.
Anyways. So, we left S.F. at 7:45. (Shout out to Kev-Dawg for the Californian hospitality!) Now, I realize that a bridge is a bridge, but still. I was thankful not to be from S.F. because the two-minute drive over the Golden Gate Bridge was unreal. Seen so many times in movies and tv, it was like: Wow, we’re actually driving on the Golden Gate Bridge. If we lived there and grew up with it, it definitely wouldn’t have been as cool as it was, no matter how brief.
We’re back on Hwy 1 (not I-5 through the middle of the state, but back on the curvy, two-lane road snaking up the coast). We have lunch at a place in Fort Bragg called Glass Beach. Legend has it the locals used to dump all their garbage into the ocean to the north of the city. The ocean then, serendipitously, washed all the waste back onto their beach. Ha polluters, take that! We were told there would be all of this rubbish beached upon the sand and that we could find handfuls of sea glass—regular glass from Coke bottles, for example, that had been washed over so long it was smooth and stone-like instead of jagged and sharp. The beach wasn’t exactly what we expected. No mounds of trash, no handfuls of sea glass. BUT. We did spend about thirty minutes searching for worthy pieces, and found plenty of acceptable fragments.
After the beach, we pick up Hwy 101 and we pray for a straight road where we can make up time. The spiraling, mountainous journey is getting a bit tedious. We’re both sick to our stomachs, we’re tired of driving 30mph to avoid careening off a cliff. Unfortunately 101 is much the same, except a watery death has now been replaced by one from hungry giant redwoods waiting below. We make it to Eureka, thankful the road is finally straightening out, and gas up.
This is where Jan figures out that my estimated Portland arrival time is not very accurate. She exclaims, “Crap! Bub, it’s seven hours still from Eureka to Portland.” This is at about 3pm. We’ve been driving for over seven hours already. We’re not even to Oregon yet. Whoops. Apparently my 12-hour estimate was if we’d been on I-5, which we hadn’t, and we weren’t planning on for a while. We’re now looking at about 15 hours. A bit of frustration and panic begin to set in. The Tuckfields are waiting for us in Portland! With cookies!! Fresh. Baked. Cookies!!! We’re still seven hours away. AND, the road is about to get all warped and twisted again. And it’s raining now.
The final two and a half hours of California roads are a grueling test of endurance. We pass the Redwoods in a blink; they were, um, tall? Sorry guys, maybe next time? We’ve been driving on CA highways for almost 800 miles and we’re just about done? I have to pee really bad and Jana’s stomach still hurts?
A celebration erupts in the car when we get to the WELCOME TO OREGON sign. Finally. New State Day! (Oregon marks the 12th state) We get the Tuckfields on the phone, explain our predicament. Kym soothes us with promises of warm cookies, and then she said the only thing that is propelling us to Portland (actually propelling Jan, I really couldn’t care less). Kym promises that she’s already planning on staying up late because she wants to see the Royal Wedding!!! 1: I’m relieved because I didn’t want them waiting up for us. 2: Jana is relieved because all week she’s been scheming how to watch this whole ordeal of a production on television and every time I’ve been like, no that’s dumb.
[Insert selected quote from above]
We’re now about two hours from Portland, barreling down the darkened I-5. (We’d also like to thank President Eisenhower for his straight, fast, and efficient Interstate Road System.) I have to pee again, but Jan has a wedding to catch. Guess I’ll dig one of the empty bottles out of the back seat…
In other news: We just passed our 5,000th mile. Go, baby, go.
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