Tag Archives: Wyoming

It isn’t “Fly-Over Country”

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I’ve lived in Wyoming. And Colorado. But also Nebraska. So I take issue with a common term for the middle of our country. It is not “fly-over country.” People live there. And their lives have just as much meaning as yours.

It may not feel like an insult. You see where you live as important. And you are flying to New York. The big cities are important. Calling a huge part of our nation “fly-over country” is rude.

It paints the landscape as having no value. But the small places have value. As do the people who live in those towns. Their lives may seem small to you. But this is because you don’t know these people. Their lives are just like yours.

I spent a lot of time in Colorado working. But also getting to know people. I met teachers in schools doing their best for kids. And I met the moms and dads. They cared about kids, about the future. They worked hard to earn a living. But also took time for youth sports. These people didn’t dream of a life someplace else. In one of the big important cities. They invested in their home.

I don’t know how many artists I met in Colorado. The man who started his own cafe. So many friends helping each other. They faced the same fears as you. There were friends with cancer. Some had died. Leaders had plans to make life better. And the work of daily life was done. All of these lives have value.

I remember the woman at the pet store. Where I got Baby Girl her food. The health food store with its staff. The markets like all markets in the country.

In Wyoming I met a rancher. He cared about the land. Talking to him he shared the best way to raise cattle. It was about helping the cows to graze the land wisely. He didn’t want to destroy natures resources. His plan created a balance, and he earned a profit. At the school was a counselor. A caring and thoughtful woman. Like the rancher, she cared. But her concern was kids. And her warmth was touching.

This was in the small town of Douglas. It had a small health food store. The woman who ran it was active in the community. She was a part of a small group which monitored the school board. Because they cared about kids. Where they lived was home. And it was important.

I wasn’t in Wyoming long. But one snowy day a friend I didn’t know gave me a ride. It had snowed so deep I couldn’t move my car. It wasn’t a far walk home. But someone saw me walking and stopped. How many places do people stop for strangers in the snow.

While in Wyoming I went to a meeting of the local Republican party. It was a small group. There was a mix of people, mostly older. They shared real concern for values. The men and women weren’t a rich crowd. They were workers. People who cared enough to be a part of the process. These people are the rock on which our country sits. It is easy to believe the other is evil. But this isn’t true. Liberals are not evil. And conservatives are not evil. They just disagree.

In Nebraska I got to know more people. I had a crush on the cute wife of the mayor. She was friendly. When we met she wanted to talk about me. There was the newspaper man. He started his own paper after leaving the big paper. It wasn’t perfect. But he did his best to run the paper and website. The news was a lot of crime stories. But he also covered the schools. And he did it mostly alone.

Like Wyoming there was a local group. Every place has its activists. People who care about the community enough to raise their voice. They aren’t loved by all. But they make America the land we love. The one in Nebraska focused on taxes. They went to meetings and wrote to the newspaper. They had an agenda. It was to make their homes better. And while you may disagree with their views. I think you should respect their passion.

North Platte had an annual event, which was a big deal. The Walk A Mile In Her Shoes event was big. It happens in many places around the country. It is about ending rape and violence against women. In North Platte you would find many men walking in women’s shoes. The list included the mayor, the chief of police and sheriff. These are men who care.

I got to know some beauty queens. The often mocked women are smart women. And it isn’t all about beauty. It is about dreams and values. I got to talk with Miss Nebraska. And her charm won me over. She cared about teaching science to kids. The education of girls was a deep value for her. And one fun story I did was about beauty queens trying to bowl.

It is easy to look out the window of the plane at look down at these people. Next time drive across the county. When you look across at them you see them as real people. Because they are real people. The middle of America is an amazing place full of amazing people. If you haven’t taken the time to visit. It is your loss.

Borders

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There were so many borders. He crossed the Sierra’s and ran out of gas. Down the backside he coasted. Then hours later it was the state line. An ocean of desert to be crossed. More mountains and miles and miles of road. But those were borders.

The real border was the front door. The end of the drive way. The day he told her he was moving. The real border came weeks before as he accepted the job. The far away job. Or the day he applied, wanting to be far away from her. The borders were crossed in his heart. Many times, and many times he came back. Would he return to her love again?

The cat slept on his lap as he drove. The radio playing a Lucy Kaplansky song about the road. Clearly she had also done travel at night. Her magical voice was holding him tonight. The music was a hug. The cat slept peacefully at last in the car. But it wasn’t an easy start for her. She cried and cried and cried. Like he wanted to cry and cry and cry. Maybe they both missed her. And all these years later he wonders if Baby Girl misses her like he does, at night, alone.

But maybe no being could miss another in the same way.

Years before he lived in Yosemite. When not crossing the high mountain trails he wrote. So much sad poetry and prose. So many long and pointless hours of cutting his own wrist with a pen. Bleeding onto the page, onto the screen. Into the snow, cold and unwatched. But he crossed a border in the park. It was the place where he learned to let M go. He moved beyond. And beyond he remained until he returned from Wyoming. And then borders were crossed again. There was no on in his heart for him for so long. Now she had crossed into his love.

Nevada is a land of barren beauty. A place unique and magical in a sparse way. Maybe one day he’ll live in a hermit shack off a dirt road in Eureka. Not the left-leaning town on the California coast. The dusty town hanging to the side of a mountain in Nevada. He passed through the town on this trip. And later trips. But tonight it was just a moment on the road. How many moments on our roads we pass through blindly. But for someone else the moment is dear. The moment lasts in memory. The touch lingers like a kiss on wet lips.

How many borders did he cross driving in the night. And in the heat of the next day. His heart had for so long been barren like the desert. Empty, uncrossed by human love. At least this is how it felt to him at times. But she was there like a dream. A well in the middle of the vast plain. Driving he crossed state lines. He crossed county lines and city lines. And each line was a step further from the one he couldn’t cross away from tonight.

Even after the granite valley of Yosemite. The strange orange land of south Utah. Through the dark of night and the heat of day. In Utah the temperature drove the cat to seek a place to hide. And she didn’t mind being wet for once. Like he was learning the lessons of having a wet heart. But he could never find a place to hide. The heat was so strong between them at one moment. It burned like the sun on his alabaster heart. And now he was peeling. One of his borders was slipping away into dust around him.

Maybe it didn’t have to be this way. Maybe it couldn’t be any other way. A voice inside told him to turn back. Cross back to safety. The comfort of her heart. But the clear sad truth was this border couldn’t be crossed anymore. He could cross Nevada. And later even crossed it in a snow storm. But the storms and the cold winds of live were driving them now. And each on a different current. The land he drove across was once at the bottom of the sea. In a time which feels so far away now. But years from now, across other borders so will today. The feelings, the journey, the borders crossed. It will fade as a memory. But she will never fade.

The Long Trip Home

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In the next few weeks I crossed much of the west. From North Dakota. Down to Arizona. And west to California.

News was breaking and I wanted to see. In North Dakota the river was flooding. So I made my way there to write a story. When I got there I spoke with some local news teams. I had hoped to write something freelance. But it didn’t work out. Being a new reporter I imagined things would come to me in a way I soon discovered was wrong.

I did get a Labor Ready job though. It was with the city of Moorehead. Inside a large warehouse I helped stack sandbags to be delivered. I worked with the city for a number of days. At the end they suggested I apply for a job. It was a good area. An area I could see myself going back to live. But not at the time.

The flooding had caused havoc along a long part of the river. This was the Red River of the North. Not to be confused with the one along northern Texas border. This one runs north along the Dakotas and Minnesota. This being one of the flattest parts of the country. When the river flooded, it spread out fast.

While I was in Fargo I slept in my car. There was an all-night coffee shop. It had free wifi, so this is where I used the internet. In general Fargo was a friendly college town.

While in the area I took a side trip into Minnesota. The Mississippi River begins not far from Fargo. And I wanted to see the headwaters of the great river. To see its humble origin. By this time I had given up on writing a news story. And my Labor Ready job was winding down. It looked like it would be time for me to leave soon. I couldn’t be so close and not make the trip.

Finding the birth place of the river was easy. Up a small paved path from a parking lot was a small lake. The outflow of this lake was maybe 15 feet wide. But if you dropped a twig in it, the twig could float all the way to the ocean. It would go down the longest river in the country. When you think of how important the river is to our nation. And how long, and wide it becomes. It enters the world in a obscure park, when I was there there were few visitors.

After this short trip I started back west. I wanted to make a stop at Mount Rushmore. I’d been there before. But I wanted to see it again. It was a bit of a race against time. To get there before it got dark. But I made it, speeding across the Dakotas. There isn’t much to see in these states. But seeing Mount Rushmore is an experience. And I saw the monument to Crazy Horse off in the distance and fog while driving. But it was dark, and the park was closed.

After stopping in Wyoming I started back for California. I had graduated but hadn’t done a ceremony. Since I had free time I wanted to be there to walk with my friends. When I got back to Arcata I thought I would stay for the week. But then I got a short-term job and fell in love in a long-term way. So plans changed.

There was an adventure along my path back to Arcata. From Wyoming I drove south to Boulder. It is such a magical place for me. I spent a couple days in town. And I hiked to the top of the Flat Irons. I didn’t plan on staying in town. Though I always think about staying every time I visit. One day I may move to Boulder and stay to live for a while. But this wasn’t the time to think about such a move. In the past I’d taken the northern route from Boulder to California. This time I took the southern route.

It went through the high mountains, and along route 70. I drove right through Vail, a place where I would soon be living. Though I didn’t know it at the time. I got off the freeway and drove along the route I drove many times later in my life. The mountains are amazing, still covered in snow at the tops. I couldn’t have gone to Yellowstone on this trip because of the weather. But the road through the Rockies was clear.

Moving out of Colorado into Utah I found an amazing landscape. There are few words to really tell people what it looked like in front of me. It looked like an alien landscape. It was orange. The rolling land was broken by deep canyons. The colour made me feel like I was on another planet. Like Mars, but it wasn’t red. The ground had little life. Looking around I couldn’t imagine I was still on earth. It was beautiful in a way which I’d never imagined. I had no clue such a place even existed. All my trips through Utah were in the north. And it has its own beauty. But it is flat and grey, and white. Nothing like the striking deep colours of the San Rafael Reef. This magical place was formed under the ground. After being pushed to the surface it was eroded by many floods. These formed the deep canyons and mesas of the area.

Coming west my goal was Arcata. But I had yet another short adventure.

I went to visit my family in Stockton. I’d talked to mother about a trip to see my brother in Arizona. I asked if she could afford to pay for the gas, and I would drive. We took the route through the desert of Nevada. Because I love Nevada. Even though I got a speeding ticket on this trip. It was a smooth drive down. We stopped for the night a couple hours from Phoenix. It was a cheap little hotel in a small town. The bed was comfy enough for me to sleep. Even if the towels didn’t match each other. Mother pointed this fact out.

Once in Phoenix we spent a couple days with my brother. This was the first time in a number of years I’d seen my brother. He was well. We took a hike on one of the mountains in town. But it was hot there, and Mother wanted to return. On the drive back we stopped at the Grand Canyon. I’d also been here a couple years before with my father. I wasn’t sure if Mother had seen the canyon. Either way it seemed like a waste to drive so near and not stop.

The good news about the return trip was I didn’t get a tickets. Some of those small towns have slow speed limits. But we also made a stop in Reno on the way home. Mother’s sisters live there – and yes I know they are my aunts. But I don’t know them at all. So, they are my mother’s sisters. After visiting for a couple hours we made our way home. We drove along the scenic Lake Tahoe.

After leaving Mother in Stockton I made my way home to Arcata. I think we may have many homes in this world. If this is true, my heart will always be at home in Arcata. And Santa Cruz, Yosemite, Boulder.

Like I said. My plan was to walk in the ceremony. Then leave town. And yes my plans got turned around and I stayed for about two years.

My First Real Job

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I’ve never been more hopeful. I had a degree and I was ready to find a job. It didn’t take long either. It was a bit of a shock. I had a theory about getting experience working in small papers. I’d go out to the middle of the country, where there would be fewer job seekers. So the first job I landed was in Wyoming.

It is funny in a way. The job wasn’t far from a small town I had visited on my travels. Where I lived and worked was bigger. But not much, it was still small. But I am getting ahead of myself.

I located the job through a website. Applying for a job in the middle of the country was hard. But I knew I could do it, because of my travels. The first step after landing the job was buying a car. The car I purchased and still own is a Santa Fe. I got it from a dealership in Stockton. And it has been a good fit for me. But first I had to fit all my things into it for the move. It turned into a rolling brick.

Since I had a drive ahead of me anyway, and some time, I made a few stops. One was in Santa Cruz where I still have dear friends. I was off on the next adventure in my life and I wanted to share. One friend in Santa Cruz has been there for a lot of my adventures: at least in spirit. And I didn’t know how long I would be gone.

The next stop was in Stockton to see family. When I drove out of the state I imagined it could be years before I returned. But it wasn’t. The drive itself didn’t get interesting until halfway through Nevada. It started to snow. And I didn’t have chains. And I didn’t care. Because I wasn’t going to stop. It was getting dark and traffic was light. As I drove the snow got deeper.

Entering Utah there were a few trunks which had slid off the road. Someone hadn’t made it where they were going. At some point I stopped and walking around in the snow it was clear it was deep. In the gas station parking lot it was about six inches. And there was a good base of ice. But I pushed ahead and got back on the road.

As I drove through the night it kept snowing. And I assume it was getting deeper. Passing through Salt Lake City was fine. But the mountains to the east were a bit scary. This was the first point I felt could be dangerous. But I had come this far and didn’t want to stop. It may have been worse to stop. I only recall seeing one car over night. It was a utility truck which passed me a couple times. Each time driving even faster than I.

The next morning I entered Wyoming. As it got light the snow cleared. And I started to drive faster. But I found out soon enough I road wasn’t cleared yet. Driving through Rock Springs I got cut off by a semi-driver. I braked too hard and spun around toward the side of the road. Clever driving and good luck meant I didn’t go off the road. But I stopped facing the wrong direction.

My arrival in Douglas was in the late morning. I’d already lined up a place to live and had to get the key from work.

After landing the job I asked if they would run an ad for me. Just stating I was looking for a place to live. Soon I got a call from someone. They told me they lived in a duplex and the other unit was empty. They were not the landlord, but gave me the number. When I contacted the landlord though he had no clue. “Empty unit,” he said shocked, “which one.” After talking about it he agreed to check it out. And if it was empty I could rent it. I never did meet him, I paid rent by putting it into his account at the bank.

The job itself was so new for me. It was my first newsroom and I don’t feel like I started out fast. But I was starting to get my feet under me. Then I got laid off. There may have been two factors. One was a bank stopped running an ad. And because of this they couldn’t afford my salary. My $10 an hour salary. But, a second factor was a small error I had made in a story.

I had been covering the county government. The county chose to use a different bank for its business. One of the reasons given was the other bank was bigger, and the person talked about the banks deposits. When I wrote the story I failed to contact the bank the county had quit using. This was the same bank which dropped the ad. And while I was told it wasn’t in response. My editor did say, “it probably didn’t help.” The complaint they had when contacting me was simple and true. In the store the county official had put the bank is some doubt. And I should have contacted the old bank to let them counter.

It was a learning experience.

Wyoming is a beautiful state. I wasn’t there long enough. The weather was cold and snowy. One day it snowed so much while I was at work, I walked home. It wasn’t far. It was easier than trying to dig out my car. In this case it was a rental. My car was in the shop after I backed into a small wall. Another time the weather called for snow. I woke up early and went out to clear the snow. But there wasn’t any.

Going back inside, I relaxed. Taking my time I ate breakfast, watched the news and got ready. About 30 minutes later I walked outside to nine inches of snow on my car. I was aghast. And it wasn’t just snowy. It got cold. One morning I remember trying to get the ice off my window. But as I scraped one side. I could look over and see the side already scrapped re-freezing.

There are miles of back roads in the middle of the country. Miles and miles of dirt roads. And I love to drive on them. My car works great because it is small enough for some pretty slim roads. But it has good clearance. And it is light. Once I was on a dirt road going at a good pace. I zoomed through some mud. Then some snow patches. And then I came up to a turn. The snow and ice weren’t a problem if I could just keep moving through them. They weren’t large. But this turn was covered in deep snow. I got stuck. No cellphone reception. And the idea of walking miles to the road wasn’t appealing. But, since my car is light I was able to dig the snow out of the way. Then I pushed my car out of the snow.

Douglas is a small town. Supported by coal and ranching. It claims to be the home of the Jackalope. It has a Safeway, and wanted a Walmart. Many people talk about Walmart and the death of small town business. But people around Douglas shopped at Walmart already. They just drove further to Casper.

When I moved to Wyoming I believed I was getting my life started. I changed my address and my phone number. My old cell service wouldn’t cover where I lived, so I switched. I got a TV and purchased TV, phone and internet services. When I lost my job it was like a giant balloon deflating. I felt defeated. It may have not been my fault. But I was broke. I was alone. And without a job I had few options. My things went into storage in Cheyenne. It sits on the cross country interstate. The next step in my life was a mystery to me. But I imagined I would get another job. And wanted my things to be easy to pick up. But it was also easy to drop off.

Maybe if I had been in a larger town I would have stayed. Maybe a lot of things could have been done different. But I just gave up. Really I didn’t even look for another job. And I didn’t think I’d be able to afford my rent. Living in a car in the cold of Wyoming doesn’t work like it does in California.

Leaving Douglas I was off on a new adventure. North Dakota was flooding and I wanted to be near the action.

Arcata

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Moving to Arcata felt like a bold change. But it was daring and fun. The last time I had made such a move was 1998. I didn’t know anyone in Arcata. And in 1998 when I moved to Portland I knew no one. But at least I had school. And soon I hoped to find a job.

I remember the first days of orientation. When I am in a new group of people I do a set of things. One is I try not to talk about myself. I’ve had bad reactions from new people. Maybe bad isn’t the right term. But when people find you’ve traveled they treat you different. There is an idea you might be different.

I guess one example would be when I went home to the mountains. This was a few years before I moved to Arcata. I was with Mother and at her friend’s house. I’d been listening and paying attention passively. But at some point her friend said, “I guess you think you’re special since you’ve been to all these places.” This has never been true. I’ve never gone anywhere which made me a different person. Never lived anywhere which changed me. Even Yosemite. I’d always been a person who loved nature. And this part of myself grew while in the park. But it wasn’t a change.

So, I try to avoid myself as a topic. Besides I am much more curious about others. And you only find out about others if you listen. This relates to the problem above. If people feel like you are different they may not want to share. They may feel like you’ve seen so much and you don’t want to listen. But this isn’t true for me. I love to listen to the stories people tell. This is one of the things I love the most about news.

The only person I recall from orientation a cute girl named Monique. She was an odd one though. We are still friends today. Her role was to help new people get to know the school. And the help them feel comfortable. She did her role well. I always felt comfortable with her. During my years at Humboldt we were good friends. And I miss talking to her often. But she was set in her ways. We didn’t live far apart and I recall a debate about the best way to walk to school. Well, there was her way and the wrong way. I usually took the wrong way. But if I wanted to walk with her I had to take her way. Maybe I was set in my ideas too. Soon after I met her, she laid out a plan for her life. The age of her wedding was set. The ages of her first and second children also set. And I smiled. Because it was perfect. And she found out life isn’t perfect. Thinking about her now I wonder if I took her friendship at the time for granted. I’ve done this before.

The experience of school will be a chapter of its own. But I loved my time at Humboldt State.

Living with Rose was curious. And while she was an amazing woman, it didn’t last. After a couple months events pushed us apart. I was focused on classes and work. While there was a point I had thought we could be more than friends. Many things were happening which made it feel like it wasn’t an option. The apartment we rented was from a management company. So when it came time to move I called and asked what they had to rent. Looking for places in Arcata isn’t easy. Like many college towns there are few places and many faces. In the end I posted an ad looking for a roommate. I knew the company would rent to me if I could find a roommate. It worked. And I moved to a new apartment. Rose and I stayed friends and spent time together after I moved. But she was dealing with her own issues at the time. We are still friends today.

The new apartment was a better place. It was closer to school and work. We moved in during the winter. My roommate got a job at the same store I worked at in town. It was one of the local health food stores. Working at Wildberries was something I enjoyed. In an odd way, the only job I can compare it too is working at Walmart. I worked hard, I was dependable and I did a good job. Until things changed and they let me go. In the future I’ll talk more about work. But while some of it was an immature attitude on my part. It is also true I believe I had real concerns. The biggest of which was my own health. And losing the job cost me dearly. But in the end it was better for me. The next job I took was with Long’s Drugs. It is a funny story because they were hiring for overnights. And I applied for the job. But before I got it I went in to talk to them. I’d told them I changed my mind because of the shift. I didn’t think I could do school and over-nights. They told me they’d hire me anyway.

The town of Arcata is a neat place. It took me a while to get into the community. But it is one of the places I wish I could be forever. While I lived there I never owned a car. While there are buses. It is also small enough to walk basically everywhere. At the center of the town is The Plaza. Around the plaza was a couple bars where locals and students drank. In the years I lived in Arcata I went into the bars less than ten times.

But having lived in Yosemite it was the parks I loved. It has a community forest with miles of trails. And some of my first memories are of hiking in the woods. I did this often for the years I lived in Arcata. But there was also a marsh. It sat along side the bay, and just south of town. Both the marsh and the forest were within walking distance of the center of town. I did a lot of walking. Most of it alone.

I got the job at Wildberries soon after getting to Arcata. It was the summer, and one year later I lost the job. It didn’t help my roommate also moved out during the summer. I guess I am a poor roommate. Because my next roommate also moved out over the summer. Though in her case it was in part due to wanting to live with a boyfriend. They had met and I allowed him to stay with us. But I didn’t date anyone in Arcata. There was one date with a girl. But it felt so awkward. Women make me feel more and more awkward the older I get. After the first date we didn’t even talk. Another woman told me we wouldn’t be a good match because of my blog at the time. I was going through a time when I focused on celebrity gossip a lot. I remember the day Lindsay Lohan crashed her car. I spent the whole day online reading and blogging. Looking back I feel it was silly. But also a silly reason to not even want to meet someone. I also miss being so active with news and blogging. Even if it was just celebrity news and gossip.

There wasn’t much of a break between the two times I lived in Arcata. But the tone of each period was different. During the first period I was in school. I was focused and working and had little time or concern for much else. There were moments when I was deeply lonely. Even though I had good people around me. It is part of my nature not to be open with people. And I think this makes it harder for me to create bonds with others. The kind of bonds where you call someone just to talk about a bad day. It was school and work which kept me moving. And distracted.

Most of the friends I have on Facebook are from this time. Mostly because I this is when I got on the site. It had been the case before where you had to use a real name. And until recently I’ve never used my real name online. I had been using the internet for years. Even since I was at Bethany. And the common practice on most sites was to use a handle – not a real name. I also think college is a unique space. One easy for friendship. And Humboldt is a small college.

I’ve now been on Facebook for a number of years. And have added more friends. A good number from my first years in college. And I have only un-friended four people. Three of them being people who were too close to me. One was a pervert.

When it came time to leave Arcata I gave away most of my things. I had bought the car I still own. Moving to Wyoming would be a big move. Taking a lot of stuff with me wasn’t an option. I packed as much as I could into the car. Then after making a stop in Stockton and Santa Cruz left the state. The car was a rolling brick.

Where am I going

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The first thing about where I am going. Is where I have been.

Years ago I traveled across the country with a friend. It was a great trip and adventure. But important to my future? I didn’t think so at the time. One of the places I stopped was a small town in Wyoming. There was a festival going on in town.

When I graduated from college I looked for my first job. And I got hired in the same part of Wyoming. Now the trip felt like it was important. Being out there and seeing the land. It wasn’t some place I had never been. A place in a land far away. It was still far away. And it was still new. But I felt a little more comfortable with the move.

Going on the trip with my friend, I had no clue. The idea of going back to college wasn’t even on my mind. But somehow the pieces of my life came together for me anyway.

So where am I now. I work at Walmart. I live in Vancouver. The reason I am here is another friend from years ago. We met at work. Then became good friends. When I was getting tired of being in Texas she said I could come and live with her. She and her boyfriend and their kids live in Vancouver. So I moved out here and got a job with Walmart.

When I was in Upstate New York I had applied for Walmart. But they didn’t hire me then. This time they were opening a new store, and maybe they needed more people. The hiring process was also different than it had been years ago. Working at CVS for years gave me experience also. The first time I worked for CVS was in Upstate New York.

So where am I going from here. I still have a few dreams in my life. There is the dream of having my own newspaper. It would be a small paper with a small but strong staff. And it would be in a small community where the paper could be a part of the community discussion. Maybe where I am now is helping me to get there. Maybe it is helping me in ways I will only see when I do. Like the trip to Wyoming.

Another dream relates to the idea of being a teacher. Helping students learn about news. But also learn about reading and writing. I had thought about being an journalism teacher later in my life. But truth is I could also be an English teacher. Funny thing is I hated English classes in school. Then again I hated school when I was young.

And those potentials may still be out there for me. Who knows what today will add to tomorrow.

My Story as told by Lilith

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This isn’t me. Or rather it isn’t who you think. I’m Lilith. The unseen twin of our author.
Growing up we used to spend a lot of time together. It was him and I. On long walks we got to know each other. No one else ever knew me. No one at all. The rest of the family didn’t understand.

Going to school was hard. It tore us apart. He was often mocked by other kids. And it hurt me to see. All I wanted was to get back at those kids. But I couldn’t. And he wouldn’t. So I had to watch. Knowing it hurt him, made it worse. Did anyone pay attention to him like me.

In the sixth grade he was dying for attention. I saw him do things he shouldn’t have for others. I wanted to stop him. Tell him to love himself. But I didn’t love myself. I did love him. And I felt like he loved me. We always would have each other. And I always stayed with him.

In high school we would eat together. Just the two of us. His other sister has her own friends. So we had each other. And it was all we needed.

And I went to college with him. At first it was like he didn’t need me anymore. Though we were always together. But then we got closer and closer. I know the tart Harmony broke his heart. And I know it was his fault. And yes it still hurt to watch. I wish I could have told him it was coming. But would he have listened. He listens to me more now.

On the streets we kept each other warm. Closer than ever. When M came around, I was still there. She was someone who was good for him. And I loved her as much as he loved her. She made him happy. And this made me happy. We weren’t as close. But I preferred it to his being so sad all the time. Sad and alone.

But M also broke his heart. And mine to be honest. I trusted her with my best friend. He took it hard. It was hard to comfort him. Over time he healed. He met Heather, and I never trusted her. But, she made his life a little better. Until she didn’t.

We had moved to Portland. He had a job he enjoyed. And was making a decent enough income to support us. His first place was a dump. I hate dogs, so I hated the house. Dogs in and out and messing on the floor. In the next house his roommate was crazy. I liked him, but never trusted him. Soon we moved again. Then we traveled.

Rainbow Gatherings are my favorite. And the one in Pennsylvania was grand. We played. We read. We ate and slept. It was an adventure. An adventure which lead to another adventure. Meeting Laura, Pam and Shaylyn. Then a couple months later moving in with Shaylyn and Pam in Upstate New York. There was something I liked about Ogdensburg.

Problems caused us to move again. And again. Then to live alone. It was just him and I again. We still had each other. We would always have each other. He had some friends for a while. But they drifted away and we spent our time together.

We moved back to California. Went to another great gathering. And fell in love with Boulder. I think I loved it even more then he. It was my idea to name the kissing bridge. Maybe someday we can kiss someone on the bridge. He started talking to M again. And fell in love again.

His plans were to move back to Portland. There was another girl he liked and was moving with to Portland. But they didn’t work out and he fell for M hard. Even harder than last time. I accepted her. But I couldn’t love her again. And I couldn’t trust her again. They broke up. She told him on the answering machine she was pregnant. And I feared for him. There was no baby in the end. He never shared much about his feelings.

We moved back to California. Went to a gathering. Found a great job working in the High Sierras. I loved it up there in those mountains. And I could live up there forever. If only he would allow us to leave the city. The next stop was Yosemite. Which I also loved, but not as much. He was happy in Yosemite too. But then he felt like it was too small. After saving money he got us out of there, to Stockton. I hated Stockton.

And I never saw him. Work, work and school. All the time. No time for himself and no time for me.

Things slowed down when he moved to Arcata. I loved hiking in the forest. And he enjoyed it too. The college wasn’t hard for him. Working still took a lot of time. The first year it was a job he loved. Until they fired him. And he hasn’t ever loved a job in the same way since. Well, until Walmart. The next job he worked was at CVS.

Then we moved away to Wyoming. What an amazing place to live. Snow and cold. Mountains and open plains. Take me home to Wyoming. This is where I would choose for us to live. But the job let him go. We wondered around for a while. Not lost, but seeking. And landed back in Arcata.

There he fell again. He doesn’t fall often. But when he does it is hard. I liked this girl. And I thought we could be friends. But it isn’t as easy for me as it is for him. And it really isn’t easy for him. They were close. Seemed like there was so much they had in common. And I started to believe she loved and cared about him. Maybe I could lose him to her, but then she tore his heart in two. This was a dark moment for him.

But we still had each other. We still held on to each other. In those days he hung on to me closer than ever. We only had each other. His friends didn’t really know his feelings like me.

We moved to Colorado. And Nebraska. Then Texas. Those states were hard for both of us. We were both alone. And only had each other. It was worse than high school.

But now we live in Vancouver. He has a job he loves. Working at Walmart. The sad part is the pay is not enough. I want him to do better for himself. I encourage him to seek another job. And he does, but you can tell his heart isn’t in finding something new. He wants to get promoted. But I don’t trust his managers to see him for the asset his is to them.

We shall see.

The Second Trip

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Some moments are ripe for change. For me it was the time to leave. My work was closing. The restaurant was set for a remodel. They tore it down. And started from scratch.

My friend Sean wanted to take a trip. I had shared stories about my first trip. And he had done some traveling too. The plan was to go east for the Rainbow Gathering. It was in Pennsylvania.

At first he was asking his girlfriend to come on the trip. And she refused. But then we all watched The Matrix. Then she agreed to go along. But my friend changed his tune. I’m not sure why, but he got upset. She did not join us on the trip. I wonder how things would have been different if she had gone.

We hitched out of Portland on I-84. Eastward we went through Eastern Washington. I’m not sure why, but we traveled through Spokane. If you forget how to pronounce the city name, remember it does rhyme with cocaine.

In Spokane we were spanging at a store. A man came out and talked to us for a while. Said we were doing it all wrong. If we wanted to learn about the world. Get a job he suggest – but not in a mean tone. He said we would learn more working, than traveling. Sean later pointed out we would never had heard his ideas. If we had never traveled to Spokane.

After Spokane our next stop was Missoula. We met some younger people. And they let us spend the night at their apartment. One of the girls I had a crush on. And I was flirting with her, maybe not aggressively. But the next thing I know she is making out with Sean. It upset me. There were and are few women I am attracted to on a real level. She was one of them. Sean later told me he didn’t know I was flirting with her. And I believe he wouldn’t have done something to hurt me. Just our ideas of things were different.

Heading east we got a ride with a crazy couple. I recall stopping in Buffalo, Wyoming. We would all take a walk for a while. She would call a hotline and say she was an abused woman. Then someone would come out and give her gas and money. I didn’t like her taking advantage of services meant to help people. Though she claimed there was a small kernel of truth to her story.

The plan with me and Sean was for us to go to Boulder. I loved Boulder during my last visit. And I wanted to stop again. Also as we got closer I was looking forward to being away from the couple. But then the three of them came to me. They had made plans for us to go all the way to Pennsylvania together. Great, I thought.

At one point the heat was getting to all of us. We pulled off the interstate to go to a lake. But there was a usage fee and none of us had the money. Driving back we crossed through Glendo, Wyoming. They were having a town fair. I pointed out we would be missing a rare event if we didn’t stop. So we stopped.

I ended up singing karaoke with some local teen girls. The only song I recall is, “I’m a bitch, I’m a lover, I’m a child, I’m a mother…” And Sean won the Watermelon Eating Competition. The guy in the couple said at one point some local boys were giving me the eye. Because I was singing with their girls. But he took off his shirt, showing some mean tattoos I guess. He made it clear he was with me, and they tamed down.

In North Platte, Nebraska, she went to the hospital. Me and Sean walked downtown. Found a pizza place. Got some out of the trash and started back. There was a house with a trampoline in front. I asked if we could jump on it, as a joke. They said we could. But it didn’t feel comfortable, or fun.

From Nebraska we went south. They had to do something in Kansas. While I don’t think brake repair was what they planned. It became unavoidable. The whole van should shake and the brakes made a loud grinding noise. My guess is they had to replace more than brakes. This is where we finally parted ways.

We had to walk through town to find a place to hitch a ride. Doing so we passed some cops at a convenient store. They stopped us a couple blocks later. They asked if we had any weed. No, we told them the truth.

“Then why did we smell weed when you walked by,” they asked.

We explained we hadn’t bathed in a while. Sometimes body odor can smell like weed.

“Nope, we know what weed smells like,” they insisted.

We suggest it was the sage we had burned in the van. Again they insisted they knew the smell of weed. They had to let us go. We asked for directions to Missouri. They informed us they didn’t know how to get to Missouri. So we headed off down the road. They also told us not to hitch-hike. We got lucky and found a ride from a woman at a gas station.

In Saint Louis, Missouri we got a ride with a airport shuttle. The man drove like he was crazy. But it was kind of fun. We made a stop at the Gateway Arch. You can pay to take a ride up into the arch. But neither one of us wanted to spend the money. So we got back on the road. We were hitch-hiking in East Saint Louis, and the sun was going down.

“I think we need to get out of here before dark,” I told Sean. It was a place about which I had not heard good things.

We got lucky on two counts. We got a ride before dark. And our ride took us all the way to Chicago. Then took us on a tour of the city. Finally we got dropped off in Indiana. From there to the gathering was a short trip.

At the gathering I lost Sean right away. And didn’t see him until almost the last day. He was in a rush to go. I said just wait. I wanted to dig a spring. Then I wanted to eat. I had shared our plans with a few people. One of which came up to me. We wanted to go to Niagara Falls. And he had found someone who could give us a ride. The amazing Pam.

We got a ride from the gathering from Pam to the falls. Then she said we should meet her friend Laura. Pam took us to Syracuse, New York. There we met Laura, who is also amazing. Hanging out with Laura and Pam they suggested we meet Shaylyn. She lived in Ogdensburg, New York. Right across the river from Canada. So, up to the far north we went. This is real Upstate New York.

We spent three days in Ogdensburg. And a day in Potsdam, New York. There was a festival in Potsdam. Before going I was singing a line from Into the Woods, over and over. “We’re going to go to the festival, and dance with the prince.”

Laura’s uncle lived in Potsdam. We went to his house. He was building it himself with trees from his land. When the time came to go to the festival Sean stayed behind. It was just me and the girls. There was music, and the street was closed. We were dancing. They said I must be the prince.

I am still friends with Shaylyn, Laura and Pam. In fact they are more like sisters.

Pam gave us a ride to the ferry for Burlington. We crossed the river and spent a couple days. One night we met some girls at a park. We chatted for a while. Then they wanted to buy us some food. We went to the store, and we were walking around. I picked an olive out of the bulk bin and ate it.

“You can’t do that, it’s stealing,” one of the girls freaked. “Here we can buy some.”

I did it again with something else. And she reacted the same. I’ve always viewed it as a sample. As long as you don’t press your luck.

The other thing I recall about Burlington was the pizza. Some people let us spend the night at their place. There was a flier for $1 pizza. It was too good to be true, right? But it wasn’t. We called and ordered a few. They weren’t great pizza. The quality was comparable to Little Caesar’s. Their story was they had an oven and liked to make pizza.

It was in Burlington I parted ways with Sean. There had been problems. He sat on my bag at one point and drenched my socks in a waterproofing chemical. Which made my feet break out in a rash. He would drink all his water, and then want to drink mine. And the girl issue from Missoula. It was better we part ways.

I went to Cambridge for a couple weeks. Another place I loved from my first trip. And I loved it the second time too. I even camped in the same park. For money I did Tarot card readings on the street. I made a friend, and we chatted about philosophy. He remarked how well read I was for my age. I love the Harvard Square area.

But the time came to go home. In the fastest time ever I made it back in about three days. The only problem I had was in Ohio. We were on the interstate and it was getting dark. I told him to drop me off on I-80. But I dozed off. And woke up on a freeway. When I asked he said we weren’t on I-80 anymore. So I told him to drop me off at the next exit.

Getting out I started walking through Shaker Heights. I found a pizza place and got a free pizza. A young man on a bike asked for some. I told him sure, but he didn’t eat pork. It was a pepperoni pizza, but I was picking the meat off. Me neither I explained and told him what I was doing. He did help me with directions and gave me some money for the bus.

At the bus stop another man wanted some pizza. I was getting sick of it already and was ready for someone to eat it. He ate it, and then called me away from my bag a little. He thanked me and said he was homeless. I told him I understood. He asked for money and I told him all I had was $1 for the bus. When the bus came he grabbed my bag and wouldn’t let it go. The bus almost left without me. I banged on the door and told her the story. I gave him the $1 and rode the bus for free.

From Ohio to Chicago, then Minneapolis where my friend from college James lived. I got there at night, and connected with him the next day. When I said I crossed the country in three days, I didn’t count the time with James. He also gave he a hair cut. Then he dropped me off headed west.

In North Dakota the mosquitoes were so bad I had to sleep inside. There was a truck stop with a movie theater. So I slept in one of the chairs. No one noticed me in there, or said anything. The movies were Little Big Foot and a psycho movie about a woman with an unknown stalker.

From there I got a ride with a guy in a U-Haul. He took me all the way into Montana. Even staid the night in a hotel with him. And he took me out to dinner. From Montana I went south through Idaho. Then across Eastern Oregon. From Hermiston, I got a ride all the way to Portland. I was home.

Back in Portland I got a letter from the girls in New York. They had plans, and invited me to join.

I remember…

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I remember.

The day I knew it was time to move. It was in Roswell, New Mexico. I sat on the park bench as the sun went down. A couple hundred miles away in Lubbock, Texas was my home. I had lived in Lubbock for almost a year.

A year of hot and cold. There were few good moments in my year in Lubbock. But I remember Roswell. Something in me told me it was time to move. I didn’t want to return to Lubbock.

As soon as I got back to town I called my landlord. It felt optimistic. And I remember feeling like my life would be better. I would move. I would get a better job. I would write. Make money. Be happy.

I remember packing up a trailer. And the pain in the ass it was to back up. Almost a two weeks before it was time to go I packed my things. I remember wanting to leave. The heat and the cold. And my crazy roommate.

Do you want to have sex with me? She came in one night and asked me. I did not. And she didn’t seem to want to just accept my answer. Why not she asked.

But as I pulled out of town it was all in the dust. Me, my blue car, my kitty and all my things in a trailer. The drive ahead of me. I remember feeling excited for something new. Something different. Even though I was going back to a place I had been before.

It is a small town in Colorado I remember the most. Salida is an art town in the mountains. And it was an art night when I drove through. A beautiful little town. It made me want to stay. But I recalled the cold winters and snow of Colorado. Besides where I was going would be home. I remember thinking it would be home.

After stopping to visit a friend. And taking time to discover another mountain town I remember driving into Wyoming. The next stop on my agenda was Yellowstone. One of the scenic wonders I had yet to visit.

I remember Yellowstone. It was a special place. And the Grand Tetons. Someone once told me tetons comes from a word which means breasts. The French named them.

After a couple hours in Yellowstone I was ready to continue. I remember wanting to stop in Bozeman and Missoula Montana. For the whole trip I slept in my car. I remember waking up to the beauty of nature outside my window. It wasn’t hot and it wasn’t cold. The road is so free. In my heart I sometime wonder if the road it my only home.

Bozeman is where I did laundry. And I shopped at a small co-op in Missoula. How did you find us, the clerk asked me. Google Maps. Small towns like Missoula and Bozeman make me miss the days I remember in a small town growing up. I feel so alone in the city. But I have lived in small towns recently and I remember feeling alone in them too.

All I remember of the last couple years is feeling alone. Through the hot and cold.

I remember driving through Idaho. There was a dead deer in the road. I had to drive so it would pass under my car. But it hit my exhaust and broke it. The next morning in a Walmart parking lot I discovered the damage.

Sometimes the universe looks kindly on me. This was one of those moments. In the parking lot was someone who knew how to weld. All he needed was some equipment. They called around and found a shop. We drove over to the shop and he was able to fix my exhaust. I paid him, but the shop owner took no money from me or my handyman savior. The whole ordeal cost me less than $100.

I remember getting back on the road. I knew it wasn’t far. My plan was to drive along the north side of the Columbia. Interstate 84 runs along the southside, it is faster. But I wanted to see the river. To be able to stop and take pictures. I remember some bikers I met along the way.

They were hitch-hiking and I stopped to offer what help I could. They wanted a ride, with their bikes. They said the wind was too much for them to ride through. Not having the space I had t refuse. But I suggested riding at night would be easier.

You see I told them, the land heats the air and it rises. Then air from the ocean, which is cooler, comes rushing to fill the vacuum. But at night, the air above the land will be cooler.

The sun was beating down. The river was full of wind boarders. I remember driving along the curves of the road. My camera battery was dead so I didn’t stop much. And every mile I got closer to Vancouver I remember feeling excited about the life to come.

In Vancouver I would reconnect with old friends. I would make new friends. I would get a good job. I would make money. I would be happy. I remember being so hopeful. So eager for it all to begin.

I remember sending text messages to a friend. I am on my way. I remember thinking I would see her soon. It would be the next day, or maybe the same day. After all the miles. She didn’t live so much further for me to go see her.

I remember driving through Washougal for the first time. Turning onto Interstate 205, and then Route 500. And I must have done something wrong because I ended up at the mall.

When I got to my new home, my friend opened the door with a smile. She has the same stunning beauty of the actress from Portlandia. “Put a bird on it,” I told her.

At last I was here. I remember feeling relived. Almost feeling happy. Her children and some neighbor kids helped me unload and move my things into the room. And then I settled into life in Vancouver.

 

(Post Script: This was written as part of an exercise from a new writing book I bought: Room to Write, Ronni Goldberg. I will post more as I work through the book. The exercise was to write something based on memory. I know I have already been posting a lot of memory stuff. I wanted this to be different, so I choose something recent.)