August 25th 2013 Some rest stop north of Oceanside, CA.
Dear family, friends, and random internet people,
As I sit on a plush zebra blanket in the back of a car, drinking from a $2.95 bottle of Charles Shaw Chardonnay next to the man I have seen every waking moment for a countless number of days I feel like I belong on the streets of Portland.
I've been on the road now for 49 days. I've finally settled into a new way of life and the acceptance that home is far far away. Tomorrow we'll be making our way to San Diego, which just so happens to be the last drive on the trip to take us farther from home. As awesome and incredible it is to see a large majority of north america, road life also has it's nuggets of wisdom to share.
The unstable nature of this lifestyle. has caused me to adapt to a new style of life and a new way of thinking. For example; When I enter a public restroom I now have a habbit of rating it on a scale of 1-10 for showerability. This of course depends on whether or not the tap is a manual or automatic, whether the sink is deep enough to awkwardly fit my greasy head in. Is there a hand dryer? If so, is it strong enough to blow dry my hair. How much public traffic is currently flowing through this restroom. If a bathroom scores above a 5.6345 I must take advantage of the situation and crack out the shampoo. A girl's gotta do, what a girl's gotta do, which is what I tend to tell the the innocent locals as they walk by me with disturbed looks on their faces who are simply coming in to relieve themselves. I wonder how long it will be before I stop looking at restrooms this way. I have a feeling this will be something that stays with me forever. I also look for free samples in grocery stores in order to save a few bucks on buying snacks. I pretty much feel like a homeless person keeping a very watchful eye out for anything that may benefit me in some way that is readily available, such as drinking fountains.
I may as well be a wandering hobo, except I have one (somewhat) safehaven, my saving grace from the harsh winds, and freezing cold nights. Whistler did a fantastic job showing me that my safety is not a garuntee as my young small vunerable self sleeps defenseless in a Mazda 3, but I still look to the car at the end of the day for a little peace of mind to carry me away to dream land. I've adapted to not having a real bed that patiently awaits my arival at the end of a long day. It's part of life now to have to stuff all of my belongings from the back of the car into the two front seats, put towels up in the windows, and blow up an air matress before being able to rest my head. Our record time for completing this somewhat daunting task is approximately 4.9379 minutes.
At this point in time, I know for a fact that going home will be a culture shock, having everything at the tips of my fingers while also not seeing some life changing mountainous scenery, LA skylines, some new creature or the most fascinating people I've ever laid eyes on on a daily basis will now, oddly, feel mundane and foreign. As I head home, I will, however, be taking with me a heart full of curiosity and exploration that longs for a new adventure to take place. The excitement that comes along with the anticipation of being constantly surrounded by newness is enough to overpower the tired, drained sluggishness that also comes with being so mobile on a daily basis.
Through it's ups and downs, this trip has been more than worth the money, thought, effort and time spent outside of my comfort zone. I wouldn't trade any of the experiences I've had thus far for anything, even a more expensive bottle of Chardonnay. Thanks for reading another Redwood Letter Rachel
