The trip through the remainder of California was nothing if not beautiful. Northern California really does seem like a world apart from the disingenuous nature of Southern California. Everything seems to me as it should be. You are hard pressed to find the expanses of pavement, skyscrapers are replaced by massive redwoods; avenues and freeways by streams, creeks, and rivers. The only real pavement I recall was the road we were on, US-101N. There was a bit of lost glory still in those trees. It was a little of the land that time forgot and was a happier place for it. The area reminds me of a friendly old neighbor. He enjoys his peace, but welcomes others with open arms.
Crossing the boarder into Oregon was somewhat lacking in its excitement. I was welcomed to my new state with a green sign that read simply "Entering Oregon". But while the fanfare of crossing this line seemed mundane, the significance of it could not be overstated. I was leaving behind the only state that I had ever called home.It had been good to me for twenty-eight years. But it was time to shed that skin.
I focused on the fact that I would once again be reunited with my family. It had been a little over a month since I last saw them in the flesh. While the aid of video chatting eased the suffering a bit, there was still no comparison to the real thing. Any decent father will tell you that little matches the feeling of their son or daughter running across a yard as fast as their legs will take them, the ultimate goal being the arms of a parent they hadn't seen in what seems to them an eternity.
We stopped in a small town just on the other side of the border, Cave Junction, for drinks and gas. I had to remind my mom that we were now in Oregon and, that being the case, we were forbidden from pumping our own gas. It was a reflex that I have since come to part. In its place is the waiting in the car for someone to pump gas only to realize that you are in Washington where such things don't happen. It may seems strange to those not accustomed to this area, but the fact is that you are not allowed to pump your own gas in the state of Oregon. It is against the law. Gas stations hire attendants to pump the gas which in turn creates jobs. It's a small bit of stimulus, but it's better than nothing. I am sure that those stations have provided jobs go people that would otherwise still be hunting for gainful employment.
Before we knew it we were through Grant's Pass and headed North on I-5. This part of the trip was mostly a blur. My mind was on getting to my family before sun down and little else. I was going to do everything in my power. But the sun was beginning to set and both my mom and I were getting weary. We had been on the road since 9 that morning and took very little time for breaks and food. Our perseverance was beginning to get the better of us. All we could do is push on and hope we make it.
