The campground starts to bustle as sleepy heads poke out of tents and husband reach for coffee, presented by the outstretched arms of wives chasing kids, trying to pull hair in pigtails and shirts over tussled heads. I am privy to the morning routine. Or what I imagine it would look like. Add four walls and some hot and cold running water, of course. But this is the basic gist of the family dynamic. There’s a pang, a tightness in my chest. I am so looking forward to that closeness. The sounds of Velcro and the abc’s.
Marley and I eat breakfast under our redwood canopy. Tall and towering. these trees rise overhead blocking out the morning rays. The river passes us on the other side of the path and the dampness of the embankment and the morning dew waft over to us. There is a freshness about the smell of damp earth. A memory from childhood. Digging worms for my turtles. The way the mud dries tight around your skin. Crusting under fingernails and cuticles. I was a dirty kid. That was the most fun,
We head north towards Monterey. Sea otters and cliff sides. Cute town and marinas. But I am only there briefly. I head back to the car after a block or two. Frozen in my footsteps a chill comes across my body. My dad used to live here. Back when he first returned to the states from guam. And I picture him walking around knowing these streets and shopping in these stores and I wanted no part of it. I felt like I was trespassing. I don’t want memories to overlap with his. Maybe it’s stupid but I didn’t drive all this way to feel like crap. And as I walked around staring at the store fronts of average buildings all I could think was, this is what kept him from us? this is what was more important than his daughters? I retreated, nauseated.
Back on the pch I made my way towards los angeles. A long winding trip, on the ocean side now. The weather is beautiful. Clear and sunny. The fog that loomed over ledges yesterday has lifted revealing dramatic drops and crashing waves below. I want a convertible. Just for this stretch of road. Relaxed in the back staring out at all sides, and up. Up into the California sunshine. For everywhere else I will take a Volkswagen van. They are all here. If you’re looking to purchase one, they have apparently all migrated west and make their homes along the coastline. Hippies and surfers piling out with their dogs and children. This is the way to travel. A bed in the back. A horizontal place to lay your head. Home is where the ignition is in the off position. I could get used to that. The freedom. The adventure. I can definitely see myself toting my loved ones around in a camper, showing them the monuments and landmarks they have learned about in class. Our country really is a glorious place. People would do themselves well to get out of the office and into the open air in order to remind themselves just what exactly we are working so hard to have.
Our drive time increases as I add stops at vistas and cute towns. Photo ops at every bend. It’s wonderful to be by myself at these times. I can pull over on a whim. Romp through unfamiliar streets. And no one is being drug around unwillingly, bored and waiting to be there yet! Marley doesn’t mind the random stops. He enjoys the new smells and the opportunity to mark his territory. He’s garnered quite an impressive landmass. Everything west of the Mississippi, south of the Dakotas. He’s my cowboy.
As the sun begins to set I realize that my goal of meeting Stephanie for happy hour in Venice Beach is all but impossible, still over one hundred miles away and heading for traffic. This is what I hate most about California. The thousands of drivers on the road. One person per vehicle. Five lanes of 80mph traffic, motorcycles passing you in your lane. It requires intense concentration. No cell phones. They are illegal in the car without an earpiece. Intelligent. And I marvel at how efficiently the traffic merges and exchanges lanes without one single accident. California needs to teach north Carolina some driving skills. I-77 at rush hour: no one would survive the teaming swarms of the 10, bumper-to-bumper, surging into the smoggy horizon.
It’s nearly ten o’ clock when I finally round the bend into santa monica. I’m supposed to call Stephanie when I get in and I decide to drive to the pier so I can give her a safe landmark to direct me from. Hailing me into port like a wayward ship. I feel lost at sea. This unfamiliar traffic. I’ve been nearly the only one on the road for weeks. And the Subaru outbacks and Toyota matrix traded in for benzes and bmw’s. I think I may have seen scarlet johansen drive by. Anything is possible. Isn’t that the lure of Hollywood.
I head for the ferris wheel. Blue lights in the distance. my 2009 version of a lighthouse. But I’m tired and distracted and my body aches from being in one position for the past couple hours. Body tense from concentration. I miss my turn and end up at the airport. The light of LAX impersonating the joyride on the pier. I turn off towards mulholland drive. The only road I’m familiar with. I know what waits at the top. A quiet vista and a sparkling city below. Los angeles is much less intimidating when you’re perched above the canyon staring down at the hustle and bustle. I stand in awe of this man made spectacle until my tension subsides. All those people down below. And I am all alone up here in the dark night. Pretty amazing.
Stephanie laughs when I tell her where I ended up, where I am, and that I have no idea where I’m going. She gives me directions to ventura blvd in Sherman oaks. It’s near her house. There’s plenty to see and she’ll meet me there as soon as she can get across town. I steer my way into a cvs parking lot. Something familiar. I wait. When she pulls in she bounces out of her car like the california dream Barbie that she is. Lively and blonde. All smiles and hugs. I am so happy to see her. And as we pull away from our greeting we both laugh at the fact that we are standing in California together. It totally throws me off. To see people in different settings. Like seeing your work friends out on the town or your teachers at the grocery store or your charlotte friends in downtown los angeles. I follow her back to her apartment. And we lug Marley dog inside. We walk around the neighborhood and the park and catch up. It’s warm outside even though the sun has long sine gone to bed. And it’s the first time in a week that I go to bed comfortable in only a t-shirt.
Stephanie is a working actress and I have caught her in between jobs. Lucky for me because today we can play. We make plans to go to the museum. I have done the whole Hollywood scene and after my drive and all my days hiking in the woods rodeo drive pales in comparison to an actual rodeo. But we never quite make it out the door. Hours of conversation transition us from our pj’s to the shower to the couch to the kitchen to the living room floor where we halfheartedly make arrangements to walk the Marley dog. It’s hot outside. Sweltery. Bright sun beating down on pavement. But I make a dash for the park and back to the apartment. We head to In-and-out burger for dinner. I am officially christened into the cali culture. Then off to the archlight theater to see the dark knight. We may be the last two people on the planet who haven’t seen this film. It’s more impressive than I imagined. I leave heavy but wanting more.
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