All Good Things

For a while now I’ve been dreading this update, because this one ends in LA. Which means that, as far as this trip is concerned, this will be the last significant update I write. That thought brings a little sadness, but it’s a fleeting and unique sort of sadness, which I might explain later. But first we go back to Oregon.

I think I left you at the trailer in Coos Bay, so we’ll pick it up there. We had a great time: fresh apples, crazy blueberry bushes, just about the best loaf of sourdough bread ever, and beautiful cliffs on the coast. Then more of the coast. Britton and I followed the Pacific all the way down Oregon to California, and it was absolutely brilliant. We stopped at so many of the viewpoints, and each one was unique. I scribbled this while at one of those points: “I feel like Oregon’s throwing everything it has at us, willing us into staying here…And the bigness of the Pacific is getting to me now, looking out at the huge rock islands in the distance, waves crashing all over them. Each spot out here is unique. The coastline is exceedingly beautiful and endlessly creative, and there’s no way to capture this in a one day drive.”

Which is true: there is so much there, and everything is unique and new and worth visiting for a while. So Britton and I repeatedly took note of the trail that follows the entire coast, mentally adding that to our nature to-do list. Someday, maybe.

Oh and the fog. You should’ve seen the fog at parts of the beaches. It gave this brilliant sense of mystery and obscurity to everything we saw, seeming to heighten the cliffs and exaggerate the rock islands and give it all an eerie sort of movement. I loved it.

And then everything changed in California. We crossed the stateline, and almost immediately the little coast road we were on turned into a freeway, and gas jumped up fifty cents. My first impression of California wasn’t the greatest, highlighted by the fact that they were the only state that had its own border check, but that feeling went away really, really quickly.

Here’s why: first, the coast continued. Believe it or not, California has the same ocean as Oregon. And it is still beautiful. Who knew? Then there came the redwoods. Oh my goodness, I think visiting a redwood forest should be added to every single person’s list of goals or dreams or buckets or whatever you call them. The redwoods joined one of the themes of this trip, in making me feel very, very small. A good kind of small. Like it all fits together in an unexplainable sort of way.

And it’s not just the size. Sure, there’s that…if you stand at the bottom of one and walk around it, you can’t help but be amazed at how long it takes. Then you look up and realize you can’t even see the top of it. It just keeps going and going and going. But if you can somehow stop being amazed by the bigness of it all, you won’t be able to get over the silence. All of these giants standing together somehow are able to carry the most beautiful silence you can imagine. It’s a heavy, living stillness that’s full of growth and agelessness. I love it. And I love the way the trees translate sunlight. Or, often, how they don’t. Then the occasional breeze blows through. You can feel it, and you can see some movement in the leaves way up, and you think you can hear it, but then it’s gone and you wonder for a second if you really heard anything because everything is so incredibly quiet. Then a family comes running up the trail and there’s never any doubt about hearing them, so you keep going.

Oh man. Then Britton and I found a campsite in the park. It was already beautiful with all the trees and the secluded little spot for the tent, then we noticed a tree. It had fallen over and hollowed out, so we realized we didn’t need our tent because there was a giant shell of a redwood right in our campsite. And who wants a tent when you have that? So after dinner and a ranger talk about history and geology and such, then a campfire and some reading, we unfolded our sleeping bags and slept inside the tree. You should’ve seen it in the morning, when the sunlight reached inside, I could not believe how red it was. Hence the name.

We continued through the parks, following the Avenue of the Giants, which may be the most beautiful detour ever. Then we joined back up with the coast and kept driving south. By this point it was quite dark, and the road continued to wind like crazy, especially when we cut off 101 to catch the beginning of the 1. It was around this time that we hit our second deer. (The first, in case you’re a newcomer, was in Michigan.) I was driving this time too, and once again the deer ran away and my car was barely scratched. I was grateful for this, but realized that it was probably about time to stop, so we pulled into one of the viewpoints and slept in the car.

At some point that night Britton woke me up and pointed to the moon, which was hanging over the Pacific and getting ready to set. That was absolutely gorgeous.

Then San Francisco the next day. We explored the city for a bit, ate at a barbeque joint called Memphis Minnie’s, then spent several hours in a park looking toward the Golden Gate Bridge, reading and meeting people and enjoying the view and waiting for Caroline and Grahm. There was a brilliant monument to the USS San Francisco that I thoroughly enjoyed reading about, but I won’t go into that too much here. Be sure to look it up, though, if you’re interested in that sort of thing.

We went back into the city to meet up with Care and Grahm, who had taken their own trip from Florida, in Britton’s car, so we could have both cars out here. We all walked back to Memphis Minnie’s, because Britton and I had enjoyed it so much the first time, and had all sorts of fun visiting and telling stories about our respective trips. And eating barbeque.

The four of us headed down the coast a little bit after dinner, then found a place to park the cars and ran across the street to camp out on the beach. It may not have been technically legal, but if you could have seen the incredible cave we pitched the tent under, you would understand. Caves and camping and roaring oceans go really, really well together.

We did all sorts of driving the next day, until we were only a couple hours north of LA. It was great to see so much of the coast and make a list of places worth visiting again. The highlight of that day was definitely the ongoing conversation in the car with Caroline, about travel and history and family and business and nature and literature and God and beauty and children’s books, a conversation that is so much of what family and roadtrips should be. I loved it.

That night we camped out on the beach again. It was similar to the night before, minus the cave and plus a fire. Campfires and oceans are pretty wonderful together too.

And then yesterday, September 5, we woke up and drove into Los Angeles. We were coming down the coast, so David gave us directions that brought us all the way up Sunset Boulevard and into their neighborhood in Hollywood.

David and Neil have been showing us around this part of the city, with walks up some beautiful hills that look over everything, and a walk to the Hollywood Bowl last night, a trip to the airport today to drop off Care and Grahm, and a movie tonight at the Director’s Guild. We’ve taken in so much, about history and street names and neighborhoods and directions, but it’s not overwhelming in the way that I had worried about. It’s still overwhelming, but in a good way. It makes me want to stick around and get situated, because I really like it here.

We’ve seen all sorts of love and generosity on this stretch. From the time with Caroline and Grahm, and the fact that they drove out this soon so we could have both cars, to the overwhelming generosity from David and Neil. I would wish this situation on anyone I know moving to a new city: a chance to stay with two incredibly friendly people with delicious food and a seemingly endless knowledge of the area. Not to mention the patience to share that knowledge, even when we ask the name of a street five different times. This kind of generosity is overwhelming to me, in a very very good way, and I have a feeling that I will continue to be at a constant inability to express my gratitude.

But I will try, here, to do just that. So thanks to Caroline and Grahm for joining us on this last stretch and being with us here. And thank you, thank you, thank you to David and Neil. For everything. A thousand thank you’s. Oh yeah -- I think I spelled Neil’s name wrong on here before, so I apologize for that, if you’re reading. I guess I apologize even if you’re not reading. Maybe I should just tell you.

And thanks to the rest of you, who are reading. It’s been a lot of fun for me writing these and hearing feedback. At some point in the next few days I’ll write up some thoughts about the last month as a whole and post them here. But for now, Los Angeles sends its best.

And love.