I, Five

California is a really long state.

I knew this before, but never does it hit home like it does when you are at the bottom of it trying to get to the top.

Doretta and I set sail from LA on Wednesday at 3. We had all we needed for the trip: pita chips, lots of music, maps, a flat of bottled water, trashy magazines and a burning desire to get ourselves north of the 49th. My if-not-trusty-than-at-least-good-looking Volvo has no air conditioning, so one of the challenges of the trip was staying alert in what is, during the deadly 3pm to 7pm stretch, a very hot car.

But despite gusty winds, hot days, the smell of cow shit, cel phones on roam, incredibly salty Round Table pizza, semis with three trailers (C trains?), shocking glimpses of overcrowded cattle farms, scary roadside rusty metal sculpture and the fatalities of several thousand bugs, we did, indeed, make it home.

Doretta gets mad props for being a superstar DJ, for Doretta-dancing in her seat, for encouraging me to consume caffeine (which I normally never do), for agreeing to keep driving even when it got really late, for being smart enough to slink down in the front seat in order for me to successfully smuggle her into the HoJo's so we could get the single occupancy rate, for her beautiful squeegee work, for talking to me when I got tired and for singing along to Stephen Malkmus as we entered the fair city of Vancouver (a nuclear weapons-free zone).

Observations include: gee, Portland is a really lovely kind of place. and: what is wrong with Canadian border guards? Guy asks us how long we've been in the States and we're like "since January" and then he asks if either of us are bringing over $200 worth of stuff with us. What the hell kind of question is this? A: isn't the limit, like, $500 after 48 hours? and B: running shoes + headphones + a pack of gum = more than $200, n'est ce pas? Well, lying at the Peace Arch crossing is a time-honoured tradition for Vancouverites, maybe he was just trying to welcome us home.

But ah, kilometers. Ah, trees and ocean smells. Ah, loonies. Ah, Lions Gate Bridge. Ah, the green. Ah, the gentle constant rain, like Milton's Eden. Ah, me lovely friends. Ah, me ma, me pa, me bro. Ah, home.