Day 1 - A Voyage North: Four States One Car

Let me give you the background: Yesterday night was spent drilling holes and stretching cargo nets to create an interior roof top storage system (After 300mi I am very pleased with the results). This morning was spent packing, packing, packing, pausing to think, packing, stressing, packing, breathing...repeat. It was a three hour mission that left a few things forgotten, but all and all, the good stuff made it in.

I met Marissa in Los Feliz around 12:30pm (that would be three and half hours late, yet it felt right on time). Marissa and I had planned a route for months, and with a few key strokes we changed our course. A route to Flagstaff, AZ was swapped for a route to St. George, UT. Since we are thinking days in advance here, St. George was closer to our starting point and closer to our ultimate destination, The North Rim of the Grand Canyon.

We left Los Feliz at 1pm and headed inland and south to Riverside. Our navigator, Constance (She has a sweet little crumpets and tea British Accent) guided us on our way. When we missed our exit she "recalculated" in a matter of seconds. In any event, an old compatriot of mine, currently studying Social Psychology at UC Riverside had us as brief guests. The dogs were only too happy to get out of the car. Mr. Fletcher, as his students most likely call him, lives on campus. As with most UC facilities this equals a blanketed no pets policy. As soon as we stepped out of the vehicle and on to UC property, we were law breakers. He opened his door and greeted us in a gentile manor. The trip had barely begun and it felt good.

We walked around to the back of his aging palatial estate. Outback sat a rusted close line, an oak tree and some grass. All the houses in the Family/Student housing section were necked up back to back with no fences, and a sloping grassy ravine connecting the thruway. Flow was swinging about the leash in a nervous frenzy, so I let her off and she tore through the grass like a Thoroughbred seeking a ribbon.

As Flow meandered Chops hung close, and Jesse, or rather Maestro Fletcher, showed us the amazing beehive that made a home on the side of the oak. Beautiful yet scary, since after not being stung for 10 years, I discovered two summers ago that I had developed a sweet little allergic reaction to the bee's defense. Flow came back, I tied them both up under the tree and we stepped inside for some water.

Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher (Preeta) brought us a glass of water and there we sat. We talked art; we talked old friends; we talked music theory; we talked past, present, and future; we talked academics; and we exchanged hugs. The good professor gave us a parting word and gifted us a journey.

With a snap and flash we were back on the road. Constance combined with Marissa's iphone skills, had us locked on an In-N-Out about 10 miles north. We stopped, we ate, we bathroomed, we moved on.

This is where the road got long and the trip set in. The Inland Empire reminds me of old vinyl: it sounds good if it is taken care of, but when it is scratched it just annoying and redundant. So it is, with much of the first half spent on the 215 and 15, the southern interior of California is a place I shall not need a second look at.

We pressed on and the AC blew ice crystals, while the temperature outside read 105. We pressed forth until we saw the vast megalopolis of Las Vegas. Now I have never been, but my first trip was breathtaking: The Luxor, The Whim, Trump Tower, The Belagio, Harrah's, Caesar's Palace, and so forth. All of these gems gleamed at me as we whipped through in a furry of dust and smoke. They looked great from the freeway, but I feel as if these casinos, with their gaudy exteriors and whorish interiors really don't show one the true side of Las Vegas--they are simply a facade. However, upon reading the local gun shop billboard in which an automatic assault rifle was displayed with the tagline, "Try One!", Ls Vegas reered its freaky little face. Fake breasts and free drinks have nothing on the pure unadulterated power of a fully automatic deathstick.

Las Vegas gave us the time to refuel and allow the dogs to run briskly through a trash strewn vacant lot. I peed, then they peed, then Chops pooped, and then we got back on the road.

North: Through the tundra, the further from Vegas the more the beauty filtered in. Perhaps it was the setting sun that brought an angelic hue to the surrounding hills, but all seemed to be new and breathtaking. Northern Nevada gave way into the red rocks of Arizona. Arizona's plateaus became blurs beneath the far off landslides of rain that fell out of mountainous skies. Marissa snapped away as the rain fell further on the horizon. At 65mph, our sightseeing takes on panoramic qualities.

The Mountains of Arizona gave way the Canyon of the Vaginas. No this is not the real name, but Even Cowgirls Get the Blues when they try to remember the name of passing natural wonders. In any event we hooked around a lightening storm and feel into an an ancient canyon carved by the thunderous rapids of a river long over due, The Virgin River. The wonder of the enormous mountainsides closing in around us, could make you remember how small you might be, but it made me think of the enormity of this trip, and how we have set a series of amazing things in front of us. YES!

The Canyon of the Virgin River lead us out of Arizona and into Utah. Mormon country thus far has been friendly and beautiful; I have talked to two people and they seemed nice. St. George gives us a hotel that accepts pets, has free WiFi and solid showers. This hotel, although tolerant of pets asks many questions such as: How many pets? How much do they way? Do they shed a lot? I answered: One pet; 70lbs; Definitely not. Another useless lie, but this one saved me an extra $20, so I feel it was justified.

Marissa and I traipsed through the dark across a vacant lot; the dogs scuttled off to smell the smells of new lands. We walked the dogs through a drive through, ordered a sub, came home, ate, watched Seinfeld, and sat in silence. Typing this entry has proven to be lengthy and odd, and yet I feel strong about its accuracy.

As Marissa thumbs through a book, Flow and Chops twitch in epileptic sleep REM, and I sit typing, ready to spellcheck, shower, sleep, amen.

The blessings of the road continue to abound.

After proof reading this, I believe I slipped into two different verb tenses of past and present in an effort to sound interesting. I think it is incorrect and I would like to change it, but I am tired.

Blessings from Utah.