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| Lassen National Park |
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| Lassen National Park |
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| Whitmore Area |
Friday, May 17, 2013
Arrival in Whitmore
I woke up in Susanville only to find a flat trailer tire.....not too bad considering the 2,800 miles I logged. Did I mention the transmission exploded all over the road? Yeah that happened too. I think I actually returned the truck with less parts than I started with. Luckily they were impressed with my dashing good looks and cunning personality and offered me a generous settlement of never coming back again. I DID get the time to snap a few pictures of my home area. Check it out!
Life on the Road (Part 3)
California!
I left Salt Lake City in late morning and was getting pretty drowsy around the California line. Let me just say that, in my mind, California has always had this evil shroud of obscene legalities and stipulations on objects from as small as toothpicks to as large as redwoods. As I headed North out of Reno, I saw a large California sign proclaiming the imminent cavity search of my box truck.....and possibly me if I so much as blinked. My trembling headlights made their way under a dimly lit canopy where an older lady ordered the immediate removal of my keys. As I rolled down my window, she asked me where I was from and where I was headed. I figured now wouldn't be a good time to slur my speech, but when I attempted to explain that I was headed to Whitmore, I completely forgot the name of the town... This started a large slippery slope of mutterings and stutterings and fumblings and such like. She asked me to get out of the truck and make my way to the back where she could inspect my collection of heat lamps and illegals. She may have been shocked to see a young man with a truck full of dusty antiques, but, in a timely manner, I had remembered all of the information she required. Her countenance changed like the colors on a chameleon and tears filled her eyes. As the cars began to pile up behind us, she began to unload her childhood years and the deep hurt that she experienced growing up. Without hesitation, we both burst into prayer for each other, and I left as quickly as I had arrived. The next sixty miles were silent. No radio. Just the sound of high speed rubber on asphalt. I tried to hold in the well of tears, but it was impossible. I wept like a child. I cried "I miss my family" tears, "I'm scared" tears, but most of my tears poured from excitement and praise. I have felt this trip for as long as I can remember and it was happening....now. That dark stretch of highway was by far the most beautiful of the entire trip, and the profoundness of beauty being a feeling and not an object of sight had never been so clear and concise. As I slipped into Susanville, I booked a room and drifted off to sleep. Tomorrow I would arrive in Whitmore.
I left Salt Lake City in late morning and was getting pretty drowsy around the California line. Let me just say that, in my mind, California has always had this evil shroud of obscene legalities and stipulations on objects from as small as toothpicks to as large as redwoods. As I headed North out of Reno, I saw a large California sign proclaiming the imminent cavity search of my box truck.....and possibly me if I so much as blinked. My trembling headlights made their way under a dimly lit canopy where an older lady ordered the immediate removal of my keys. As I rolled down my window, she asked me where I was from and where I was headed. I figured now wouldn't be a good time to slur my speech, but when I attempted to explain that I was headed to Whitmore, I completely forgot the name of the town... This started a large slippery slope of mutterings and stutterings and fumblings and such like. She asked me to get out of the truck and make my way to the back where she could inspect my collection of heat lamps and illegals. She may have been shocked to see a young man with a truck full of dusty antiques, but, in a timely manner, I had remembered all of the information she required. Her countenance changed like the colors on a chameleon and tears filled her eyes. As the cars began to pile up behind us, she began to unload her childhood years and the deep hurt that she experienced growing up. Without hesitation, we both burst into prayer for each other, and I left as quickly as I had arrived. The next sixty miles were silent. No radio. Just the sound of high speed rubber on asphalt. I tried to hold in the well of tears, but it was impossible. I wept like a child. I cried "I miss my family" tears, "I'm scared" tears, but most of my tears poured from excitement and praise. I have felt this trip for as long as I can remember and it was happening....now. That dark stretch of highway was by far the most beautiful of the entire trip, and the profoundness of beauty being a feeling and not an object of sight had never been so clear and concise. As I slipped into Susanville, I booked a room and drifted off to sleep. Tomorrow I would arrive in Whitmore.
Friday, May 10, 2013
Life on the Road (Part 2)
Ok so I guess Iowa gets snow.....in May.....six inches of it. I have a picture to prove it.
Nebraska.....boring. Wyoming....yeah boring too. Nevada? You guessed it. If you ever get the chance to visit Utah, however, take it. Maybe it was just the major boredom of the three states prior, but I'm convinced that Jesus Himself will likely touch down in the snowy mountains near Salt Lake City when He returns. For fear of driving off of the cliffs, I didn't take many pictures so you'll just have to take my word for it.
I guess I did get a chance to play 9 holes at some random desert town in Nevada. I was hoping for a miracle of some sort, but.....I still stink.
Nebraska.....boring. Wyoming....yeah boring too. Nevada? You guessed it. If you ever get the chance to visit Utah, however, take it. Maybe it was just the major boredom of the three states prior, but I'm convinced that Jesus Himself will likely touch down in the snowy mountains near Salt Lake City when He returns. For fear of driving off of the cliffs, I didn't take many pictures so you'll just have to take my word for it.
I guess I did get a chance to play 9 holes at some random desert town in Nevada. I was hoping for a miracle of some sort, but.....I still stink.
(this was my 2nd chip shot)
Life on the Road (Part 1)
Welp. I made it. After a few minor/major setbacks, my house is technically settled.,,,,if settled means stacks of boxes and furniture placed in random locations similar to a junkyard. This place is crazy cool! I'm getting ahead of myself though. The journey started with my first goal set on Mattoon, IL.
Back in the days of ADDICT in Piqua, OH, I got to build a sweet relationship with two boys named Kevin and Dwayne. They ended up moving to Illinois, and I had hoped to one day go out and visit them. (Somehow I thought that my 24' box truck pulling the 4runner could navigate back roads and alleys with ease) After arriving a few hours late, I parallel parked the barge between two lowered cadillacs in a dark alley and walked hesitantly to my friends' house. They hadn't changed much....except for the lower voices, chin stubble, and added 3 feet in height. Fortunately, they were able to skip school the next day and spend a little time with me. We visited many major landmarks in the area such as a random dam, a skate park, Abraham Lincoln's parent's house...haha, and some farm store similar to an old farmer's wood shed. After spending the night on the couch, I hugged em' by and pointed toward Redding.
Yes that's the notorious Nancy and Thomas Lincoln house
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