Much as I want to share my experiences on other subjects, like Windmill Choreography, I cannot escape my feelings of emptiness and loss. Today they spilled out in some poetic form. I’ll work on travels and windmills, family and friends, beauty in life (and death), and other such things. But today I woke to a description of my current reality. And thus I share.
She Won't Be Back AgainFrom dreamless sleep I waken
But the nightmare continues
She won't be back again
The sun is shining
The breeze is blowing
But the nightmare continues
She won't be back again
I see her in her children
Grandchildren carry on
And the nightmare continues
She won't be back again
Talking to an empty room
The pain of her absence lingers
And the nightmare continues
She won't be back again
Looking at pictures of her
She smiling back at me
But the nightmare continues
She won't be back again
Laying down to slumber
Dim the lights, mute the sound
Dreamless sleep a solace
In the morning the nightmare resumes
She will never be back again
I continue to cry. So many reminders do me in. The world continues to turn. Its inhabitants go on with their lives. So many seemingly impactful events unfold every day. I am aware of them but they seem less important than my grieving. And though I still wear the grease-paint, “I hurt all the time deep inside.”
Next week I’ll have another opportunity to be more cheerful in my musings. One can hope! Until then, know that I continue to ride the wakeful waves of dreams and nightmares. I hope for good dreams and wakeful states for all of you this week and beyond.
The final cut from Long Distance Voyager by The Moody Blues, along with its two preceding songs, are among my all-time favorites. They reflect the internal turmoil of a performer. However, they are also reflective of struggles I am confident we all wrestle with, at least from time to time. No doubt this series of recordings influenced my creation of Chameleon, which describes a person who changes colors to fit into various social situations.
For many years I described my musical affinity as the “Veteran Cosmic Rocker.” Even today, I can relate to keeping a smiling face and demeanor as I struggle with so many new challenges in my life. I invite you to read the lyrics and listen to the combined YouTube video.
Painted Smile
I can sing, I can dance
Just give me a chance
To do my turn for you
There's a chance I'll slip
But with stiff upper lip
I'll sing my song for you
Laughter is free
But it's so hard to be a jester all the time
And no one's believing I'm the same when I'm bleeding
And I hurt all the time deep inside
I've shed a tear for the lying
While everyday trying
To paint this smile for you
Backflips, cartwheeling, somersault feelings
What is there left to do?
Laughter is free
But it's so hard for me, a jester all the time
No one's believing I'm the same when I'm bleeding
And I hurt all the time deep inside
Roll up, roll up, enjoy the show
Pick me up, wind me up, put me down
You'll see me go
And this painted smile
May miss for a while
Then come back and steal your show
I sing, I dance
Give me a chance to do my turn for you
With backflips, cartwheeling, somersault feelings
What's there left to do?
Laughter is free
But it's so hard to be a jester all the time
No one's believing I'm the same when I'm bleeding
And I hurt all the time deep inside
Laughter is free
But it's so hard to be a jester all the time
No one's believing I'm the same when I'm bleeding
And I hurt all the time deep inside
Reflective Smile
Your painted smile hides you still
While you search yourself within
Yesterday and tomorrow's found
Fused as one upon solid ground
As all around the milling crowd
Confuse themselves with raging sounds
And their loves forgetfulness abounds
So be thankful for your greasepaint-clown
If loneliness wears the crown of the Veteran Cosmic Rocker
Veteran Cosmic Rocker
The lights go down, the stage is set
The man in the wings breaks out in sweat
A backstage joker spiked his coke
While the dressing room was full of smoke
A crowd of fools got him high
He's afraid he's gonna die
He's the apple of their eye
He steps into the remaining light
Crowd go wild, he's out of sight
Arms held high in the sign of peace
His manager signed the one night lease
The house is full getting high
He's afraid he's gonna die
He's the apple of their eye
He's the Veteran Cosmic Rocker
He steps into the remaining light
The crowd go wild, he's out of sight
Arms held high in the sign of peace
His manager signed the one night lease
The house is full getting high
He's afraid he's gonna die
He's the apple of their eye
He's the Veteran Cosmic Rocker
He's afraid that he will die
Can you relate to these words? Do you like the music?
I played an open mic at West Music Thursday night. The most difficult aspect of performing is to calm my nerves. Past that, I must channel the situations and feelings that prompted me to write the songs at all. Focus. Keep within the words and music. Forget about the audience, though not completely. Eye contact. An occasional nod. A smile. Get my fingers to hold and pluck the strings. How do I get through a cramping hand? But I have to focus on the words.
These are only some of the challenges as I work on this major effort of my new life. Fear. Doubt. Sadness. Guilt. Expectation. You get the idea. It’s no wonder that performers are torn between their personal lives and their public personas. Supposedly, we have gifts. But they come at a cost. Just like everything else in all of our lives. Sometimes we are gifted. Sometimes we make choices. Regardless, we deal with them. Sometimes in the open, sometimes behind the veil of a smile, like the “grease-paint clown.”
If retailers can create sales called “Christmas in July”, I can call for “Thanksgiving in July?” Though it should probably be in June. I’ll chalk that up to artistic license.
Nearly two weeks past my gig in Clear Lake, I am still reeling from emptiness, sadness, and guilt. It is common for me to have a letdown after completing a challenging goal; that, combined with the spiral grieving process (though at times it feels more like a roller coaster!). Nor surprise that I am off.
I miss Pam intensely. I am sad that she is unable to watch her grandchildren grow into adulthood, she cannot watch Adalynn, our next door neighbor child, frolic on her new swing set, or to share times with family and friends, or go on the road with me. I feel guilty for moving forward with my life without her, even though I know in my mind that she would want me to.
Adalynn with BlueAdalynn the Princess
In the midst of this despair I found myself giving thanks for many of the same things I rue during loss. You may thank God, the universe, even your lucky stars. Regardless of attribute, it is enlightening and healthy to be thankful.
First and foremost, I am thankful for my family. Just being able to have relationships with siblings, daughters, sons, grandchildren, in-laws is worth many thanks. And thanks to them for – being. Each person is a gift full of gifts! I am thankful for their support, for believing in me, for their compassionate ears and encouraging words.
Pam and I were happily married for over 25 years, for which I am truly thankful. Being with Pam taught me about unconditional love, deep love, letting go love. I cannot imagine a better mate. I am forever changed for the better because of her.
I am thankful for my health. Sure. I have a few “getting older” issues, but how can I complain when I know so many with far worse ailments. So far, I am still able to do the things I love, like play guitar and sing, and walk and hike. I can drive my car (which I also enjoy), and eat and drink “normally.” Health is at the heart of maintaining good quality of life, for which we all strive.
A modest home in a friendly Iowa town. Living across the street from a park and a pond – with trout! Good neighbors. So much more to be thankful for.
Which leads to how I live. Always striving to live within my means. Thankful that I can afford the things I have and am able to share my gifts with others.
My music continues to be a sustaining force in my life. I am thankful for the gift of music, my ability to play, and create music and lyrics that are cathartic for me and convey messages that others can relate to. I am thankful for the people I’m meeting as I play. From those who pass on the streets and walks as I practice in my garage, to those who patiently listen at more formal venues. I am grateful to be able to share myself, as representing thoughts and emotions of others.
So much to be thankful for! Whether it’s June, July, or any other time of the year. When I’m feeling down and out, It’s good to recognize and articulate what I am thankful for. How about you?
P. S.
OMG Look what came in the mail this morning. Guess I’m not the only one. 😉 They say they can provide six meals for every dollar donated. North Liberty Community Pantry is a cause I contribute to often.
Bucket list item? Goal? Dream? Commitment? Yep. All of those. My gig at Galilean Lutheran Church in Clear Lake was a success. I played one song during the service and 21 during the performance. Many stayed to listen. And while a few left after the first set, several friends, and family who all drove in for the event, thank you very much, stayed for the entire time.
A surreal perspective engulfed me as I played. It was hard to believe I was actually there performing. Fortunately, I enjoy playing my music and sharing my life with others through song. I got into it easily and made relatively few, minor mistakes, probably even fewer that were noticeable. Feedback was positive, with several people expressing their like for the songwriting. Overall, the consensus was that I should go forth and do more.
There were several stress indicators in the weeks leading up to the event. A gout flareup, trouble sleeping, and sadness for missing Pam. I know she would have been happy, and would have enjoyed the experience. I know I would not be who I am, doing what I am, without her love and encouragement. Last Tuesday was Pam’s birthday. Two days after the show. That, too, was looming in my heart and mind as the day approached.
Reflecting on my experience and feelings in the days after the show, extreme sorrow, and some guilt, overtook me. I realized that, though Pam shared it, this was my dream. My fulfillment. I felt that I hadn’t listened well enough to Pam expressing her dreams, that I didn’t do enough to make them come true.
Of course we had common dreams that we hoped would become real during our years of retirement. I like to think we would have made those, and Pam’s come true. Unfortunately, we have little control over the universe, the world, our lives. I would trade, in a heartbeat, all of who and what I am now to be with Pam again.
As I pondered these shortcomings, I found myself saying:
“I could have loved her better, but I could not have loved her more.”
I’m not sure that makes sense, but it sounds good and might even make good song lyrics. I love Pam deeply. I know that. But I certainly could have done it better, listened better, given more of myself to her.
Other lyrics I’ve written express Pam’s beautiful being that I aspire to, but will probably never achieve:
“You treat others better than yourself. Thinking more of them than you.”
The “others” and “them” include me. Now I can only try to do better. I cannot change the past. But I can impact my future. And in doing so, positively impact other’s lives as well. I hope!
“What’s next?” You might ask. After a few days of relative rest (that means playing only occasionally instead of for hours each day), I will start working on new material that I’ve already been writing and plucking, along with polishing several songs that have been sitting for months and years. I hope to record the remainder of my current play list so that I can share the newer songs that are not yet posted. I’ll be looking for open mics around the area to gain confidence and exposure. No, Linda, I’m not headed to Nashville yet. 😉
Tomorrow, I will fulfill a commitment I made a year ago to prepare my music and play in public, when I perform up to 24 original songs at the church where Pam and I met and married. I didn’t realize at the time, about a month after she died, that following through on a dream of performing publicly while traveling around Iowa and beyond, would become such an important part of my grief journey.
Pam and I loved to drive the back roads to towns and eating establishments. We hoped it would be a significant aspect of our retirement. Fun travels. And I would ask hosts and barkeeps if I might sit in a corner and play. With Pam’s passing, I decided to keep the dream alive.
I’ve been working/playing nearly every day for a year leading up to this point. Tomorrow is my debut. I’m not sure where I go from here, but I’m working on new goals like recording the rest of my current play list, as well as polishing another group of songs that have been on a back burner for years. Playing at open mics will help keep sharp what I have been working so hard to develop.
Attempting to share more of me through my music, I have updated my Songs page to include all of the songs from Catching Up on Life, recorded in 2013. Hopefully, that page will grow significantly over the next few weeks/months as I record more of my current repertoire.
This is a bittersweet occasion. So many memories, hopes, emotions, challenges, and now, fulfilment. My love, Pam, made this all possible. She listened (probably more than she wanted). She encouraged. She dreamed along with me. She allowed me to be me. Even in death Pam’s love for me, and mine for her, helped me get through the roughest times and begin to create a future for me, without her. A future that still includes her through memories and songs. Songs of love and affection about and to her.
I will play on. For Pam. For me. To share with all of you who might listen. I am humbled and hopeful.
Egocentric – someone who is limited in outlook or concern to his or her own activities or needs : a self-centered person
Merriam Webster Dictionary
I was noticing how many times I begin a sentence or paragraph with that single letter word. Of course, I’ve known it all along, since childhood, I’m sure. Though some people in my universe think I am a caring, empathetic, even compassionate person, I know, and am egocentric even about, what are deemed my character flaws, and shortcomings. Be honest. Don’t we all? But ego, and therefore being egocentric is not necessarily a bad thing if kept in life’s balance.
“But the vast majority of people are, by definition, and as a need for survival, egocentric.”
Humans have survived in large part due to their adaptability. We developed ego as a survival tool. If we didn’t care so much about ourselves, we would not have nurtured our survival instincts. Thus, ego, in itself, is at least neutral, if not a beneficial aspect of our humanity.
Getting to the crux of why I am able to write about my own egocentricity. Grace Dow writes about egocentricity related to the arts in her article The Artist and the Ego.
When it comes to creativity there are two virtues you hear praised over and over again: vision and action…
But I’m here to argue for the third essential quality of any creative endeavor: Ego…
Oxford Dictionaries defines “ego” as “a person’s sense of self-esteem or self-importance.” It has come to be known as a dirty word of sorts, equated with arrogance and vanity. But for artists, I would argue that it’s something of a necessity.
Grace Dow, Medium, July 21, 2017
Grace goes on to quote Norman Mailer, George Orwell, and Mary Bennet to drive home the point that artistic people need to be, and perhaps are by nature, egocentric. That they, we, couldn’t put ourselves out there unless we possessed the gumption to do so for all to see. No matter what they see. This article by Grace Dow is a fun read. Just get past the first two paragraphs.
In a The Creative Mind article entitled Creativity and Ego,Douglas Eby discusses a relationship between art, ego, and perfection. Artists seek perfection and are in constant pursuit of validation from those they wish to affect. Mr. Eby is a psychologist who researched the psychology of creative expression and personal growth. Some interesting reading.
So there it is. I admit it. I am egocentric. The challenge is not “sounding” egocentric when writing. Why? Because I try NOT to be arrogant or haughty in my daily living and lifestyle. Because, though apparently I not only am, but need to embrace my egocentric nature, I don’t want it to rule me, nor my music, nor my writing.
Consequently, now you will probably notice every time I begin a sentence or paragraph with that one letter word, “I”. There must be other ways of relating thoughts, feelings, and experiences, that are more inclusive yet still personal.
I know myself. I like myself. But not all of my self. There goes that need for perfection again! Have you had enough of me yet? “I” hope not.
Today, July 27th, is the 365th day of reading Healing After Loss by Martha W. Hickman. It is the “last” page for me since one can begin any day and continue for a year. I have been partaking of this ritual faithfully for the past year, even before my first cup of coffee, as I have wanted to get my head and heart around my feelings and the challenges of each day of grief and rebuilding my life.
Before opening the book today, I suggested to myself that it will be interesting to find out if it would contain something profoundly pertinent to this day, or only another encouraging message to help me get through the day, and the year. I am quoting the page in its entirety below:
The quote
Since her grief had brought her fully to birth and wakefulness in this world, an unstinting passion had moved in her, like a live stream flowing deep underground, by which she knew herself and others and the world.
Wendell Berry
The Message
It is a difficult birth – this coming into full wakefulness through grief – and not everyone comes out ennobled. But since the rewards of doing it well are as multitudinous as the stars in the sky, it behooves us to do whatever we can to come through well.
What may it take? Attention to our own needs, our state of mind. Reading. Rest. A willingness to be vulnerable again. Counseling, maybe. Talking with understanding friends. For some, prayer, meditation, participation in a healing community.
What we can be sure of is that we will be different. Whether we will be embittered and sad or compassionate and, in a deep sense, happy is not totally within our power to decide. But the outcome may be more within our power than we think. Like any birth, it has its pains and dangers. But it is new life at stake here – new life!
Marth W. Hickman
The Thought
I will use all the power I possess to come through this well.
Martha W. Hickman
This message encapsulates how I have spent all of my energy this past year (plus). These things I have done, in one form or another. I am confident that I will not be embittered but rather I feel renewed compassion for people, all of whom have their griefs and challenges to bear and come through. And though the pains and dangers still arise, I look forward to my new life, though a life without Pam, knowing she is always with me in my heart and that this is what she would want for me.
Thank you Martha Hickman (now deceased), for grounding me with your daily messages, walking with me along this arduous path through loss and grief. I am putting your book aside for now, knowing that it will be there any day of the year I need it as an anchor for my soul.
Pam’s 72nd Birthday is Tuesday, July 11th (I used to call it lucky 7/11). I am celebrating by playing my first “concert” at our home church in Northern Iowa on Sunday the 9th, a milestone in my commitment to Pam and me. It will be followed by a celebration for Pam’s Birthday with family. A celebration of Pam’s life. A celebration also of survival, of coming through.
(The third in this 3-part series to chronicle my recent trip)
Traveling down the interior west of California was less stressful than expected. My B-I-L and I worked out a route that kept me away from major cities like LA. I whizzed past vineyards and fruit farms, and on through desert, mountains, and hills, though most of the trip was through flatlands.
I eventually arriving for a visit with my niece in Palm Desert. We had a great evening catching up on our lives and drinking wine while watching the sun set over the mountains from her balcony. She enjoys the view every evening. Thank you, Mindy, for being – you, and for sharing your new life and hospitality with me. Too much fun!
On toward my next destination, a visit with Pam’s brother in Chandler, AZ. But not before a side trip to Joshua Tree National Park. This was a scheduled stop I planned when I realized that it was only a short distance out of the way to AZ. Though I hadn’t planned to stop for long, I decided to drive through the park, and am so happy I did.
Pictures don’t adequately convey the vastness of space punctuated by hundreds, even thousands, of Joshua Trees, which are actually more cactus than tree. The rock formations were an added bonus. Rock climbers frequent the craggy uprisings. There is even one called Skull Rock for obvious reasons. I did not stop for a close up as there was a crowd and I wanted to get through the park. But this is well worth the visit if you are in the general area.
Exiting the park, I was at the east end of Twenty-nine Palms, CA. I turned right and immediately came upon a sign saying “No Services Next 108 Miles.” Into the desert I went. I kept thinking about how Hotlanta insisted I bring plenty of water on the trip – just in case. Fortunately, I didn’t need it, as my trusty Honda steed performed faithfully and fluently through the gradual rises and falls across the desert landscape. And what a landscape! Broken up only by distant mountains, the paved road I was on and often could see for many miles ahead, a few named, sandy roads that darted either left or right into the tumbleweed leading to humble trailers and shacks, dwellings of those who dared challenge the harsh desert environment. On to Phoenix. Too much fun!
My brother-in-law, Dave, and I developed a connection last year during the last days of Pam’s time alive on this earth. I’m not sure if it is our artistic affinity, our place in line as third of four siblings, or just our similar natures. Whatever it is, I appreciate him and am happy to have had the opportunity to visit him in his home and hang out for an extra stopover day.
Mexican food was finally on the menu. I’d been in the southwest for nearly a week and had yet to sample this cuisine. Dave took me to a couple places having different atmosphere and menus. Thank you, Dave!
Between eating and sleeping we found time to work on a 1,500 piece jigsaw puzzle (are you done yet, Dave?) and enjoyed a hot, rocky hike up the Telegraph Pass Trail, southwest of the city. Though a bit of a challenge, we enjoyed the outdoors, exercise, and companionship afforded to those who make the journey.
That’s a tall cactus in the distance on the ridge
We started at the level of those buildings, around the mountain to the right. Dave catching a bit of the little available shade
My time with Dave was yet another in a list of highlights I experienced during this cross-country trip. I appreciate just being in good company doing things we enjoy together. What a gift! Too much fun!
Traveling on toward my next layover in Santa Fe included an unexpected side trip to Petrified Forest National Park, a remote exit along I-40 in the middle of the desert. I enjoyed browsing the visitor center and gift shop, viewing (and touching) the exhibits, and adding several shot glasses to my collection. Unfortunately, the most interesting natural displays of petrified trees are near the south end of a 26-mile drive with no way back to the interstate except by backtracking. My daily trek was too long to afford the time, so on I drove. My stay in Santa Fe was short and uneventful.
On to Kearney, Nebraska. Another beautiful, windy, undulating drive through the mountains poured me out to the rolling plains of southeast Colorado. Sadly leaving the mountains behind, I left the interstate, taking state highways through NW Kansas and up into southern Nebraska. Four states in one day.
I could see billowing, cauliflower clouds building far in the distance in the direction I was going. Technology has its place and came in handy as I opened my weather app, flipping back and fourth between it and my route in Google Maps. This led to a series of route changes keeping me west of the storms. Unfortunately, they were directly over the Kearney area. I couldn’t avoid them forever. Fortunately, I went through only a few miles of downpour on I-80 as I approached Kearney from the west. The rain was over by the time I got there and it didn’t rain again until the overnight hours.
The mad dash home with cloudy skies and the final 471 miles ahead. I caught the heavy rain again in Lincoln as, in my mind, I barreled onward toward home. It was time. Unfortunately, traffic from Omaha east was heavy, especially for a Saturday, with the unavoidable road construction and semis passing semis, which actually caused more delay than all of the construction I encountered. I just want to get home!
And, of course, I did. The end of one of the best trips I’ve had in a while. Partly for what I didn’t experience along with the good times I did. I didn’t experience constant sorrow, nor the need to be home, nor the constant pain of missing Pam, she not being able to share the trip with me, nor even the ability to call and tell her about it. Yes, I did feel those things along the way. My thoughts and emotions are still sore, but healing. I am sad that life has to be this way. But I am glad that life goes on. And, so far, with me a part of it.
Thank you, Hotlanta, for taking the initiative to make this happen. I know it was good for all of us. And it was – too much fun!
(The second in this 3-part series to chronicle my recent trip. Just a short post)
Though the drive was mostly enjoyable, the vacation really began upon arrival at California Dreamin’s house. Once I parked the car at the motel, Hotlanta and I didn’t have to do anything the entire time we were there (except me playing music). OMG! A real vacation. What’s up with that?! Snacks, drinks, open air, patio with a view! Ah.
Within a couple hours, travel snacks ingested, we were strolling along Seacliff State Beach in Aptos. The beach and campground sustained significant damage from winter storms, destroying the pier and further sinking the ship which lays prostrate just off the shoreline. But the weather was clear and “warm”, the air hinting of salt, and the sounds of the waves rolling up on the sand. After more food, drink, and live music – me – we retired for the day. Too much fun!
With California Dreamin’ and her husband as travel guides, we ventured into the “country” for a hike in the woods on day two. Another beautiful day in the hills with plenty to gawk at including a redwood stand and a mighty Eucalyptus, both for which I lay in the path to take the shots. I even talked to the trees, thanking them for – being. Too much fun!
More food, drink, and music – the second day.
Happy Birthday, California Dreamin’! With more family joining in, we celebrated with balloons and decorations, gifts, and of course, food, drink, and music. The party continues – the third day.
Our last day with California Dreamin’ was pretty much rinse and repeat with even more family to see and share in the festivities. We had such a great time catching up with everyone.
As you would expect, the time went too fast, much of it just talking, munching, and feeling like family. It is wonderful to have healthy, happy relationships with siblings (all of them!) and their families – the fourth day. Too much fun!
Though this leg of the journey was most important and enjoyable, I won’t go into detail about our family interactions, making this the shortest of the three related posts. I’m sure you understand.
Stay tuned for part three of California – Not a Bust posting on Monday, June 26th
This is the first of three posts for “California – Not a Bust” chronicling my trip to CA for my sister’s birthday. These posts will publish on successive days beginning Saturday, June 24, 2023.
Why Trip Out?!
My California Dreamin’ sister just celebrated a milestone birthday. My Hotlanta sister wanted to be there for the celebration. I chose to go to satisfy birthday wishes for both. Hotlanta’s birthday falls on the anniversary of Pam’s death, May 12th. I wanted to give her a special gift so that she knows that I totally differentiate the two events. Making the trip was a win, win, win for the three of us and we got to see several family members as a bonus!
Getting there was fun – but not even half!
Planning well in advance reduces travel stress. But I was pleasantly surprised when I arrived in Sidney, NE the first evening to find that there were no rooms available anywhere close. Glad I had a reservation! It turns out that a matriarch of the Cabela family died a few days prior. The funeral was scheduled for the next day, but the viewing and Wake began the evening I arrived. I thought it was funny seeing several men in black suits, white shirts, and skinny black ties come out of the motel as I was entering. Lots of hustle and bustle inside.
Mary Cabela was one of Cabela’s’ founders. The Cabela family is from the area and is large. Apparently the motels were packed with extended family, friends, and probably a host of loyal customers.
My son and I were in the original Sidney Cabela’s in 2002. It was a sprawling one-story structure that looked like a strip mall on the outside, and a maze of rooms with various “departments” of sporting goods of nearly all types spread throughout. Cabela’s has since sold to Bass Pro Shops.
Day two brought a nearly immediate smile as the topography quickly changed to bluffs and pastures west of Sidney. The flats of eastern Nebraska faded in my rear view as I rose further above sea level, viewing small flocks of prong-horn amongst grazing cattle, some near enough to catch their gaze, others like polka dots in the distance. Too much fun!
Mountains loomed like low-level storm clouds in the distance as I approached Cheyanne, WY. Snow pack was still prevalent atop the taller ranges to the southwest. Before long I saw snow near the highway as I continued to gain altitude and began to weave my way through the rocky ranges.
To my delight, mountains surrounded me for the rest of my journey to Salt Lake City, my second stop. Wind and rain welcomed me as I traversed the city, ending up on the west side where I could see the Lake’s low water level from my motel room. Wind and rain continued into the night, the American flag in front of the building snapping so loud it woke me in the middle of the night.
The morning brought calm, sunny weather, ideal for the next leg of the journey. I drove along the south end of the lake for miles, as it transformed into salty desert landscape, flat as a table top, with mountain ranges surrounding both near and far. I didn’t realize that I was heading for the Bonneville Salt Flats until I came to the exit for the flats and the Bonneville Speedway. Though I’d traveled through here in 2006, I didn’t remember seeing them. Too much fun!
I continued west to Reno, NV through mountain passes and vast desert land, smiling the whole way. Fair weather, comfortable car, Goin’ Mobile.
I wish I could say that the entire journey to the south of the bay on day four was a pleasure. But as expected, California driving is not a California dream! Traffic picked up as I approached the state line, headed toward Sacramento. On west from there for a while then a sharp turn south toward San Jose. Traffic. Interstate parking lots for no apparent reason. Yep. Just what I expected. The one positive part of this experience was the presence of flowering shrubs and Eucalyptus trees in the medians and along the shoulders of the interstate. Unfortunately, I couldn’t gawk for fear of hitting another sardine in the tin, or the or the tin itself!
My sister chose to fly to CA, approximately nine hours door to door. I chose to drive three and a half days. We arrived at California Dreamin’s house within an hour of each other. Let the party begin!
Stay tuned for part two of California – Not a Bust posting on Sunday, June 25th
