Southern Cal and The Seqoia's

    I once read "a person must have a magnificent reason  in writing their life story and expecting anyone to read it"  I have at times, been bored to tears perusing thick, exhaustive un-intriguing autobiographies of historical legends; yet my idea of writing stems from a desire to expound upon simple thoughts and formulate those ideas into expressions of reality. For many times, only in writing can your thoughts flow freely; unencumbered by the repressive confines of  day to day living and society's norms; concealed idea's you were unaware you possess,  can begin to surface. I used to think unless your name is Mozart, Churchill, General Patton or Barack Obama you should probably spend your free time finger painting or playing shuffleboard, because nobody outside your Mother  will want to hear the particulars of your pitiable existence and it will end how it began--with a wheeze. Others hold back from loquacious reminiscing; because talking about their past would be like reopening  a wound that has hence scared over, not to be pricked or pried with; yet as humans, we all share failures together and openness about thoughts and perceptions is a rare virtue. The rigors of life with the exception of the past few years have been relatively undemanding for me and I found success easily attainable; yet I write about this trip, because this is the year it all un-stitched like that of a snagged sweater.  

         That being said, bear with me as I plow ahead with my flimsy recollections of an unexpected journey through the country. After my night of debaucheries in Las Vegas(not to be serious, rather- tourism of a point of interest). I parked the car about forty miles out at a forlorn gas station, whither it was in or out of business I had no idea. I was to drowsy to exert much energy at this point and  forwent the folding back the seat (legs protruding into the trunk) routine, cranked back the lever grabbed my velvet blanket and crashed. I was promptly roused  from sleep by a sharp rap on my window; thinking of nothing but safety, and unwilling to be drug out and shot like a helpless animal I groped for my keys. However, once I cleared the cobwebs and my jumbled thoughts arranged linearly again, I decided to take a gander and venture out. I found myself staring blankly at two strangers, they were profusely apologizing for the inconvenience, explaining their car broke down and if I could give them a lift. One of them appeared to have had a few hashes to many and was tweaking. At first I asked if they could find anyone else to give them a lift. Surely they know somebody,  maybe a sister will come out, anybody but me. They said they'd try. I crawled back in my car and passed out, shortly after I was awoken by another knock on the window, with a bewildered moan accompanying with something intelligent like ooga, I stumbled out again, my friends were back, they were both babbling so rapidly and incoherently about their desperate plight that at this point I was like what the hell, Ill take you guys to your car. I explained "One would have to dig a hole in the backseat to locate space". With some random hippie on my right and drugged out fellow in back I located the interstate and roared off, back in the direction of Vegas. The baked gentleman in back kept thanking me, asking if I was an angel, I reiterated no, I was in the flesh; the hippie offered a $20 bill for the trouble which I also said no to. About 10 miles down and no sight yet of their car, I said you know, Ill take the 20 actually. 5 miles later we found a dilapidated car on the roadside which happened to be theirs. A moment that stayed with me, was right before the hippie shut the door, he  grabbed my hand, rather to tightly I thought, thanking me, yet instead of apprehension somehow the words "do you know Jesus slipped out" He said yes, I said "get to know him better" He looked back with a smile and promised he would. I'm not sure what moved me to say those words, but it was a spiritual moment for sure.   

    Waking up later than usual that morning I found the freeway and sped west toward the California border. Western California offered great contrast of scenery.  The rain soaked terrain led to a green embellishing, permeated by large boulders throughout Riverside, CA. where I visited a my moms cousin. I decided not to go to L.A., the only ideal place of interest was Hollywood and through prior research, wasn't that motivated. The next destination was Sequoia Nat'l Park. I didn't make it; due to spending the day visiting and taking in the terrain around Riverside.  I slept outside the Park that night.

                       
     At Daybreak I felt weary, bedraggled and strung out,from the road; yet Sequoia welcomed me with alluring splendor, upon gaining elevation I was overlooking mountainous topography; a swift flowing rocky stream underlined the base of a glaciated mountain range. The higher snow laden elevations were comprised of a thin layer of fog which added to the scenic appeal. A fresh blast of cool mountain air hit me and I thought; this is Great Success. Upon reaching the snow line however I read a sign warning tourists to 'chain up'. By now I was experienced in chain application, and slipped them on with lil trouble, however when circling my car I noticed my right rear wheel was sagging badly and had a puncture hole. I MacGyver'd up a quick solution spitting out my wad of gum and clogged the hole. IDK how but surprisingly it stayed attached for the duration of day and proved to be a temporary 'quick fix'. unfortunately as I climbed even further in elevation the fog cover thickened which made for obscured viewing. Yet the snow coating the giant sequoia tree's made for picturesque winter scenery.

      Upon breaching the summit, I asked a stranger if he could snap a pic of me attempting to hug a giant sequoia tree, I covered about a tenth of its circumference, after the shot of hugging earth mother, I mention how being in the east coast, they stereotyped us all as liberal tree huggers.  I found that perception unfair to everyone, he then responded "yeah I have a giant tree tattooed on my back so I love tree's."  baffled I replied "yeah that's cool,t tree's are great" and upon leaving  thought maybe everyone on the east having that  impression,   isn't that far off. 

      The snow level was about 6 feet at the first summit. The parking lot was full, from the visitor center; you had  shuttle over to the General Sherman tree. However, due to the snow level, half the park was shut down. The only way out was back down the mountain side; I decided to forgo the General Sherman tree and drive back to reach San Fran that night, having just found out my cousin Brent was going to be visiting  the Stanford and Berkeley campuses and was hoping to meet up. There was apparently to much need for speed; at the next bend as I rounded a corner I was  turning and just, kept turning. I was picking up speed  sliding down sideways, taking up both lanes of the road. I glanced right to find no guardrail. My heart rate was picking up speed as well at this point. I saw a snowy embankment on the left. and quickly wrenched  the steering all the way to the left crashing into the drift with some velocity. The impact jarred me, but I had no time to recover as I found I was in the wrong lane facing the wrong way. I saw a truck coming up in my rear view mirror and with chewed up snow spraying every direction, gunned the accelerator up and over the embankment, finally I was back on the road. I was more alert than ever now observing careful driving procedures the rest of the way down.

                                                                                         On reaching the bottom I focused on putting some distance in and sped toward San Fran. Once I passed what seemed like good million acres of wine country I went up over another mountain pass, when I went out to get gas the snow flakes were floating down, it was a refreshing experience. I must admit I was glad to see the snow again. I made it to San Fran around 8 that night. I actually met up with Brent on some dark street corner in Berkely, when he saw me his first question was "Kyle, what are you doing here" Well I'm traveling, up through the state etc. He just said "No really, what are you doing here?" I just said, you know that's a good question; we still laugh about that now. I found a place to sleep in Berkeley that night and after enjoying the luxury of a much needed hot shower, passed out for the night.

 (On the ascent I helped a man find his chains that apparently slipped off, he offered to take a  pic of me in  front of a great backdrop which I accepted)

Hoover Dam and my night in Vegas

Day 14
      

      I woke up early due to the numbing sensation of the cold, I was bundled up like an Eskimo and had to unravel myself like that of a caterpillar emerging from a cocoon. Locating my keys was always a challenge in the morning, once accomplished my first coherent move was getting a good current of heat circuiting, unwilling to open the back door and risk the fresh blast of air, I repositioned myself and plunged forward into the drivers seat. These routines always felt like I was crawling into the cockpit of my own ship.  I was soon entering the desert plains of Nevada. The dullness of the scenery soon stymied any excitement that was still lingering after the idyllic night at the Grand Canyon.

        

I was in route to the Hoover Dam. Once I arrived and found parking I felt lethargic and wished for a piping hot double shot Americano to rejuvenate the senses. There was a road  accompanied by a walkway spanning the summit of the dam. Due to the lay of the land the wind  funneled down between canyons with great velocity.  The sheer extent of the drop below I found to be quite alarming, that combined  with being swayed by the force of the sweeping gale was enough to clear my senses without the needed asset of caffeine. There were danger signs spray-painted across the concrete ledge to warn the naive 'Steep slope' and then a little further down "Keep off wall" this was an obscure one, if your considering leaping, would this label actually stop you?  Maybe it alerted people who were in the mood to flirt with disaster and go 'whoop' right over. I got a few pics on top of the dam. One person that I regretted handing my camera to because of the language barrier; I found her aiming the camera elsewhere, and had to tell her to aim for my smiling face I then recollect her actually pointing it backwards while saying "okay smile" She must have been talking to herself. Another comical event anyway. It astounded me the  true volume of water mass the dam was holding back, I pictured for the second, the amazing amount of devastation that could occur, were the dam to break loose, it was a terrorizing thought to entertain.

           

       After Hoover Dam I got back in the car and re-routed, orientating myself in the direction of Las Vegas. At first, I wasn't sure whither to hit up Vegas, since being by myself would take some of the luster off the visit, but I figured I'd at least drive through. It was nightfall before I breached the outskirts of the city that never sleeps, upon entering and passing Safeway's and Subway's I finally after some hindrance  reached the strip with all the hubbub. Upon entering the strip I felt very much out of place, like a lost and weary pilgrim who just stumbled across Satan's playground instead of the holy land. I parked and with no clear game plan, grabbed a water bottle and stumbled out into the night. 

 

         

          The first attraction was a fountain that shot jets of water into the night in rhythm with  a symphony, it was located in the heart of a pool of water outlying the Bellagio Hotel. I stood there perched over the rail transfixed for probably a half hour. The lights over the water combined with the harmonious background music was spellbinding. I eventually moved on to the Bellagio hotel and Ceasers palace both were decorated with ornate architecture. After being witness to such posh, I returned outside and wandered further up the strip. I tried my hand at Gambling at some cheap slot machines, the first time I won 4 bucks and was hit with a case of 'gamblers bane': not quitting white your ahead. After losing 25 bucks I left feeling ripped off.

        Soon after, I decided to attempt frequenting a local strip joint but was stopped at the door on my first attempt and informed there was a 4 drink minimum, being a lightweight already I decided this was not a good move on my part. I was in Vegas alone without a DD, with plans to leave that night and had no desire to have my ass in a sling. Many people screamed by shouting "wheww yeah Vegas baby!" in very close proximity. I didnt share the same level of enthusiasm due to my utter lostness and lack of company. I feel like the whole point of Vegas is to make you feel trapped, like you can never get out of Vegas. At least it seemed to be designed that way After walking around for awhile I started seeing the same stores and bars and by the time I saw Ceasers palace from all 4 different angles I was beginning to feel uneasy. 3 hours later I finally located the fountain and soon after my car.

   

Aside from the architecture and aesthetic appeal.Vegas struck me as a black sink hole that sucks your money and time away and leaves you unfulfilled. It could have been the fact I was merely sightseeing however I'd rather be traversing Europe and exploring the rich history of the Santa Maria del Fiore in Florance or snorkling in the Caribbean than Gambling in Vegas, in fact I can hardly think of a bigger waste of money or time. One time I once came across a group of middle and high school girls with no supervision just walking around and it hit me how incredibly naive it was for that lack of foresight. After that, I was repulsed by the street vending prostitution.With these thoughts being mulled over in my head on the way out, I eventually found an old town with a gas station, located a parking spot folded the seat back and unsuccessfully attempted to crash. I couldn't sleep, my mind was racing.

      I had an epiphany of sorts that night. In my perception: Life and nature are similar concepts because nature is the study of how life acts and interacts within our circle of existence. When we take the time to examine the beauty of the world around us, we are able to see parallels within our own lives. It becomes a shrinking experience and we begin to think outside ourselves. All of nature moves in a spiral as do our personal lives. Not everyone responds to beauty in the same way; many are aware of it but don't allow it to light up the sentiment with reverent peace of mind. Material possessions don't please the way the natural elements can. My curiosity about the earth transcends my curiosity for other things. Desiring to find natural beauty inherently lies within the core desires of our being. uninhibited, unequivocal untouched by the corrosion of the mind. and only subject to the whims and harmonies of the free floating elements of the species. I see delicate beauty as soul stirring graffiti. After The Grand Canyon my eyes were opened to the depth of the of the natural world and self actualization was fully attained.