Some of this is backtracking. Actually, almost all of it. I've already talked about the long-term results of this trip, but I felt like going back into it, revisiting the coast from the plains of South Dakota where I sit in a hotel room, decked out again in suit-styled fashion for some reason or another and I'm thinking back to when I could see the ocean. So what better thing to do than bring you all with me.
To begin, I cannot begin to describe how it felt on my poor fractured eyes to gaze into Oregon again after punishing them severely with a month of Arizona summer and the brown and the glare and the dust. For those of you who do not know, there are moments in Arizona (those moments are called "every day") when even as late as five o'clock it is upwards of a hundred degrees. So off I go at the airport in Portland, still kicking around in shorts and Reefs, and I'm actually a little cold, how grand, then I am bathed in the cool green of the lush life there, especially as we headed off to to rose gardens and I walked around relieving my afflicted eyes and getting some use out of my poor, dull nose. (I should mention here that the we in all of this is myself and Ashley, a good friend from Oregon who I conjoled into letting me use her car for this roadtrip and to keeping me company the whole way, what a doll.)
Of course, while Portland was grand and all, the point of this trip (beyond the real point, which was to make it to San Francisco and interview for medical school) was to make it to the coast and live by the ocean again, for at least a short while. We started in Newport, finangling a haircut out of Ashley's mom and paying her back with a couple of hours of work in a local tourist shop where despite being forbidden to do so by the crew I did talk to a few people and pretended I knew answers to questions about local lore. At one point I answered a question correctly even about "authentic glass floats" but only because I had asked the same one about an hour before. Good times.
To sum up, the rest of the trip was basically simply filled with beautiful sunshine, winding coastal roads, camping at night, and a couple of great days playing tourists in San Francisco walking miles all the time and resolutely missing our ferry because I failed to notice it was actually supposed to be a bus. I must say a few great things about our host there, called up a few weeks before, and to my pleasure, my friend Lyra came through and offered up her mother's house as a place for me to stay. Now Cecelia was a perfect host, having cookies for us when we arrived, making dinner for us even though we came home so late, and just incredibly pleasant the whole time. I'm dreadfully sorry that all of the hosts I've had over the past few months don't get the same write-up, but I have the time for this one so I'm taking it. I might have even worked my way into an offer to have a room to rent once I make it back to the area for school in a year.
The whole trip was such a relief. I had spent some time in Arizona worrying about the state of affairs, and in one swell foop, on a beautiful day I managed to arrainge a year off for the trip to Africa, what should be a solid admittance into school the following year, time to go to Nate's wedding, and even a place to live when I return. And I spent time worrying for some reason. I should take this and learn it, that God comes through, and I have nothing to want for. Of course, I can already feel the concern building up for other areas, "But, yeah, what about this, how in the world will this area of my life be taken care of." For those of you who might not know me well, welcome to my stubborn self.
The morale of the story is simple. If you ever have to go to an important event like an interview, it's always best to pad a couple of days on either side for a brilliant road trip aling the coast with camping, music, food, and a solid friend. It helps if she's cute, but I don't suppose it's absolutely necissary.
- a quick note to all my nosy family, this is a pre-emptive "We are friends, that is all."
