I’m not even sure how to begin retelling the story of the first day of this trip. Everything started out innocently enough. I awoke yesterday long before my alarm was scheduled to sound. This could be attributed to my horribly sore muscles begging for attention, or it could be related to my long history of waking up early due to distrusting alarm clocks. Either way, I awoke an hour or two before I should have, showered, packed, and waited for Ilya to pick me up so we could head over to Steve’s and begin our caravan to the bay area.
Steve had wanted to leave at 10am, but we didn’t reach his apartment until closer to 10:30. He still had more items to pack from his room, he had to drop off his keys, and we needed to fill up our three cars with gas (Steve drove the U-Haul, I drove Steve’s car, Ilya drove his own). By the time we left, it was noon. There was steady traffic in the 5-North for the first hour of the drive (which afforded me plenty of opportunities to goof off), but once the traffic began to separate, we sailed smoothly for the next hundred miles. Steve called ahead to me and asked if I needed gas, or wanted something to eat, and I obliged. We decided to meet at an exit with a Shell station and an In-N-Out. I called ahead to Ilya, but his phone was turned off, so while we stopped, he continued on his way. I still had over a half tank of gas, and wasn’t that hungry, but the break from driving was slightly refreshing.
By the time I had travelled 270 miles, I was out of fuel. I needed to stop, but my call back to Steve asking him to exit and pay for gas was greeted with a negative response. I was told to stop on my own, pay for it, and I would be reimbursed later. Steve sped onward. At this point, I was in Santa Nella / Guistine. Steve was maybe 10 miles behind me. Ilya was now close to 35 miles in front of us.
My detour lasted only five or ten minutes, and then I was back on the road. Twelve miles later, between Santa Nella and Guistine, the rear right tire of Steve’s car blew out. I instantly knew what had happened, but something inside me prayed that the loud rumbling sound was just a low-flying helicopter. Since this clearly was not the case, I slowly and cautiously pulled onto the shoulder of the the interstate. This is what surrounded me:
I called back to Steve to look out for me and stop to help, but apparently he had overtaken me and was 30 miles in front of me. So, I was stranded on the side of I-5 North in the middle of nowhere calling AAA for a tow truck. Steve told me to simply change the tire and finish the drive myself, but he did not know that his car contained only a donut, and anyone who has ever used a donut knows that you’re not supposed to exceed a certain speed (30mph?), and the tire is only good for a certain distance (50 miles?). Lucky for me, I’m an AAA Plus member, so to tow the car the rest of the way to Oakland was free, since it was within 100 miles of my current location.
I sat baking in the heat, waiting for the tow truck. I phoned Fawn, my sister, and Matt while I waited. And waited. When the truck arrived, I helped my new friend David swap the front and back tires, apply the donut, and hoist the car onto the truck. Then we realized the donut was flat, and we had to fill it with air. Finally, we climbed into his truck and sped off (slowly) towards Oakland. The remainder of the drive took 90 minutes. Dave pointed out all the different farms and told me what the main crops were (almonds, oranges, mandarins, tomatoes, squash, zucchini, etc.). I asked questions about his hometown of Guistine, and the surrounding area. I traded texts with friends. We listened to Top 40 radio and a classical station. Dave taught me all about his two CB radios, and the optimal conditions under which they work best.
I arrived at Steve’s completely exhausted, only to find that absolutely nothing had been unpacked from the U-Haul. It was as if everyone was waiting for me with a big surprise that was sure to make me happy upon my inevitable entrance into town, and that awesome surprise was hours of tedious labor. Magically, the entire contents of the truck were unloaded over the course of the night. Though Steve and Lyz (who had come to help the unloading process) were ready to call it a night and finish the job in the morning, I persuaded them to try a few more things, and sure enough we finished a short while later. Even the grossly expensive, over-sized couch made it up into the elevator (with some help from me when I knocked the ceiling tiles out to afford us an extra few inches of space), the mattress, box spring, and all the dressers and bookcases were transported with relative ease.
I slept on the couch.
We spent all of today in San Francisco. Here’s Alcatraz, as seen from the Bay Bridge! Steve, Lyz and I unloaded some furniture at Lyz’s apartment. Afterwards we had lunch at a small joint on Mission, where I ate a real, legitimate mission burrito at Taqueria Can-Cun(you know, the style co-opted by Qdoba, Chipotle, Baja Fresh and the like).
Then Lyz left to make an important conference call, Ilya went to find an Internet cafe, and Steve and I wandered around the district. I went to Aquarius Records and spent eighty-five dollars before being yanked out of the store. When Lyz’s conference call was completed, the three of us drove the U-Haul back to Oakland to return it (I followed them in Ilya’s car), and then drove back again to San Francisco to hang out, and drink, and walk or drive various places for the rest of the night. Dolores Park, Revolution Cafe, a house in Lower Haight, and Cafe Du Nord were involved. A relatively good time was had by all.
Oh yeah, and apparently I am staying here another day/night now. Ilya wanted to do something with bikes and indie rock clubs, so Steve and I are going to organize the apartment and hang out in Berkley for a while. I’m not sure if there are any plans for this evening.
Pictures will be posted upon my return.
