Where am I and how did I get myself into this situation?
Sandy met me at the gas station just off the 205, connecting Portland to San Francisco. A slight woman of 34, youthful in appearance and very, very Jewey. Abundant in hippy vibes and hair, lots of hair. Large flowing curls of dark brown from her head, armpits, legs and bush. She responded to my Craigslist ad stating that a polite young Canadian was trying to get to San Fran to visit friends. She didn’t mention anything about her two oversized parcels named Droopy and Albert (one of which had only one eye, but who knows which one). Both highly energetic dogs, that took up not only the entire two back seats but also the trunk of her dark green late 80s BMW station wagon.
The plan was to leave Portland at 10pm, and arrive in San Fran the following morning. Where and when sleep would come I did not know. Sandy drove until 3 am, obviously exhausted we pulled into hippy commune camp site with camper van’s tents and teepees. She warned me that we may be woken in the night to pay a camping fee, but we slept undisturbed in her tent. The sky was clear, allowing the carpet of tiny star to shine through the sky. The air was brisk in the typical California way. She slept in her thermal sleeping bag, pillow and Thermarest, me in my jeans and a sweater, socks, a pillow made from my towel. My only warmth was a donated blanket that served as both mattress and covering. The morning came quickly, and as we pack, she mentioned the hot springs that lay on the same camp ground. After the spa $6 entrance fee we took a quick soak in the sulfur smelling swimming pool that is supposedly fed from ground water springs. Rip-off. We hit the road again,
This adventure was an interesting one, and I’m lucky to still be alive. Sandy had a thing about not letting others driver her car. She grilled me about how long I’d been driving, and my skills behind the wheel before promptly declining my offer to help. I guess she didn’t want help with the driving, fine by me, cause she gets nervous as a passenger. I have never seen such a skilled driver do so many things while driving. Skilled not in her ability to drive-which was quite scary by the way- but skilled in the sense that I saw this woman do things that I never though possible while driving. Rolling cigarettes, with filters; pulling celery sticks from a mason jar with dirty fingers and dipping them into the neck of a salad dressing bottle (organic of course) for a snack; GPSing our location on her touch screen Palm Pilot phone; organizing and reading mail; oh yeah and avoiding accidents. When awoken abruptly by the swerving and screeching of the tires, I was told not it worry. She just didn’t see the brake lights of the car in front of us as it slowed down to about 40 mph while we were exceeding the 70mph limit by at least fifteen. You know those bumps that they put down in between the lanes? Turns out those are not for separating traffic, but for vibrating my ass. Same with those grooved rumble strips on the outside of the extreme right and left lanes. It’s better than those massage chairs at the mall, risk to life and limb aside. Indicating, seatbelts, directions, who needs them? Certainly, not Sandy. We had a steady 75mph (limit 65) going all the way down highway 5 and it still managed to take us almost 24 hours. How did a ten hour trip take so long? Oh, right, swimming.
Sandy did take me to a beautiful swimming hole near Mt Shasta. The clear water was a refreshing break from the California mid day sun. The first time that is. After that detour, every lake, creek, river and puddle that she saw made her want to get out and take a dip. The dogs needed to roam, she would say, it’s too damn hot. We stopped two more times before making it the San Francisco city limits. The indecision posed by this woman made her eligible to be an Olympic judge. By the time she figured out which friend to visit, where they lived, and how to get there, we were totally lost. Then we found another beach. I had had my fill, and my voice on the phone to my mother’s friend d’Este indicated as such. She promptly came to pick me up, and save me from my little adventure, unbelievably all in one piece.
