Leaving Can Be Hard: Departing from Morro Bay

I have arrived in LIttlefield, Arizona, just on the far side of the Nevada border. It was a long, tiring drive. The morning began beautifully, with “Barely” showing me how he feeds the blue jays from his porch. That was the highlight of the day. After that, Cholame, then Bakersfield, and then the Mojave desert which seemed to go on and on and on and eventually I reached Las Vegas. There was a major crowd drawing event, the Blue Man Group, playing somewhere near the Tropicana and a huge traffic jam ensured. But let me just say leaving can be hard. Especially California

“Barely” the AirBnB host Feeds the Jays

This was actually very cool. Barely had been telling me that the jays would come and eat from your hand, but since I’d arrived every time he tried to get them, they saw me and wouldn’t come. The food for the jays is a large jar of whole peanuts. After trying for days, perhaps because they knew I was leaving, finally, the jays decided to come for breakfast. Swooping down out of the sky above the second floor garden porch, a jay would grab a peanut from Barely’s hand and then smash the shell of it on the porch railing.

“You see,” he told me, “They’re very smart.” He explained that the jays develop hiding places for the peanuts, and sometimes instead of eating them right away they stash them. Each jay may have as many as 100 secret hiding places. What’s more, they use a first in, first out system to keep the food fresh. Barely reported that the neighbors all know him as the guy who feeds the jays.

My motto from all this? Patience obtains all things. At least it obtains getting to watch the jays be hand fed.

Green Hillsides and Oak Trees

So I drove out, along Old Creek Road, and took a few pictures of the Coast Range, green in spring. In a little while, the hills will go gold with summer drought, but today, in March, the hills are green and rivulets of water are running everywhere. It reminded me of childhood, when we used to visit the state parks, especially Sugar Loaf Ridge in Vallejo. It seemed then that nothing would ever change. Childhood feels incredibly long. A year is a year is a year, so why were the birthdays so slow in coming? I can remember camping with Dad and he would pour the last of his coffee on the fire and say “We’re leaving, time to pack up, strike the tents, roll the sleeping bags … ”

“No, Dad, No.”

“Yes, you have to go to school tomorrow.”

And leaving can be hard, especially when you remember being a child in a place and you see the Coast Range is still green in spring and yellow in summer.

Recrossing the Mojave

The Mohave desert, for the purpose of this drive, begins at Tehachapi and goes on through Bakersfield over the California/Nevada border. Then it continues up to Las Vegas and all the way to St. George Utah where I haven’t reached yet. Basically, the desert is eight hours of driving in which there’s mostly sand and sagebrush. You remember when you drive across this desert how it’s said there’s not enough water in the West. One might argue that there *is* enough water in Morro Bay and San Luis Obispo, but not really in the Mojave desert, and whoever thought building Las Vegas in the middle of it … let’s just say they weren’t into sustainability.

In the Desert, It’s the Water For Sure

Lake Meade, where Las Vegas’ water comes from, has been shrinking, although this year and last year were good for snowfall, and apparently Las Vegas is trying to find new ways to water it’s golf courses. Because I’m from Colorado, to protect my *own* water supply I had brought five water bottles filled at Barely’s place. “You can’t have too much water, Baby,” I said to myself, checking the bottles. I wondered for a second if I should have brought the five gallon camping water container.

A Bit of Rain in the Desert

I did absolutely crack myself up by noticing, as I drove up to Tehachapi, that the phone was held between my knees and I’d taken a picture of myself upside down. And I did drive through a rain shower coming towards Barstow as John Mayer sang “Fear is a friend that’s misunderstood. But I know the heart of life is good.” I needed to hear that today.

I was feeling like leaving can be hard. It’s hard when you’re driving through beautiful countryside and it’s hard when you’re driving through a barren desert. I drove through Barstow and was sleepy so I pulled off and took a quick nap in the Starbuck’s parking lot on Main Street. When I woke up, 20 minutes later, I considered going to Starbucks but there were five cars in line. Forget it! It wasn’t a coffee emergency.

In the end, the problem that happened wasn’t running out of water *or* coffee, though I drank most of the water. And it wasn’t gasoline, although I did have to pay $5 a gallon at a gas station called “Terrible’s” outside a casino near the California/Nevada border. I thought “Terrible’s? Well, they weren’t kidding.”

Leaving Can Be Hard, and it can Also Cause Brain Fog

The problem was that my phone almost ran out of power. And I wasn’t sure where the cord was. Now, how would I find the AirBnB without the phone which had the address and directions? I wondered should I pull over, check the phone, write down the directions, and turn it off? Or dig through the baggage once the car was parked? But I didn’t. I thought there was no good place to stop. And I panicked thinking it would soon be dark. So there I was, driving down the I-15 at 80 miles per hour, like everyone else, but worried that the phone would die and I would be unable to figure out where I was sleeping.

I made it with 2% power to a cabin on an old Mormon homestead next to the Virgin River. Note to myself: Do not rely totally on phone powered navigation ever again. Irritating, to catch yourself being disorganized and unable to respond systematically to a problem. It’s the Amelia Erhart thing again — remember how I said I was navigating on my own and that was tricky? Anyway, I suppose I can ascribe it to my stress from leaving California. Because leaving can be hard. Grief itself can cause brain fog and errors. Whether it’s a person, a place, or something about yourself that is exiting your life, it’s hard. And I felt that today. Leaving can be hard.

I had forgotten the phone cord. But I had an extra stashed in the dash console. Thankfully, all was well in the end.

Reflection? Fear is a friend that’s misunderstood.