Leaving San Diego - April 18

With knowledge of the purpose of my journey - to gain the confidence and the trust necessary to step away from all that is comfortable and known - I left my friends in San Diego for the unfamiliar terrain and populace that lay before me in the parts of the country I had never before laid eyes upon.

Perhaps it was because I had built a connection to something comfortable and easy back home, or perhaps it was that I really did not know what I was doing out here - on this lonely road, trying to find answers to questions I didn't even yet understand - but I had trouble letting go of my fears and doubts. I thought this journey necessitated my traveling alone, but the stops at friend's houses and the good company and laughs made me realize that perhaps this was a journey best shared, at least in part.

My mind consistently balked at the idea of a traveling companion as I was under the self created impression that this trip was best served with no distractions, as this would maximize my focus on the dilemma of what it was I wanted out of life. But, over time, I had begun to realize that being with friends is one of the things that truly makes me happy and is too often a missing aspect of my life.

At Kyle's suggestion Tim thought about tagging along over the next few days but wrestled with the short notice. He feared that, should his recruiter call or a job opportunity fall into his lap, leaving unprepared would not be in his best interest. I too was hesitant to have him come - though I could see the benefit of having someone other than my own mind to bounce ideas and conversation off of - as I was headed to Albuquerque to see Amberlee, one of my ex-players from Corvallis who had become one of my closest friends. I had not seen her in a year and a half and worried that Tim would not feel included, that his lack of knowledge to numerous inside jokes would leave him feeling like a third wheel.

So with my trepidation over having to entertain, and his own distrust of the employment process, we left the decision to fate, that fickle and unknown, unbiased perception that we hoped would provide us a solid choice. The flip of a coin was our decider, heads being his travel, tails being his fear.

Fate was fickle that day and we went into the final flip tied one to one. Flicking it into the air I misjudged its reentry and it fell to the ground clanging noisily on the driveway. It finally came to rest tails up and I was off, minus one indecisive passenger, headed east across the state of California, my destination Joshua Tree National Park, a refuge of rock and plant life more well known in the artwork of a U2 album than in its own true and natural beauty.

The drive East was both barren and beautiful, a desolate landscape of red and brown. The highways were lined with sand and rock interspersed with plant life attempting to carve out an existence from the scraggly ground, their lives dependent upon what little water is provided. It was obvious the model people of the area had chosen to follow as they too attempted to scratch out an existence from the seemingly lifeless soil as towns sprouted up out of nowhere and mobile homes far removed from any real road sat lifelessly in the middle of the desert. I could only imagine the existence, lonely and boring in my eyes, and was reinforced in this belief when I came upon a tree adorned with shoes, their laces tied together and flung over every possible branch in a rite of passage or out of sheer boredom.

The landscape lining the road just outside of Joshua Tree was rife with beauty and little dirt paths roaming off into hills provided access to unseen camping spots, but I decided to make my way all the way into the park, a desire to see for myself what made this place so beautiful pulling me along.

Entering the southern gate late that evening I set about looking for a place to sleep and drove a few miles north until I came to a full Cottonwood campground. Instead of fighting for what few spots remained elsewhere in the park I decided that I would drive to the Cottonwood trail lot and park for the night - this is one of the great perks about having a camper, you really can sleep anywhere.

The remaining few moments of daylight were spent nearby climbing rocks and investigating the plant and animal life around me; the beauty of the area was offset again by my fear of the unknown and I found myself praying all the while to not run into any tarantulas, as their hairy legs and massive bulk scare the crap out of me.

That night I climbed out my driver's side window and lay atop my camper just staring at the huge sky and its abundance of stars. Lost again in contemplation as to why I was here and the purpose of this whole journey I found myself wishing I had someone to share it all with, someone to make me comfortable again.