I love stories.
Last night, I frantically downloaded The Hobbit, read by Andy Serkis, to my phone. My Adventures in Odyssey subscription, which makes my 10 hour shifts bearable, was not cooperating with my desperate attempts to renew it. The idea of a shift alone with my thoughts is not a pleasant one. That's not to say that I'd necessarily enter some depressive episode or anything, I'd just be bored. The internet is the most powerful tool mankind has ever come up with, while also the greatest self-harm. Focus and solitary thought is too rare now. Regardless, my hungry mind spent the majority of my shift listening to The Hobbit. I actually got 8 Hours 41 minutes of the 10 hours 42 minutes in today, although I did continue to listen during my drive after work,
I don't know what wanderlust possesses me, but it's one I cannot and will not deny. I love stories that are descriptive and untamed and magical. I love the forest. I love the hills. I love being far out into nature, whether I'm on two feet or two wheels, alone or with companions. That last sentence is dry, along with tis paragraph so far, but I'm too tired to go back and rework it. It's 4:15 AM as I write this. I have a pull towards gravel roads and hills and forests and prairies and mountains and the far north and fields that I don't understand. A jaunt for fresh air is one thing (and a wonderful thing at that), but this is a deep, ingrained desire to point the wheels away from civilization and drive until I run out of gas. I want to go build a fort on the shore of some great northern lake where my only company is the wildlife. Maybe. I dunno. I also want to go to Antarctica someday. (note to self: Ask mom if I was dropped when I was little.)
My wanderlust was in full force tonight, as whisperings of snow had flurried around my social circles the past few days. I love snow. I've never really driven in snow, but I'm always seeking scenarios to broaden my driving portfolio. It would have been incredibly unwise for me to leave work at 2:35 alone in near freezing temps and dense fog with a poorly functioning vehicle heater and a "we're gonna go find snow or die trying" attitude equipped. I did.
There's a spot in the hills called Four Corners. It's the intersection of two gravel and two paved roads, and it sees a lot of traffic. Offroading and shooting are popular here, as well as being in prison, and it's a hub for all of the above. It's a way to get to Larch Corrections Center, Jones Creek ORV Area, Yacolt Burn State Forest, and other, farther out places. It's probably a 6-8 mile climb from the valley floor, and if snow was anywhere it would be hiding around some forest bend in that direction. It called to me.
Maybe there's something in me that wants to be rebellious or individualistic after sitting on an assembly line all day where your every move is regulated and uniform. I got lectured at least twice today on not picking up a component with the correct hand and other things. When I mentioned that I have shoulder issues which make it uncomfortable to reach in the already awkward way required (I was slightly put off by the training approach my boss takes and by it being the first day of training on that station) she said that my "employment depended on this station and the one next to it." She went on to say that if I can't do those stations at the proper speed, I'll lose my job. It's annoying, but It's the real world and I don't know that I would manage my company any differently. Regardless, I'm not big on authority in general, and I think I just wanted to do something stupid that at least I was in control of.
I eased the economy car up, up, upwards into the mountains. It's front wheel drive with not even so much as traction control, and the road conditions concerned me. The last thing I wanted was some expensive recovery bill, or worse, to have to walk to cell phone service in a forest with at least one active cougar and other wildlife. In a moment of caution, I cycled the dashboard display until it showed the outside temperature, 32 degrees Fahrenheit. Dry roads most of the way up were a very welcome luxury. I peered out the windshield at the ditches in the headlight beam, searching for any signs of snow. Eventually, they appeared.
Brown, dirty, small, and patchy it appeared at first, but it soon gave way to solid white on either side of the still clear road as I climbed higher. I love snow. As I cautiously snaked the last few miles up to Four Corners, the snow off of the road got deeper. The road itself now had some on it, and became fairly slick. I drove slow.
I'll continue my account momentarily, but first I'd like to bring to your attention a similar drive I took earlier in the year. I drove up the same road one night after youth group, if I recall correctly, alone. This was long before any snow. It was dark, probably between 9 and 10 PM. I drove up through Four Corners and into Yacolt Burn State Forest. I drove up and down the mountain, passing a few cars scattered, likely looking at the stars or the lights. One white Tacoma I drove by had some romantic Christmas or fairy lights in the bed, and I believe a couple snuggling and stargazing or the like. Classic Tacoma Boyfriend behavior. I came to a bend in the road, far away from any other vehicles or people, and parked.
I turned off the car and got out. It was pitch black except for the city lights and heavenly bodies. The darkness, solemn, and full of fell creatures blanketed me. I was terrified, alone, and very much out of my comfort zone. I felt exposed to aggressive animals, aggressive plants, but most of all evil spirits. It was a weird experience, and I think I just let my imagination get the better of me. Spiritual warfare is wild, and I'm not sure what happened. I often feel terrified as I walk upstairs in the dark. I see faces in things and sometimes think I catch a glimpse of small things darting like mice. I also am sleep deprived often and once had Nicholas Cage stare at me out of my homework so I don't think it's anything to worry about, and I know God has everything under control.
Regardless, although I considered it, I did not get out of the car this time either when I got to Four Corners. I was having too much fun driving around the intersection, which is uncontrolled and simply a paved area the size of a small parking lot. There was slushy snow on the ground, but it was firm enough to goof off in or even get stuck should I slide off of the road. My front wheels did not have much traction, and I wasn't nearly equipped enough to drive where it got deeper or had an iffy surface underneath. I did take a small gander down one of the gravel roads, but it was very slippery and disconcerting for someone flying solo. I ended up reversing back to the intersection rather than attempting to turn around. The last thing I wanted to do was call mom to come save me from my stupidity at 3 A.M.
Eventually the novelty wore off, due to my not being prepared or having any companions. I cautiously headed back down the road. BOOM! DEER! And a baby one at that. A fawn pranced down the road in front of me. I don't know much about deer, but it seemed like it was less than a year old. Instead of running off to the side, it trotted in the middle like it paid taxes. I beeped my horn, not unkindly, but in a "Hey there Bambi, I don't wanna hurt ya." kind of way. I also had the time to pull out my phone and take a quick recording:
It hopped off the road, and I continued on my merry way. It was a beautiful deer. I suppose I wasn't alone on the mountain in more ways than one. I need to prioritize reading my Bible more, it's so easy to neglect, and I haven't made the time for it that I should. I spend more time reading my bible with the LDS missionaries than I do by myself, and that's an issue. Speaking of which, I also burnt my Book of Mormon the other day in an experiment to see if it would remove what may have been spiritual oppression from a friend. It didn't really, the problem isn't the book. I'll ask the missionaries for another one.
I'm well aware that this is more of a rambling than a well-orated blog post, but I really don't have the energy or desire to edit everything. This post (and it won't be the last of it's kind) isn't intended to be fine writing. Sure, I throw a few fancy schmancy words in here and there, but it's more a tool for sorting out my thoughts or sharing my feelings than anything. You're a quiet, observant medical student as Dr. Me performs a complicated surgery on Trevor Sullivan. Thanks for listening.
We'll see where my wanderlust takes me next. Hopefully I'll soon get something 4wd and with working heat. I really miss the sunsets with Soph. If you want to join me on a spontaneous adventure, let me know. We have 4 extra seats in my car if I move my tools, a suboptimal audio system, an iffy fuel range, and many memories to be made. Hop in, because doing this life thing alone kinda sucks.
This whole time I wrote my mind was screaming at me "Remember those standardized tests where you're supposed to pick the sentence that doesn't belong in the paragraph? Apparently not, because even if you do write the rare luxury of a topic sentence you'll be grossly unfaithful with no delay." Yeah, yeah. Fancy writing is for another time. Also notice how the last three paragraphs, alone, could have been a neat end for the post.
Who cares.
This made my morning. ❤️