The Epic Road Trip, Part I: West Coast to Denver

As it turns out, my summer is full of a lot of travelling.

I know, I know, you all are thinking about how hard this is going to be on me, and how much I hate travelling and how much this surprises you, but don't worry, I think I'll manage.  Somehow.   ;) 

First on the list:  Cross-country road trip.  This happened by accident, it wasn't supposed to be a part of my summer, but it ended up being a great (albeit accidentally put together) opportunity, so being me, I grabbed the bull by the horns and took it!  :)  

(if you want pictures, you will have to go to Facebook, adding pictures made this post way too long) 

I flew from DC to San Jose, where I met up with my bestie Angela, and we hung out in San Francisco for a day.  It was a whirlwind tour of the city, but we drove past Candlestick Park and AT&;T Park, and along the Embarcadero. We walked through Chinatown and the Financial District, saw Grace Cathedral, Nob Hill, and the Ferry Building (where I had the best coffee of my life - yes, even better than Dominican coffee) before driving up to Coit Tower to see Lombard Street, and then through North Beach and to the Wharf. We hung out along the Wharf, walked out to Pier 39, saw Alcatraz, and ate deliciously fattening clam chowder and a Ghirardelli shake from the original factory before we headed home.  

Yes, we did all that in 6 hours.  :)  It was awesome.  Also, San Francisco = maybe the coolest city ever.  If you haven't been, it should immediately be bumped to the top of your vacation to-do list.  

For those of you who are extremely observant, and noticed an important landmark missing from the above lightning-speed tour of the city, fret not my friends.  Yes, I did manage to see the Golden Gate Bridge (although to my mother's relief I did not get to bike across it, nor did I get to go BASE jumping off it, nor did I get to scale one of it's spindly red pinnacles and hang precariously from the top.  It seems as though at least one of these ought to be on my bucket list, just for kicks...).  We drove out that way the next morning as we left the city.  Yes, it was amazing at it seems in the pictures.  And I got to do it all with one amazing best friend.

For our next breathtaking stop, we drove over Donner Pass, and to Lake Tahoe.  Oh. My. Goodness.  This place is beautiful.  We stopped and just stood, in our shorts and t-shirts, almost in disbelief that there is a place with a real, honest to goodness sand beach, a huge lake (big enough for all watersport, except whale hunting or marlin wrangling, but unless you're the foolish old man from The Old Man and the Sea - which is a worthless story - marlin wrangling probably isn't your thing...), AND real, snow-capped mountains, all with 70 degree weather along the water.  I am not kidding you.  It is as gorgeous as it sounds.  But don't worry, my Colorado loyalty is still in tact.  

We then spent the night in the middle-of-nowhere Nevada (which is not a particularly beautiful state, for the record...).  The next day was full of just as much excitement, in a different sort of way.  

We hopped in the car around 7am, and got in about 3 hours of driving before the unforeseen hit... Gertrude's transmission went out on us, right at the Utah-Nevada border.  Here's how that went:

We were able to get poor Gertude going enough to get the two miles from where she wanted to die to the nearest mechanic, where she officially died in the parking lot.  It took another 4-ish hours to diagnose the problem, figure out what we were going to do about it, and how to get everything back to Denver.  We ended up waiting another 2 1/2 hours in the casino (the ONLY place to hang out, which was back over the Nevada border - yes, I think this town exists strictly for gambling...), while we waited for a friend of Angela's dad to come get us.  After we loaded up his truck, said our sad goodbyes to poor old Gertie, we drove 2 hours to Salt Lake City.  

Let's just take a moment and count the blessings here, shall we?:  Broke down in the morning, in the daylight, along a well-traveled and easy highway.  Only 2 miles from one of the only mechanics between Reno and Salt Lake.  Managed to get the car to said mechanic without a tow truck.  Had the kindest, most generous, very knowlegeable mechanic anyone could ever have asked for.  Had a friend in Salt Lake.  Said friend in Salt Lake fed us, drove with us, let us nap in their guest room, and were some of the friendliest, most generous people I've ever met.  Was with my best friend.  My best friend has a family that I completely, 100% trust.  Can we just say that God is so good?!    

Aside: Salt Lake City is so much prettier than I thought it would be.  Also, fun fact: Salt Lake is super shallow (mostly less than 15 feet).  

We waited another two hours at this friends house (they were so kind and gracious, and they even fed us an amazingly delicious dinner) before Angela's dad arrived, where we loaded up the car, turned around, and drove straight back to Denver.  Driving through the night did not make my mother happy - even after I reminded her that I refrained from attempting some crazy stunt off the Golden Gate Bridge.  But, we were still home in time for Mother's day.  

This was the boring part of the trip - it was dark outside, so I took a grand total of 3 pictures, and slept for most of the trip (when I wasn't driving).  Besides, it was mostly Wyoming, which has gorgeous parts, but also has ugly parts, so it was ok.  

I was welcomed back to a foggy, overcast (but nonetheless beautiful) Denver around 6am.  Home at last.  :)  

Here's to hoping part 2 won't be quite as dramatic!  :)  

So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen Adieu...

I have recently resigned from all of my various titles/positions at the rec center. Not because I don't enjoy or value them, but because I am officially moving.  Permanently.  Not just for 9 months of the year as a college student, but as a person.  Permanently and definitively moving. 

***Does this make me a real, live, walking, talking, functioning adult?? Because I'm so not ready for that.  If I can move without being an adult, then bring it on.  But if this makes me an adult, then I am in so much trouble...  I don't know why, but I don't want to be an adult.  Ever.  Maybe it was the early influence of reading The Little Prince, or maybe it was one too many bed-jumping sessions, or too much splashing in puddles, or too much ice cream before dinner, or one too many bent rules, or something, but I just can't wrap my head around the idea of me being an adult.  Eeeeek!!***

The reason I am resigning and not just going on extended leave, or inactive employee status, is because I don't know if I am ever going to live in Colorado again.  I don't know when I would be in Colorado long enough to need a job. 

The thought of this makes me very, very sad.  I am a Colorado girl.  Through and through.  Not that I can't adapt to other places, but if we're just being honest, I belong in that state.  It's just an awesome place, period.  And I'm built for it.  Hiking, camping, biking, climbing, stargazing, x-country skiing, swimming, thru-hiking, snowboarding, downhill skiing, snowshoing, 300 days of sunshine, working hard to play even harder, wearing flannel and chacos, always carrying a nalgene, shorts, a blanket, and a snow shovel in my car - all for the same day- thinking that a brand new Subaru is the best car any girl could ever want.... Let's just call it what it is, shall we?  I first and foremost define myself as a daughter of Christ, and secondly as a Colorado girl.  I belong there.  Or at least I feel like it. 

And suddenly, having to put on paper for someone else to see, that I won't be going back... that makes me sad.  I'm really not sure what to do with this feeling.  The world is such a big place, and I don't know where the Lord would have me go.  I just know it's not Colorado. 

This is something I've been resisting for a long time, hoping that I could hold on just a bit longer to the things I hold so dear.  The time I spent there.  But I feel the calendar rolling forward more and more, I feel time betraying me and breaking my heart, and as desperately as I want to cling to that - to my life and my experiences and the abiding love I always will have for that place - I have been convicted.  It's time to let go.  Until I let go of what I have had in the past, God cannot use me now.  And He cannot prepare me for the future.

Trying to place my feet in the past, the present, and the future not only requires an extra leg that I do not have, it also requires some extraordinary acrobatics that I can no longer manage.  I am tired of fooling myself into this crazy circus-style straddling act, trying to maintain control through my own means.  I know that I truly do not belong there - it is a safety net that I do not need.  For me to keep this job any longer, or this belief that I will someday return is saying that God is not enough.  He has led me here, so here I will stay.  With contentment.  I belong here now.  And later, I will belong (Lord willing) somewhere else.

Tearing yourself from something so familiar, so comfortable, and so adored is a hard and painful thing to do.  The deep nostalgia that I have for that place is so rooted in me that giving this up, officially admitting what I have known for a long time, relinquishes so much of my identity that I feel a tad lost and overwhelmed.  This is not homesickness, this is redefining my entire identity and rooting it more deeply in Christ, right now.  I am, and always will be a Colorado girl, because it defines how I grew up, what I know and hold dear, the things I value, the way I play...  But it cannot, and will not, define my home or my life course.

This is, I suppose, just another (very different) part of dying to yourself.  It is time for me to say adieu, and plant myself boldly with both feet firmly in the present, with Christ as my foundation.  As hard and sad as it is to admit this to myself, it must be done.  And so I say to you, great state of Colorado, a tearful farewell, knowing that the Lord withholds nothing good from me, and trusting in His sovereign grace.