8-8-2015
Red Bluff, California

I’m sorry to say that my final day in Salt Lake ended up being a bit lackluster.  I woke up to heavy rain and thunderstorms, which made it impossible (and dangerous) to do my final planned hike of summiting Mt. Olympus.  However, the rain gave me the opportunity to unwind from the constant state of motion in which I had found myself for the past several weeks.  I spent the day alternating between my room at Solitude, the grill/bar (which was thankfully open on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays), and when the rain died off a bit, walking the grounds.  It was a quiet day, and a day full of reflection.  I’m happy with it, though I know it doesn’t make for the most exciting blog writing.  As evening approached, the storm picked up to an absolute downpour and thunderstorm, and I spent the night huddled in my room, packing my things to leave first thing in the morning.

I checked out of my room at 5:30 in the morning.  After a long, foggy drive down the canyon, I was treated to a full view of Salt Lake City at dawn – all sparkling diamond, looking like a babe cradled by the surrounding valley.  There’s a reason my dad was able to endure so many way-too-early mornings just like this one back during his residency.  Salt Lake at dawn has a magic to it.

As I drove past the Great Salt Lake and started inching my way towards the salt flats, the sun rose fire in the sky.  I pulled over at the nearest exit, and snapped the photo that became this entry’s cover photo.  From there, I just drove.  On entering California, a series of unfortunate events occurred that snapped me back to reality.  First, a semi-trailer tipped on an s-turn up Lassen pass, spilling its hay contents all over the road.  It took crews near 30 minutes before they could clear enough of a path for traffic to resume flow.  Then, not even 10 miles later, a fire started near Payne’s Creek, necessitating a fleet of fire trucks and crew to head up the highway.  The remainder of my trip down into Red Bluff involved driving for a quarter mile, seeing fire crew sirens, pulling over to allow the emergency vehicle to pass, repeat.

Finally, I made it home, only to be greeted by a very angry, unleashed chihuahua whose owners could not be found.  Each time I made a move, the thing snarled at me and made a dash for my ankles.  The only way out of the situation ended up being to stare the thing down and wait for it to tire out.  It did tire out and let me be, eventually, but it took a good 15 minutes to get to that point.  Some welcome party.

Oh yeah, and there is smoke everywhere in the valley from all of the fires.  I already miss the crystal clean air of Canada.

Eventually, things got better.  I went to my parents’ house, shared my stories, and had dinner with my family.    They seemed excited and proud that I went on this journey and tackled its challenges by myself.  And I was excited and happy to just be spending time with them again.  Believe it or not, after all of the beauty I saw and adventure I handled, it may have been this moment returning home and being among loved ones that made me most happy.  I’m sure there’s some deeper kernel of wisdom to that sentiment that could be parsed out into my own brand of existential prose, but at this point who cares?  I’m home again, and that’s all that matters.

Now, who has a good map of the southern hemisphere?

Cheers,

Rob