Rock, Paper, Scissors

Ever since I was introduced to this song on my most recent road trip, I've been unable to stop listening to it. 

For the first time since I was five, I'm not returning to school in the fall. Oh, I certainly plan to next year, but the fact remains it is entirely my choice, and that is stunning and exciting. And I am fully aware that this song is relevant, because it's right now I choose what I want to do. It's terrifying, because I'm scared I'm going to fail horribly, but I know I have to choose, and there's a certain confidence in that.

The other thing that just happened is I finished another novel. I am thrilled with this one, but it's another instance of change. Even though I'm going on directly to write the next installment in the series before the characters pack up their bags and move out of my head, it's not going to be the same. Again, exciting, new, and absolutely terrifying. 

So I've been taking lots camping trips this summer. My middle school's outdoor program instilled in me a desire to flee to the wilderness when there are decisions to make or difficulties to heal from, and heading on my long first trips without my parents or school with me has seemed a deeply appropriate way to mark the transition from college to the great big world. It's scary, but being that independent (constrained only by my car's tiny gas tank) is one of the best feelings I've ever had. There's a thrill to knowing that everything you need is with you, that you can go anywhere you want. 

After a long hard year in which a lot of things went very wrong--as wrong as they possibly could have gone, in some cases--that is an enormous comfort.

Hiatuses and Road Trips

I should say right off the bat that the timestamp on my last post took me by surprise. I thought I'd neglected this blog for a year, not a year and three months!

It is a truth universally acknowledged that college students must necessarily start planning a graduation road trip sometime early in freshman year. Toward the end of last month, one of my elementary school friends and I managed to actually depart on a road trip. 

We started in Santa Barbara, and after a fairly uneventful drive, spent the first night at Pinnacles State Park, just outside King City. We had exciting weather the whole trip, though that first night it just gloomed at us. 

The local fauna were also impressive. I was in the middle of making dinner when my friend let loose a noise I had not thought her capable of producing, and pointed behind me. I turned to find a fox walking through our camp, completely unconcerned. We also had raccoons, deer, turkeys, and an enormous moth. 

 The enormous moth

The enormous moth with hand for scale

The next morning we packed up and headed for Lakes Basin campground, in Plumas County--an eight hour drive north. Along the way, we celebrated that finest of road trip traditions; lunch in a parking lot. 

We fed the car around then, too. Don't let its hopeful expression fool you.

After a day full of scattered thunderstorms and watching semi trucks passing each other--something that I will never not find amusing--we arrived in Lakes Basin, where we got the tent up to the sounds of distant thunder and happy dogs. We only intended to stay one night... but wound up taking two, enchanted by the campground and the abundant hiking in the area.

Hiking...

 The campsite, looking particularly winsome

The morning we realized there were no forks in the cook kit, only chopsticks. Didn't prevent us from enjoying pancakes and bacon...

Driven out by previous reservations (our high esteem of Lakes Basin is, apparently, widely shared), we headed south along the Eastern Sierras, to Bishop and Inyo National Forest, to see if we could rediscover a campground that I had fond memories of from my childhood. Unfortunately, things change, and the campground was entirely different from my memories. To top things off, we got major weather--dinner was partially rainwater, and never have I tried to cook a chili faster. We were wet and cold, so of course, we broke out the booze.

I don't think I've ever appreciated hard cider to such an extent in my life.

The drive was spectacular, however.

The next day, we drove home through Sequoia National Forest, and arrived in time for dinner, smelling to high heaven. A later reading of the car's odometer showed us that we'd put over 1200 miles on it. Looking at a map, that seems about right.

Now, staring at a the pile of study materials for the GRE, being cold and smelly sounds strangely attractive...