New Life in the Woods

Ok, ok… the title is a bit dramatic, I admit. In fact most of the drive was quite nice. There were only a few isolated moments of pure terror.

Here’s one last picture of packing up at the old apartment. I am shown here wrapping up pieces of shelving while Michael does all the heavy lifting (with a hand truck). Actually, Michael “staged” the move, laying out boxes while I tried to fit things into the truck. Later he took over that job while I hauled stuff for a while.

As mentioned before, we had driven up to my mom’s house, slept over there, loaded up some more stuff and were ready to go. We got underway by around noon, gassed up just before hitting the freeway, and drove North. Michael and I both had cellphones, but he stopped calling me after I almost ran someone off the road when he called the first time (I had about 10 things in the pocket where the cellphone was and couldn’t find the darn thing). The weather was great all the way up to Redding, and then things started getting a bit greyer.

We stopped at a Rest Stop somewhere above Redding in the mountains (near Shasta Lake) and it was still partly Sunny and very nice, if a bit chilly. I’m not sure what the expression on my face in this picture means (can’t remember) but maybe it should be captioned “Oh, common Michael! Not another picture!” After calling Mari to report on our progress, we agreed to press on and refuel at Weed, California, which is about half-way between Redding and the Oregon border.

Weed was cold, with stiff winds that made it seem below freezing. By this time the skies were definitely grey and mostly dark. It seemed like we were driving through clouds as we passed through the mountains in this area. But so far it had been easy sailing. The worst was yet to come.

After Weed, there is a long valley that is relatively easy driving, but as you near Yreka, you start to climb into the mountains again. From Yreka to Ashland in Oregon, it is all up and down and there are some pretty steep grades. Michael very patiently followed me as I struggled to get up the steep grades and slowed way down, mostly following big trucks on the downslopes.

Somewhere along the way, the mist turned to drizzle, the drizzle became rain, and then the fog set in. It was horrible. By this time it was completely dark and the fog made visibility terrible. It seemed at times like I couldn’t see more than 20 feet in front of me, although it was probably more like 100 feet. I slowed way down and tried to follow brake lights from the trucks in front of me to tell where the turns were. We were headed downslope on one of the worst stretches of I-5, with 6 degree slopes and lots of turns and I couldn’t see any of it. Turning on the brights just made it worse. I know I keep mentioning scary aspects of this move from time to time, and every so often a little voice in the background says something like: “It’s not very manly to admit to being scared so much,” but the truth is: I was seriously scared, almost terrified. The fog was that bad. and it seemed to go on forever. In retrospect, I bet it was just a mile or two but at the time my eyes were smarting from trying to see through that fog and my arms hurt from gripping the wheel too hard for too long. Since you are reading this, you already know we made it through.

Once out of that bad stretch, the road leveled out some and there were fewer turns. We also descended below the fog. It was at that point that I got the worst scare. I was calming down from that hell-ride and starting to speed up on a relatively straight stretch that crossed a short bridge over a ravine when a big wind gust hit the truck and I could feel it start to hydro-plane as I crossed the bridge. Somehow, either through sheer dumb luck, or past experience, I managed to correct the slide with minimal nudges to the steering wheel and then slowed down a bit. But my heart was hammering fit to burst. The next stretch is a blur, but before long signs for Ashland were appearing, and not long after that Medford. We were almost there!

The weather settled somewhere between a drizzle and light rain all the way to Grants Pass and past it to the cabin. We got to the dirt road of Dutchy Way with only one false turn, and then the next bit of fun began.

Dutchy Way is dirt and gravel and slopes gradually uphill the whole way, but there is one pretty steep stretch, and for a bit I almost thought the truck wouldn’t make it, but it did. Then we got to the driveway, and I realized what I had been supressing: driving down that dirt driveway to the cabin in the rain was not going to be fun. If anything, although I had good visibility, it was even scarier than the drive through the fog in the mountains. I went dead slow, but even so the driveway was not perfectly level, and somewhat deep ruts in the dirt made the fully-loaded truck sway ominously from side to side, although overall, it leaned alarmingly to the left. I found myself leaning far over to the right while I steered, as if that would do any good against all the weight in that truck, but I couldn’t help it!

We made it of course. I got down to the cabin and parked just past it to allow room for the ramp to extend behind the truck. It was about 7:30 p.m., raining, and completely dark.

I got out, shaking, nervous energy giving me the urge to do five different things at once. I went and unlocked the cabin and tried to sit down for a while, but I was shaking so bad I couldn’t focus on anything or really sit still for long. It took me about 15 minutes to calm down. That’s how bad the truck was leaning on the way down that driveway, or so it seemed to me. I was sure the truck was gonna tip over a few times.

While Michael tried to get a fire lit, I went outside and flipped the switches on the main fuse box. Then I turned on the light I had left behind to make sure it was still working, and ran it out to the front porch to clip it up where it would provide light for us to unload. Inside, I found another lamp and plugged that in at a kitchen outlet so we had light inside too. We spent another 20 minutes getting the fire going. I made some tea and then we sat down to rest and talk for perhaps another hour. I took Michael on a tour of the cabin and he loved it!

We were there. We had made it safe and sound (so far) and all that was left was unpacking. More to come!