The Departure

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Flag of United States  , Texas
Saturday, March 27, 2010

I had known for awhile that I would go and see the magic of the Pacific Northwest. I just wasn't quite sure how, when or why. But I knew I would be going. After the New Year Resolutions, I was a canvas undone. Suspended animation. I needed to come back to life. I needed a flaring of nostrils and a check to my overfilled gut. I had nothing going on. I had nothing I couldn't leave behind for a length of time. I had no means of income so the money saved at hand would inevitably be lost to life. Why not play an active role in how I lose this $400? It's for using. It's for the living. 

When things are going excitedly along and the story seems to become increasingly interesting, I feel an urge to follow along as well. More of a reading than a writing. Living it as it goes. And using as many fragmented ideas, mispelled words, run-on sentences, and general grammatical debauchery as we happen across. Also, since this is the general backbone log, I will be omitting scene depth and character profiles for now. I will need much more than one night to get everything out and really set. This is the main story line according to my journal entries, in chaptered segments. The content will be edited and altered as necessary to maintain personal integrity. So I guess this is all based on a true story. So then, shall we set the scene?
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I had a good friend in Austin who always spoke fondly of her home in Oregon. Not just the physical location of her house, as much as a life lived in that area. The people she knew, the things they did. I could tell it really meant something to her. I had already heard an urging to go and see this place for myself. I was on craigslist, checking the rideshares, my primary method of distance travel, for any good looking starts. Apparently it was time to start. I had my first ride lined up the morning of the 15th of February with 3 other passengers and one cat. 2009 Honda Civic, push TX-NM-CO-UT-ID-OR as fast as rotationally possible with 4 drivers. No hotels. I discussed it with the family and made plans with Dad to take care of things while I was away. We agreed that at the absolute earliest, I would be back in six days with the same car I left town in. At the absolute latest, I would be back home by April First. At the time, I felt like like that was a world's amount of time. At the time. I spoke with my friend and was given an intersection, a house description, and a first name for my phase. Portland. 

I spent an entire day packing. Then unpacking. Then repacking. Then repeating. That went on until I finally decided to lay down on my bed and pretend to be asleep for the next eight hours, as though I would hear Santa's steps in the room adjacent. I know I tend to bring too much stuff. Always too much. But sometimes I just can't help myself. I tell myself "You either bring a little less, or toughen up a little more." I was right near the 55 pound mark, fully loaded. I am 5'7" and 140 pounds. And I could still manage to run in that thing too, if only for a little burst. Dad drove me to the drop point in the morning and I met my crew for the ride to Portland. It was a beautiful day in Austin. We left a beautiful place that day. And we were smiling.

 
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