Chasing sunsets
There's a crepuscular game I play while driving west in the early evening. I can't help myself, it's become more than habit - it's an obsession - since I landed in the west in the late 1970's from mostly-flat Ohio. The basin-range geography 'round these parts allows me to chase sunsets.
The idea is you can see several sunsets over the hills as you pass from valley to valley if you time it right, and drive fast enough (or mentally urging on the parent driving, back when I was too young to drive, but too embarrassed to suggest such an idea to my mom or dad).
I did this over the last weekend while driving through the Mojave Desert while driving to coastal California, and succeeded!
I also got to the World's Largest Thermometer quicker than usual.
Yah, fine, I drove a tad over the speed limit (really - I didn't have to drive all that much faster), I'm a danger to myself and others. But it kept me thinking and alert on one of the most boring stretches of I-15 this side of Beaver,Utah.
Oh, I had all sorts of deep thoughts about the metaphor of chasing sunsets and what I was going to write about that here. That kept me awake through Barstow, and then I promptly forgot that wit and insight in the smog that hit me halfway through Cajon Pass. Just believe that it was deep. And insightful. And really really witty. It would have made nuns weep and the comatose laugh. Really. Blame ozone and carbon monoxide on why you're bored stiff with this commentary right now. I'd be reaching for the delete key right now, except that I've already committed some bandwidth in my Flicker account to this.
Anyways, it was a good trip, the girls danced on the beach, friends were visited, family hugged, and sunsets caught.
3 Comments:
that is so unbelievably f'ing cool!
my wife and i so badly want to visit the desert u.s.
we'll get to in a few years, i imagine, when we get some money in the bank.
i can't even see sunsets in my neighborhood in the region i live at the base of the appalachians. too many trees and hills.
i'm an open spaces guy.
the desert would appeal to me, but how far from the ocean are you? i love the coast, and i'm only 3 1/2 hours away.
e+
I've heard that from folks I've known who move from here to the East Coast - they feel claustrophobic from all the trees surrounding them. I do remember my days in Ohio (I moved to San Diego when I was twelve), wondering just how far I could see if there weren't so many darned trees in the way.
LOL, now I yearn for some trees and water. I miss the smell of mouldering leaves in the fall, or the smell of warm pine on a summer's evening. The smell of ozone from an approaching thunderstorm, the sound of snow falling, the feel of cool spring water running over my toes as I search for crawdads.
But, yeah, I would miss the vistas and awesome dawn and dusk skies. And, of course, desert tortoises (not that I've seen one for several years, now).
But, the best sunsets I've seen are on the north coast of California 'round my first college Humboldt State, just south of the Oregon border.
Now, sunrises in the desert are a serious thing of beauty.
The closest Pacific shores are about five hours away in fast traffic. I lived near the coast for my teenage and young adult life, but never really appreciated it all that much. I never had access to wheels to get me there enough to develop a real addiction to it. After college, I spent about a year on ocean fishing boats. Any enjoyment I could have gotten from ocean air and sea spray was dilluted by engine rumble and diesel fumes. Now, though, seeing how much N loves the beach, I wish I were closer.
The deserts are definately worth visiting. I'd highly suggest the Sonoran in Arizona. I live in the Mohave, the least pretty of the US deserts, but it still has its appeal.
Just not enough water.
CynicalMom - I've wondered about that - if you can see the fireworks from 40,000 feet. That must have been some sight, a caliope of mushrooms. I never fail to see small aircraft flying about near fireworks, and question not only if they see much, but also their sanity.
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