(The realities of a solo working road trip).
Portland was the first stop on a journey that felt like it had started a day late, and, as I wrote about in the last blog post, it was too familiar to feel like an adventure. Last Wednesday, I did a quick interview with Portland activist Gregory McKelvey mid-morning before loading the car again and hitting the road. I have to say, I couldn’t wait to get moving again. The ocean was calling me.
When I first envisioned my drive down Highway 101, I imagined myself taking frequent breaks to stroll barefoot along the water, spread out my yoga mat in the sand, and run along mossy forest trails. I’d snack on fresh fruit and vegetables and find a sheltered nook with an amazing view to pitch my tent for a few nights. It was a lovely image, really.
But having started my trip a day late and spent extra time in Portland, I was already running behind. On top of that, I had actual work to get through: photography edits, copywriting, and of course, all the editing, recording, and outreach that goes with doing the podcast. This wasn’t a zen vacation, it turns out.
When I arrived in Newport, OR, on Wednesday, the sun was going down. It was about 5 pm. And it became clear that instead of camping out, I needed a place to hunker down and get some work done -- and maybe, just maybe, I needed to re-think my travel plans.
What was the time crunch? My next stop was San Francisco, where I planned on doing more interviews and also some job hunting. I’m ready to make a move, and I liked the idea of San Fran, but I was determined not to fall into a job I hated. Hence, the need for research.
It was Wednesday. I was currently 10-11 hours away from that destination, and had planned on taking multiple days to go down the coast, but I’d forgotten about a little thing called Thanksgiving. Wanting to maximize my time in SF before the holiday hit and people stopped paying attention to business, I realized it would make the most sense to get there Thursday evening and spend 5 total days in the city. That meant driving 10-11 hours the next day.
From my hotel room, I ate an almond-butter-and-banana-sandwich, caught up on the emails, started cutting the Gregory McKelvey interview, and tried not to stress about all that I needed to accomplish in this tiny hotel room in one night. However you sliced it, it was something akin to fitting a square peg into a round hole.
Why do I do this to myself? I actually think I’m addicted to the drama. But that 11-hour drive was other-worldly, San Francisco is endless in its depth, and I got the episode out on time. Sometimes, you come really close to having it all.
Can’t wait to show you photos from the next leg of my journey, San Francisco. Happy Thanksgiving!