Traveling to trail, Yosemite National Park.
I made it to union station (LA). I took a lyft. First time. Only cost $20. Worth it to me. Worth it to not have to walk to the Sherman way station. And then down into the subway at north Hollywood. The shortened time. The ease of mind. Comparatively worth the $15 added expense. Picked me up from the house. Dropped me off in front of the station. It’s a warm evening. Lost my water bottle in the back of the lyft, the trunk. The driver reminded me of a friends boyfriend but with Bieber hair and Persian, a kind face and demeanor, gentle but not wimpy, soft but not sissy.
Be friendly. These neck pillows are all over the place. Sad. I wish I had mine. The one in front of me is pink. I’m on the bus to Bakersfield. We are still waiting at the station for a few more minutes until departure. 2 hours ride. I got here a little after 10pm. I did want to give myself plenty of space (and by space I mean time) to wrap my mind around this part of the journey. I do try to avoid all frantic and stressful travel. Plenty of time to explore and breath between segments. I’ll be a zombie I’m sure by the time I arrive. I am already feeling the fatigue of travel and lack of sleep in my eyes. Hopefully once we get on the road the lights will go out and the conversations will cease. Especially this one across the aisle. It’s the only one i can here. Loud.
The driver of the bus. What a cross section of our people he sees. And his humor is fierce. As he backs away leaving us all to sit out here unchaperoned but for the idling train in track, I want to wave him away. Farewell funny friend. With a stack of jokes and contrived stories and rules for his bus a mile high.
And here we all sit, stand, or wander; lounging on the ground where the cucas scurry or cramped on the metal benches. I want to snuggle down with my bag but fear the disapproval or disappointment of my new family of travelers. I’ve been passing some deep rumbling gas while sitting here. That is always a pleasant experience. Not being required to hold it in.
These, my travel tales.
Boogers that I can’t pick and farts that I can’t expunge. That’s some gross word choice. That is the sad state of my body everyday. Overly dry sinuses. And a perpetually rumbling abdomen.
Failed to mention yet just how refrigerator cold that bus was. Insane levels of meat-locker preservation. I found myself snuggling my arms in tight and doing that clammy cold sweat thing. And getting comfortable in those seats without touching your neighbor too intimately is the challenge of your life when all you want to do is take a little nap. I do recall the trains being easier to hunker down in. I am hopeful. One added discomfort is the sunburn I managed to acquire while camping with the Church this past weekend. I thought I was under shade of a beach umbrella during the perilous hours.
Unsolved mystery – the thing that was in my eye all day today disappeared somehow during my nap on that bus trip. I just happened to notice this.
3:51am. Train is scheduled to depart at 4:10am but we haven’t yet been allowed on board. Let’s hope. I want to reward myself with an Oreo for being a well behaved traveler… I did so while waiting for the bus at union station.
6:29am what even is sleep. Definitely not 30 minute naps tagged together. The sunrise outside the window of the train is quite lovely. And of course the acres of vineyards and fruit trees and fields of cows. Between Fresno and Merced. Will be disembarking soon. 2 hr layover in Merced. Perhaps I’ll be able to take another nap there. Bust out the air pad and everything.
7:14. Merced. Train just rolled away. Make coffee or take a nap. Have breakfast. Nap. It’s so still here right now. Nap. There is such a delicious coolness to the air.
So I napped. Just made coffee now. Sipping it while a train repeatedly moves forwards and backwards from one set of tracks to another adding and or subtracting cars each time it’s hard to tell exactly. This pedestrian lady trying to cross the street over the tracks into the neighborhood on the other side just started yelling at one of the workers presumably assisting on the ground. Colorful and angry. I’m Getting a second wind. Coffee for the assist! And yet here I lounge still. The hikers life. Day 1. Travel day. Town day. Lounge day. Write day. Wait day. Yoga day. Two weeks no yoga. The trade off. Should I attempt to post something. For the sake of my audience of 1. #himom
Writing from Life, for Life. 