Paul's brain holds a lot of information. Some useless (like how to obtain but never use gift cards), some very, very important. One important bit of information is where to find good camp sites on Mt. Hood. I was grateful he shared with me.
I found this spot empty every time I visited (usually mid-week, which helped) and enjoyed the hummingbirds while watching the sun set behind Mt. Hood. A 5-minute drive from the site to the main road led me to fantastic mountain biking trailheads.
This kind of proximity left me with no shortages of hikes up the mountain.
Oh, imagine how cool that photo would be if the cloud weren't there. That's ok though. Beautiful days have a tendency to turn into beautiful evenings.
However, these nice days of hiking around the Pacific Northwest were about to come to a close.
On July 31st, I woke up and unzipped my fly. I started the coffee and sat down on my comfy camp chair to stare at Mt. Hood. Mindlessly, I pulled out my phone to check for any important emails. A new message from my boss in Kuwait. He informed me that due to COVID, my contract was being nullified.
Shocked, I paced back and forth for a moment to process this information, then packed up and took off. School started in 3 weeks and I was now unemployed. Not great if one is a teacher. I headed to Paul's and the next day I celebrate my birthday by writing cover letters while sipping scotch.
COVID has a way of giving and taking away. As many introverts with COVID-proof jobs can attest, working from home in remote and beautiful location could be very pleasant. It was good for me last spring, and although I sympathized with those who struggled or, god forbid, got sick, it didn't directly affect me in a particularly negative way. Now, it seemed, there was an impact.
With no job but lines in the water, I took off to visit Moriah and Mom in Yellowstone. It was good to see them and fun to visit. Mom made good food and we enjoyed some tasty drinks. Moriah and I hiked up Bunsen Peak , and when Tim arrived we all took a stroll up to Grizzly Lake.
Bunson Peak (an easy 8,564 ft.) with Moriah.
Grizzly lake with Mom, Tim, and Moriah.
We wrapped it up with a driving tour of the northern end of the park. As usual, Bison were scattered all over. Awesome.
While at Moriah's, I had a 2nd interview with the American International School of Jeddah. It went well and they asked when I could start. "Tomorrow" I replied.
Within 12 hours I had an offer and expectation to begin the next day. I took the job.
The catch, however, was that I'd have to begin working during local Saudi time, but from my present location (the States). The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia had not yet opened their airports. A brief moment of cognitive processing led me to the realization that I will begin working my first-ever graveyard shift. 10pm-5am. Indefinitely.
This created a logistical nightmare. Not to mention I still had to drive down to Denver to visit Ben and get all my stuff out of storage. I worked for those first two days, then decided the best option would be to stay with the (ever so gracious) Steve and Brenda Lichtenberger in La Pine, Oregon. They said they would let me stay in one of their guest bedrooms. That left me with three days to get from Yellowstone to Denver (625 miles), then Denver to La Pine, Oregon (1,190 miles).
Anticipation only led to dread, but there were no other options. Friday morning I left Mom's place at dawn and drove all day. I arrived in Golden later at about 7pm and enjoyed one of the most comfortable and relaxing evenings of the summer while hanging out with Ben. Plenty of pizza and beer to be had.
The next morning it was goodbye and off to the storage unit in Denver. Once loaded up, I began the long haul (not without stops in Johnstown to visit Cory Loghry then Fort Collins to see Laurel).
My goal was to get past Ogden and, ideally, southern Idaho. This stretch of the drive was probably the most brutal. By mile 500, the previous day's 630 miles were catching up to me. I was verging on the delirious and couldn't find a place to sleep to save my life. Ogden is the worst. There no place to camp along the whole stretch of the way. I drove around that awful little town for an hour and half looking for a place to pitch my tent, to no avail. After it got dark, I gave up and went to a Motel 6. The guy said there were no rooms. Exhausted, I asked if there was anywhere to camp. He kindly directed me to an obscurely-marked river access area about a mile and a half up the road. "It isn't great," he said. "But it's free." I sincerely thanked him and confirmed his instructions on how to get there. "Yeah, you'll know you're there if you see a cow carcass on the other side of the fence." Hell yeah, I thought. Way to suck, Ogden.
To my delight, I found it. My frustration at Ogden for winning the award for Crappiest Town in America melted away at the relief of not driving anymore. I pitched my tent a bit upwind and around the corner of the carcass and immediately cracked open a cold one.
The following morning I said a cheerful goodbye to Ogden and drove out. The third and final leg of the journey awaited. 650 miles away lies La Pine and the end of my driving. I pressed on, only stopping in Boise for a quick break.
On Sunday evening at about 7pm I rolled into la Pine and smelled about 1,900 miles worth of terrible. Exhausted, I was greeted to a wonderfully enthusiastic "Welcome home, roomie!!" from Brenda.
Finally.
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