Day 13: Confusion Hill
San Fransisco and I parted ways today. It was nice to see it again, but sometimes even an old friend such as San Fran can start to get on one's nerves after an extended period of time. Besides, even the greatest city in the world is not half as exciting as a *new* city, and there are hundreds of them on the road ahead which I have yet to meet.
And yet before travelling to the uncharted lands to the north, there was one town I had to go to first. Sacramento, the rather dinky capitol city of California, and another old friend of mine. Although we did have something of a rocky history. The last time I was in Sacramento it was unkind to me, and left me lonely for a few months before I decided to stop being such a baby and no longer blame the city itself for my woes.
One of my must-see places in Sacramento: I first discovered it at least five or six years past when staying at a college journalist's convention. It was hardly the most intellectual of gatherings (the "college" part overpowered the "journalist," I suppose, and it just ended up as more of the same drunk-and-fuck you'd find among any other youth group away from home. Bored with these "intellectual" drinking games I opted instead for a long walk, which took me a few miles from our hotel to some strange, hollow, seemingly abandoned (and, I might add, fenced off) park, with a central area that appeared to consist of four statuesque concrete lightning rods built around a collage of pools and walkways. It was a maze of barren parking lots and dried up water parks, which was nothing if not the *ultimate* place to be alone and think. I later found that it was the site of the Cal Expo, a wannabe-state-localized-version-of-the world's fair, which was currently used for swap meets more than anything else.
The second time I went (on yet another journalism trip - the cheapest way to get there), I expected the visit to once again magically clear my life of all problems, and grant me even more clarity than it had given the younger me. But - surprise - it instead marked the beginning of what was no doubt the most confusing and complicated three-month period of my life. What had gone wrong? Had the good magic somehow been sapped out of this place? Had it been my own doing? Distracted by trivial things, had I put my life in the wrong direction, and squandered the power of this tiny holy land? At the end of this period I came to two realizations (well, many more, but two related to this topic). One - I would *have* to take this cross-country trip I had so long dreamed about, or I would never forgive myself. Two - Sacramento is where the real journey would begin. There would be no familiar cities after that point, it would be all new land. I found it so poetic that it would start with this spot that had been at the centre of both the most focused and chaotic points in my life...
So I went there again and started feeling (rightfully) stupid about pretentiously putting so much importance on one place. What a naive fool I had been. Still it was a pretty magical experience, if only because of the awesome structures. See the invisible photos above, which you can imagine in place of the empty-headed rant that actually exists there if you wish.
There were also photos of the capitol buildings and endless miles of scenery. They are all mysteriously gone, just like those in the days before. The first photo I have was taken after midnight, of a lovely place that I'd like to make my home some day:
Not long afterwards I was falling asleep at the wheel. This would be the first of many nights sleeping in a car, I'd have to make it count... There was a campground where I assumed I could crash (and pay in the morning) but after driving three miles off the highway to get there I saw that it was "closed for season." Well, at least I was isolated. I found a queit spot and promptly passed out.
And yet before travelling to the uncharted lands to the north, there was one town I had to go to first. Sacramento, the rather dinky capitol city of California, and another old friend of mine. Although we did have something of a rocky history. The last time I was in Sacramento it was unkind to me, and left me lonely for a few months before I decided to stop being such a baby and no longer blame the city itself for my woes.
One of my must-see places in Sacramento: I first discovered it at least five or six years past when staying at a college journalist's convention. It was hardly the most intellectual of gatherings (the "college" part overpowered the "journalist," I suppose, and it just ended up as more of the same drunk-and-fuck you'd find among any other youth group away from home. Bored with these "intellectual" drinking games I opted instead for a long walk, which took me a few miles from our hotel to some strange, hollow, seemingly abandoned (and, I might add, fenced off) park, with a central area that appeared to consist of four statuesque concrete lightning rods built around a collage of pools and walkways. It was a maze of barren parking lots and dried up water parks, which was nothing if not the *ultimate* place to be alone and think. I later found that it was the site of the Cal Expo, a wannabe-state-localized-version-of-the world's fair, which was currently used for swap meets more than anything else.
The second time I went (on yet another journalism trip - the cheapest way to get there), I expected the visit to once again magically clear my life of all problems, and grant me even more clarity than it had given the younger me. But - surprise - it instead marked the beginning of what was no doubt the most confusing and complicated three-month period of my life. What had gone wrong? Had the good magic somehow been sapped out of this place? Had it been my own doing? Distracted by trivial things, had I put my life in the wrong direction, and squandered the power of this tiny holy land? At the end of this period I came to two realizations (well, many more, but two related to this topic). One - I would *have* to take this cross-country trip I had so long dreamed about, or I would never forgive myself. Two - Sacramento is where the real journey would begin. There would be no familiar cities after that point, it would be all new land. I found it so poetic that it would start with this spot that had been at the centre of both the most focused and chaotic points in my life...
So I went there again and started feeling (rightfully) stupid about pretentiously putting so much importance on one place. What a naive fool I had been. Still it was a pretty magical experience, if only because of the awesome structures. See the invisible photos above, which you can imagine in place of the empty-headed rant that actually exists there if you wish.
There were also photos of the capitol buildings and endless miles of scenery. They are all mysteriously gone, just like those in the days before. The first photo I have was taken after midnight, of a lovely place that I'd like to make my home some day:
Not long afterwards I was falling asleep at the wheel. This would be the first of many nights sleeping in a car, I'd have to make it count... There was a campground where I assumed I could crash (and pay in the morning) but after driving three miles off the highway to get there I saw that it was "closed for season." Well, at least I was isolated. I found a queit spot and promptly passed out.
posted by BG | 2:53 PM
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