After an impressively dramatic drive through valleys, over mountains, and through the desert, my boy and I finally turned away from the Columbia and up into Andy Boat’s neck of the woods.
As we were driving it seemed like we were going to the end of the earth. I couldn’t imagine why Boat lived so far out in the world, but once we arrived all doubt left my mind. I only wished I didn’t have to leave so soon.
After all that time in the car, it somehow didn’t seem that strange to see my boat sitting on top of a hill overlooking an amazing valley and Andy’s impressively well-crafted, thoughtful house and shop. Everything about the place oozed charm and craftsmanship, right down to the concrete stepping stones he made himself. I felt tickled to have a friend who was so creative and proud to say he built my boat.
After a whirlwind dinner, a short night, and some good talk, we made a few tweaks to the trailer and started the whole traveling process again, but in reverse.
I’ve long felt that cars annihilate space- they move you at speeds so incomprehensible to the mind that you stop absorbing what you’re seeing. Everything becomes a landscape or worse: a blip. I suppose this trip was no different.
We destroyed the miles (and our backs by sitting for so darn long) arriving home safely, well after dark. Now on to the finish work!