still up on the hill.

you sit in the toronto airport, far too early in the morning. no poetry on the tarmac. it comes in the plane. you still hate flying. you would write more about how uncomfortable and unnatural it feels, but you sit currently in a cafe punching away quickly. it is a cafe where you and mike sat during the trip. you had been in nevada for one mere day, and the desert was out there, laying itself bare before you. this travelling by car is nonsense by comparison. it is like comparing airplanes to shoes. they are entirely different. it is like the old saying that "writing about music is like dancing about architecture."

so here we are. moving ever so fast. there was time with friends, oceans of laughter and love really. how they all fit in so well in such a short piece of time is a wonder of the world. there was a new mix for a new song from the new record, which was great. there is fire in these songs. there was a day in davis, one of the few places that truly feels like home. there was a family reunion, full of kids on couches sucking their toes. moments with my mother and father; moments that i miss. a new down jacket which has come in quite handy, as we have been met with quite a snowstorm.

last night as we drove up the mormon immigrant trail, the snow grew deeper and deeper as the elevation increased. the road had not been plowed, and with heavy snow last week, we finally had to break course and turn back. hours out the way, and in the dark, we arrived in lake tahoe. dinner, and the hunt for a camping spot. rainfly on the tents and down jackets in with us. and then morning. we awoke to a world of snow, the stillness of which was stunning. mesmerized. i was completely mesmerized. we pack up {cold, cold, cold, cold, gloveless hands} and head to the car, which was parked up the raod in a safeway parking lot. we get tea. breakfast. we buy chains. apply them. drive the ridge. stop to take them off in carson city, nevada. one is still up on the hill. we stop for apple cider. we will leave and buy more chains. food at the store. and into the desert. we all wonder if it will be snowing there too. the contrast is absolutely surreal.

at this point, my main thoughts about travelling the route again {mostly} is that so much is lost in a car. an immeasurable amount, both physically and emotionally. tunnelvision. don't misunderstand of course. we are having a great time, but the field of vision is simply much more narrow. i guess it comes back to how incomparable the two means of movement are. how differently they impact time and in turn how it impacts us. how strange this thing we call time. how strange.

Posted by jeff pitcher at October 26, 2004 01:04 PM

....................................