Sitka or Bust: Commute The World

I’ve never quite been one to see the dark clouds rolling in, but this trip did start out on the wrong foot, and more importantly, I noticed as much. I left campus on Monday, barreling out of town straight from a last minute and unscheduled work session and threw all my worldly possessions into my car. And by all my worldly possessions I pretty much mean that I have the stuff of a wealthy hobo; a few blankets, some canned goods, and a trusted yet foul smelling dog. I made it to the edge of town with puffy eyes and a sweatshirt sleeve that was soaked through with all the memories of my home for the past three years. I really didn’t think skipping town would affect me so  much, but every old mining building made me think of something I’d done, or someone I really will most likely never see again.

About 10 hours into a 27 hour journey my dogged car limped itself to the side of the highway, laid down, and dropped into a coma. My father determined her demise was a burnt belt (probably due to seeing charred and molten rubber where a belt normally would have been visible). I concurred with his theory. We hunkered down for the night outside a 7-11, waiting for the shop to open up the next morning. Everything detrimental always happens in the dead of night, at least when my driving record is concerned. 

We coasted into the shop lot early the next morning after a delicious feast of portable death bites from a well-known fast food chain. Eating there too often will definitely put hair on your chest. Precisely the reason I also avoid Lima beans. we happened to find the sketchiest shop owner of all time, of course. This is especially hard to do in the Midwest where everyone is just peachy, but we are just racking up the bad juju at this point. He decides to charge us about 200% of my car’s actual worth at this point so we call in reinforcements and hitch a ride to the first-leg destination, AKA my grandparent’s place. At this point my car’s side metal plating also decides its time to jump ship and take its chances in the unforgiving world as scrap metal rather than hideous, yet necessary metal.

Overall, instead of the road time taking 27-29 hours from college to my residence, we have to add in fixing time, waiting time, and sweating bullets time. I left campus Monday afternoon and reached home midnight on Thursday. I think my dog was hallucinating in the heat of the backseat, I officially took four days off my life span through fast food consumption, and my car is now on the lam. But did I see this as a warning sign? Nope. This was the start of an adventure. I’m currently sitting in the Seattle airport writing the first-leg down, but I feel a lot more comfortable in a lit airport than under a shady streetlight in The Middle of Nowhere, USA.