California Gulls.

I fell asleep once we drove over the Nevada border. I was physically drained, emotionally embarrassed, and my body collapsed on itself. It was the middle of the day and it was hot. I listened to the Red Sox lose to the Angels and their season evaporated like the radio signal when we reached the California hills. I felt bad. Brandon was exhausted and Domenic was asleep too. I don't know how he drove the whole way. It wasn't the sleep so much as the escape that I enjoyed. I wanted to go home. I have completely missed the point of this trip. The Patriots lost to the Broncos and we listened to it. I don't like this place very much. It is red and hot and brown. It is just what I knew it was but I am not what I thought I was. I miss my bed.

The day was pulsing when I woke. My body felt hot. I felt like I was drowning in exhaustion. Domenic had been texting a friend and he said we might have a place to stay. The news didn't do much. I was staring out the window and the sun was rude and I could not escape it. There was an ad on the radio for tires or animal cruelty or cvs and I shut it off. I looked at Brandon. His cheek bones were barely hanging onto the skin beneath his eyes. It hung like saddle bags.

It was getting late but we gained the last hour we would in this country and it provided some relief but not much.

"I want to go home."

"Me too."

We drove for thirty miles in silence. When we reached the 405 the sun was waning but strong. I rubbed my eyes. Domenic slapped me in the back of the head and I turned around and starting punching at him. My body was tight and the sleeping bags were in the way so I punched them instead. It was not satisfying and I turned back around and felt my neck burn. Brandon laughed with half of his heart and we sat in silence again. I dozed off and then we pulled into a Jack in the Box and I ate half of a chicken sandwich because I knew I should be hungry. I wasn't. My stomach turned and I slouched in the front seat and put my legs on the dash. I needed to stretch but I didn't want to get out of the car. I heard Domenic speaking with Hanna outside the car in the parking lot of the Jack and the Box and Circuit city. It was muffled but I heard him say, "two lights - second right? and then what you will be ouside? Ok. Alright, yeah. We will see you in a few. Ok. Yeah we have it," he laughed, "see you soon."

I could smell salt. It was a light scent like mist. We parked and I got out. I immediately lit a cigarette. I saw a girl bounding towards us in the late afternoon sun.

"I can't believe you guys are here!"

Domenic hugged her and and I couldn't help but smile. Brandon hugged her too and rocked back from one leg to another while they embraced. It was nice to see. I introduced myself and we just started walking down the road towards a statue of a man holding a surfboard.

"How long have you been living here?"

"I have been at Imperial beach for a few months, living with my boyfriend and five of his friends from the navy.

"That must get crowded, are you sure you have room for us?"

"As long as it is only for one night," she smiled, "just kidding. Of course."

We walked towards a guy walking a pug puppy. "Xander!"

She ran towards the puppy. It could barely keep its legs beneath it. She picked it up.

"Come meet the boys. This is my boyfriend Justin. This is Xander, our new puppy."

"This may sounds iffy, but that is the cutest thing I have ever seen. Honest to God."

I pet his head and his whole face scrunched because the skin was hanging like play-dough.

We shook hands with Justin and walked towards the statue. When we reached the statue my eyes focused and I rubbed them. It was too vast. It was too beautiful. The sun was setting. It was setting over the water. I couldn't believe it. Vegas was washed away like that. Everything felt good again. We actually made it. Coast to coast. The ocean on the other side. The other ocean. Right in front of us. I took off my shoes and ran down in the sand. It was cold on my toes. I didn't stop. I ran straight in the water and dove into a breaking waves. I felt like a child. I was laughing and I swallowed some sea water. It tasted salty and warm. I lay on my back and a wave crashed over my head and spun me around under water. I planted my feet on the bottom and shot myself to the surface. I came out of the water and landed on my back. It felt wonderful. I looked and Domenic had already swam out a ways. He was laughing. Justin was laughing. Brandon was feeling the water out and like a child ran away from the surf, venturing back ever more curious. Hanna was laughing. Dripping wet we walked back to the apartment.

"Bloody Mary's anyone?"

"Over here."

"Yes."

"I'll do one."

We filled up our cups and walked back down to the water to watch the sunset. The sand was ice cold on my toes. The breeze blew light against my face. I was staring at the sun, it was red. The sky was purple and blue and pink and orange. We just sat for a while and I watched as the light slowly dwindled and we were left with the night. I watched a sea gull hop around the sand. It was a California gull. The first one I have ever seen. It was so familiar yet I knew it was the first. I smiled because nothing is too far from home even far from home. Nothing is untouchable and nothing is unknown. It is all here, all there, everywhere to understand. I am only here now but I think there is a part of me everywhere, like there is a part of everyone in me.

Vegas

We drove over the highway until we could see the strip in the distance. It was like a beacon or ant hill mounding out of the ground. I looked at Brandon and he smiled. It was four o'clock in the afternoon on Friday.

We left Las Vegas Sunday morning and I did not look at Brandon until we were halfway to San Diego.

Lake Mead and One Hell of a Desert.

The sun was setting as we drove across the hills of the Mojave desert. The climate has changed drastically since the Rockies - unrecognizable. It is the kind of change that makes everything that has happened before as clear as fog and the heat is so overpowering it is like I haven't ever known anything else. The wind beat on the car and the radio echoed softly in the background. I was sitting with my feet propped on the dash with a bandanna gathering sweat above my brow. We were soaked and the sun was exploding on the horizon line. We drove next to cliffs and into valleys, dry grass and plants scattered sparse as far as I could see. Nothing was taller than a few feet and looking at the dry brown color my throat felt dry and I sipped one of our last waters and looked at Domenic with concern. The excitement of this trip has faded. It isn't that we are bored, but having traversed more than half of the country less is left to the imagination, or at least the unknown. The feeling now is a false sense of understanding, a wisdom that doesn't exist except in our egos. A feeling of accomplishment though we have yet to accomplish anything.

Domenic was sitting in the backseat chewing on beef jerky in the heat. He was moving his mouth slowly, as if retiring to the weight of the day, in no rush, with no intentions. He was wearing aviator sunglasses and a cotton plaid shirt unbuttoned exposing a discolored undershirt with cargo shorts and untied hiking boots. We were all dirty. Covered in a film that almost felt normal and the thought of cleanliness was foreign and intimidating, "I feel disgusting but I like it," said Domenic nearly echoing my thoughts.

Brandon smiled, staring off towards the high cliffs now partially blotting the sun, "I like it too. I feel so far away from myself, I have been so lost in thought the last few hours. How far 'til Mead?"

"We are close, but I guess the driving gets slow up ahead."

The day was collapsing quickly like a tent, being propped up by only the stiffness of the sun and stubbornness of the heat. Climbing up a hill we reached the crest and the lake shimmered in the fading light and the heat. It looked inviting and dead - still - like the desert it entertained the notion of mystery despite more than anything a lack of something.

We had passed the last town before the park nearly forty minutes ago and had not stopped to buy alcohol or wood. We were frustrated when we realized this, but around the lake there were a few buildings that held promise. We slowed and pulled into a parking lot in front of a shabby hotel that seemed to be the center of civilization in the barren land and Brandon parked the car. I got out and strolled slowly, stiff from the drive, towards the doors. The day was gone but the night had not yet arrived. Once again, we would be setting up camp in the dark.

"Let's just stay here for like a week. I'm so tired of driving and breaking down camp and doing it all over again. Let's just do nothing for a few days." We all nodded in a subordinate agreement. Exhaustion wasn't the word to describe the feeling in my bones. It wasn't exhaustion. I don't know what it was, but it wasn't exhaustion. I suppose it was something like the string of sentences preceding this one, some kind of shrug of the shoulders and a concession to never understand.

As we walked towards the hotel a man in a white security pick up slowed down next to us and rolled down his window, "What can I do you for?" he said.

In the fading light he was difficult to make out. He had a thick black mustache and it was lighter than his skin. He was thin, and he had a soft face which I trusted immediately.

"Anywhere we can buy wood this time of night?"

"Firewood?"

"Yes."

"Well, damn now. You see the general store around the corner shuts down after dark. I don't know if you could catch it before the doors close. I got a friend who has got his own wood pile, lemme go swing through there see if I can help you guys out. As for the booze? Sorry fellas. They only sell that for four hours during the day."

The man smiled and his teeth were violently white in the dark. He looked younger than he was. I didn't expect anything but an interrogation when he pulled up but he seemed more willing to help before hello's were formally exchanged. His shirt was clean but old. It was just a plain t shirt with a thin plastic badge denoting his position. It was placed perfectly above his heart and although he was driving a Ford from the late 1980's it looked brand new.

Brandon went inside because there was free coffee. I walked away across the parking lot. I needed to stretch. My legs felt like firecrackers. I lit a Marlboro and walked into the grey blue towards the last strip of pink hovering above the cliff line in the distance. There was still light but I couldn't see ten feet in front of me. It was murky and the air had weight like cloth. There was no sound, no wind, nothing. It was just dead air and my heart slowed. The night was purple now and then black. I saw headlights turn the corner and let the smoke fester in my lungs. I turned back towards the hotel and walked - there were a few lights in the parking lot and the halogen was burning and heating slowly, creating a false orb that didn't offer any relief from the night. I walked towards the truck. It was idling and shaking rumbling barely audible in the night. I blew the smoke and saw it twist and twirl in the headlights and then disappear, so we do.

"Any luck?"

"Yeah, check it out in the back."

I pressed my forearms on the top of the bed and threw my gut against the side of the truck. I squinted in the dark and saw a few loose bundles of wood.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. You didn't spect me to drive all out of my way to not help you out," he chuckled lightly, "hold out your arms I'll start the stacking."

I followed his directions blindly and I could feel a rush of water behind my eyes. My back tingled and I don't know where I am or what I thought I was looking for but I am who I am and who I am is because of everyone else - everything else. He couldn't notice in the dark and after the wood was stacked I turned and walked briskly to the car. Brandon and Domenic came outside to help. We found a way to fit it in and I turned to face the man.

"Thanks. I don't know why you just did that, but I appreciate it."

"Of course, I'll be around later so if you need more flag me down, maybe I'll swing by for a beer."

"If we had some," Domenic smiled.

"We have whiskey," said Brandon reaching behind the seat and pulling a half full bottle in the haze of the heat.

"What is your name, sir?"

"Phillip."

"Phillip. Nice to meet you, Phillip. I'm William. This is Brandon and Domenic."

"Nice to meet you."

"You have been a big help, actually made my night."

"I aim to please."

"This man aims to please," said Domenic.

"Thanks again."

"Not a problem. Don't act so surprised. There ain't nothin' to do around here. Don't flatter yourself. That whole wood thing was out of sheer boredom nothing else." He smiled and his teeth shimmered. We laughed and shook hands. I walked away with a jog waving into the blinding light and squinting as I got in the car. We drove away to find a camp. I never saw him again.

Moab and the Colorado.

Boulder was beautiful. Denver was fun. We spent one evening camping in the foothills right outside Boulder and went into town to see a movie at a cinema. It was a nice break from the outdoors, and the movie was entertaining as hell. Inglorious Bastards, we saw. I was riveted. After the movie we had a light fire and it rained a little, so we called it an early night and slept on the hard ground. Joeb was leaving the next day and it was bitter sweet. It was nice - the extra space in the car and the vanishing need to be anywhere except California but we still had a month for that. It was sad to see him leave, though. You can never be sure when you will see someone again, and as we part ways I knew it was the last time this version of ourselves would cross paths. It is said people grow apart, but that is silly. It sounds like a weak attempt to sound profound. It is just one of those messy little details of our overlooked lives. This world is too large - our lives too little. Sometimes we wait for things that will never arrive. I am sad to see him leave.

It was back to the three of us and for the first time we had no real destination and didn't know a soul west of Chicago, east of San Francisco. It felt like a culmination of what we were waiting for. We left Denver around noon and started driving South to the Grand Canyon. Brandon checked the weather at the North Rim and saw it was hovering around zero. We put the brakes on that idea. Where to? - we thought for a while. Domenic spread out the map on his lap in the front seat. It was tearing at the folds and had a soggy appeal from all of the highlighter marks. Scanning the area a concerned look came over his face because of all the nothing in that part of the country.

"To be honest, I'm tired of the cold." We were driving through the Rockies and as we past Vail thought of stopping, ending the trip right there. "I'm just not ready for winter, not yet," I said as we passed the stick evergreens dipped in snow like splattered paint, dripping and drying in the cold winds under the singe of the sun.

"Utah?"

"What about it?"

"Do you want to go there? I see Arches National Park. I don't know much about it."

"Yeah, anywhere is fine."

We were disappointed in missing the Canyon, definitely. Maybe because we had never been, but being able to change the direction of the car to southwest without any repercussions or people to tell was a more exciting prospect. I had lost service on my cell phone when we came through the Rockies and I had yet to see more than a bar for more than a minute. I was starting to feel very alone and disconnected from my life, or at least what is familiar. I began worrying about the choice to distance myself from my friends, the ones I respect, because I feel like what I learn from them is invaluable and I will be a different person because of my decision to leave. In lieu of their absence I try to focus on what is good, because until God stands in front of my face nothing else feels remotely real.

"Can we camp here tonight?" Brandon asked the attendant at the entrance to the park.

"No. We only have about twenty sites and they are full."

My heart sank a little. The park was beautiful, canyons and cliffs swelled like muscles of the earth. They were a red clay and the sun intensified the color. It was warm, and when we were driving the breeze felt light on my face.

"If you drive south another four miles and take a left on 28, you can camp along that road. It is along the Colorado river. You can camp in all sorts of pull offs and what not along the river bank. You can have fires there too."

"That sounds wonderful. Thank you Ma'am you have been very gracious," Brandon said animated, "This is for you."

This summer we worked on the beach. All kinds of things wash up because of the way the currents work in and out of the bay. It is like the ocean's version of a closet - a dead body washed up at the beginning of the summer. It was a floater, and to be honest we had often discussed dealing with that. I couldn't believe it happened, but I didn't mind not being the one that found it. We had collected action figures and green guys and bathtub toys and spacemen and set them up in the beach shack because we were bored and it was entertaining. We brought those figures with us, and were handing them out at each toll across the country. This was the first and last park ranger to receive one and I am not sure if that is relevant to the story, but it is a part of the truth of it. She smiled and thanked Brandon and we drove away feeling cheated but I didn't know why.

The weather was nice. It felt like late August. We were nervous about not finding a place before dark once again but there was less concern because we were tired and Domenic said, "We could drive all night if we had too," and I realized we had spent most every night somewhere and we didn't have to spend it anywhere except on the road. It is a home for anyone who needs it and I find it rarely discriminates - perhaps never. It has been weeks since we've been settled. I have found solace in this. I lit a cigarette and turned up the dial on the radio and Bob Marley filtered through the car. The road will do just fine tonight.

As the light fought as a fire red we pulled off the road and found a place to camp. I exhaled and my hands relaxed as Brandon turned off the key and there was silence. Quiet and still we sat with the sunlight reflecting off the canyon walls in the late hours of the evening. In Utah we were able to laugh and it was warm and we began drinking wine as we set up the camp. We had stopped for firewood so in the evening we stacked the wood and began burning it slowly. Domenic was casually emptying the car, rearranging and asking for advice as we now had opened up so much of the car. Everything was loose here.

We sat around the fire and passed a jug of wine around and sang songs. We were playing the guitar and the drums and they were loud over the rush of the river. After a few hours we explored and Domenic fell down the bank and almost in the water. I laughed and the cliff gave way and I fell too. It was pitch black and we were laughing next to the raging Colorado drunk as we'd ever been sipping wine that made our mouths a maroon black in the night. We sat down by the fire and I looked at the highway of stars exploding above my head, constricted by the high walls of the canyon. It isn't much this night, I thought. We are just sitting in an obscure place and nobody knows where we are. There won't be a record of this and it won't ever be a great achievement in my life but right now is good and I don't want to be anywhere else. I looked at Brandon's face with shadows dancing with the rhythm of the fire and I tapped my toes to the beat of the guitar and we laughed until we fell asleep in our chairs. I woke up to the simmering coals and shaking I woke up Domenic and Brandon and we went to sleep on the warm ground.

The Rocky Mountain Range

"Why does it feel like everyone is evacuating?" Brandon asked nervously as a steady stream of headlights was cascading down from the mountains as we drove solemn deep into the cliffs. It was dark, not black, but the light was hidden by the rocks and any minute it felt like the curtain would be closed on the day. The long drive had taken its toll on all of us and Domenic was hugging the wheel close and his eyes were being tugged at by two black bags.

"I don't know, maybe because they aren't complete idiots," Domenic said frankly, too tired to lighten the increasingly smothering night.

"Do we even know where we are going?" The road turned sharply and Domenic slowed to ten miles an hour. The cliffs hung above us like a canopy and a river tore through the crevice angrily - I shivered.

"I'd say up." The road continued to wind and switchbacks brought us ever higher and after each corner I held my breath just to find another cliff and another crevice and another corner. Another breath, another cliff, another crevice, another corner. It is hard to say what I was expecting but a notion began seizing my chest that I just wanted to know something. It all seemed so unreal I wanted it to end and I wanted to know exactly what was happening. It was then the snow started.

We didn't say anything to each other. I could feel gravity pulling on my chest urging us to not climb any higher. I looked behind us and saw tail lights. We should probably turn around, I thought.

"Jesus it's cold," said Joeb as he stuck his hand out the window.

I smiled meakly, "At least we are dressed for it."

"This will be fun." Brandon had been sitting in the back and I had not noticed how loose he had remained. Actually, everyone seemed to be accepting the situation and I was able to relax and it was then we reached seven thousand feet and the entrance to Estes National Park.

"I can't see a thing." The snow was attacking the car almost intentionally and the headlights barely pierced the night ahead. We pulled up to an empty ranger kiosk and there was a sign that warned of weather and below it a map with some suggestions of where to camp. Domenic rolled down his window and snow began whipping in the car and he quickly grabbed a map and closed the window silencing the howling night.

"What do we do?"

"What does the map say?"

"It looks like we can take a left here then four miles down there are places to pull off and camp. This weather is bad, man. I don't know how I feel about this."

We were all nervous and waiting for someone to admit that we were not prepared for a night in the snow, but nobody would say anything.

Domenic pressed the gas and I heard the tires spin in the snow desperately grabbing at the road. They caught and we lurched forward and I could hear the transmission wine and my stomach rolled a little.

As we entered deeper into the night my nerves became dull - which could possibly be explained by the cold. There was something hiding in the night, and we all felt we were on the verge of some kind of discovery. We had food, clothing, the car was warm and we were far from home. I looked at Joeb and he nodded and I knew we were really doing it and the night became sharp. I felt a tingle in my fingers and I realized my face was nearly pressed against the windshield and then without much warning Domenic stopped the car and got out. He disappeared in the night and I could hear his laughter over like an echo and then we were all standing in the snow and it was cold and I could feel it in my spine and the air was clean in my lungs. Snow was falling fast and accumulating on the ground. Domenic popped open the tailgate door on the station wagon and brandon took a spade and began clearing out an area for a tent. We worked in silence and in the cold. The snow was soft. It didn't fall like it had when we were driving - like it was attacking us, but instead it landed on our heads and our arms and it was a cooling sensation which was relaxing. Joeb was staking the tent in the ground and I laid a tarp down on the already damp canvas bottom. We quickly tossed our sleeping bags and pillows in the tent to keep them from getting wet and the rain cover looked like it would be sufficient for the snow. It had been a long day, and when Brandon and Domenic had also set up a tent we all climbed back in the car and changed out of our wet clothes. As we sat there catching our breath the snow lightened and we could see very clearly because of the reflection of the moon on the snow. There was only a few inches on the ground but the intensity of the storm had ignited something old inside us.

Brandon had been quiet all day. I looked at him now and he was peering out the window at the mountains now visible in the light of the night. He was smiling and the he looked content in the shadows of the night. The snow stopped completely and we all got out of the car and just walked around the camp for a little while, until I saw Brandon reach down in the snow and form it with his palms. I knew what was coming so I ducked behind the car, but Domenic, mesmorized by the moon, stood exposed to the airborn snowball and it hit him in the side of the face. I laughed violently and began forming one of my own, and popped up from behind the car and hit Brandon in the back of the head. It was a blur after that, our laughter and panting echoing over the cliffs and exploding across the earth. Brandon was tackled by Joeb and his face was pressed in the snow. Domenic was running towards me and he slipped and fell down a small hill. I was laughing so hard I couldn't breathe. We were soaking wet again but it felt like it should.

I can remember one night when I was younger a storm rolled in unexpectedly. The moments before the storm started felt electric, like there was energy pulsing through everything outside in the grey afternoon. The wind picked up, and the trees whispered to each other as if to prepare for the looming storm - and then the snow started, quietly and small at first. The heat of the asphalt instantly melting the first brave flakes that dared settle on its surface. The threat of the storm was so powerful they had already cancelled school the next day. I convinced my parents to let me go to Timmy's and when I got there the flakes were like feathers, falling with force and overpowering the earth. Margaret had plugged in a halogen lamp in the bathroom and placed it in the window. It lit up the whole yard. We were climbing up the hill and sledding down until eventually the whole neighborhood was there. Margaret stood outside in boots and her bathrobe, smoking a cigarette and watching us regress in the night. She didn't say anything, and at one point after I was thrown from the caravan of sleds and tubes flying down the hill I sat in the snow and I watched her. She looked empty. She was just there and that was it. I saw her dip her stunted cigarette in the snow and light another. She was staring at me but I could tell she couldn't see me. Or maybe she could. Maybe that was the point. I sat in the snow until it soaked through my clothes and I was cold. I was just looking at her. The snow had covered her shoulders and her hair and she started to transform until she retreated out of the light into the night. I don't know where she went but when she came back she was calling for Timmy and they both disappeared inside the house. Some of the kids sled for a while but the snow had let up and the intensity of the night had vanished, so I walked home wet and shivering in the cold. Nothing else happened that night except my mother was baking cookies when I was home. The storm was finished and we went back to school and it felt like nothing had even happened at all. I suppose nothing has ever happened - or everything has too many times to change anything. That night was different than this one. I'm not sure if it was because of who I am or who I was, but everything is different now. Everything has changed.