I just got back from my too-short spring break weekend birthday trip to Sacramento, California. There are SO many wonderful stories I have for you! I have chosen to begin the next week of Sacramento Stories with one that is somewhat sensitive, therefore making me vulnerable and VERY subject to the incessant poking, prodding and downright humiliation by you, whoever you are…
Yesterday (Sunday), after going to bed at roughly 5:00 am (having danced the night and most of the morning away), I arose to the shrill screeching sound of my alarm clock. After mentally throwing the clock across the room at the wall, watching it explode into a broken heap of loathsome technology, I leaned over and shut it off. I crawled off of my comfortable air-mattress and loped into the bathroom that I had been sharing with nearly a dozen other people for the last 2 days. I got into the shower as the rest of my dancing cohorts slumbered on until the afternoon rays crept through their blinds.
The question may have occurred to you, “But Nate, why would you wake up so early while the rest of your friends basked in the glory that is known as sleep?” Well, let me answer that for you. The reason I was getting into the shower a good 3 hours before any of the others was that I was the only individual stupid enough to find a ride to California without having a scheduled ride home.
I made the 9 hour drive from Orem to Sacramento through Thursday night. The car I went in, along with its owner, however, would be staying in California for an undetermined amount of time. I was thus required to find another means of transport to safely arrive myself at home once again.
The problem wasn’t so much finding someone with an extra seat in their car, but finding a way to get my body along with my luggage safely into their presence in a timely manner, so that we could leave Sacramento to make it home in time for… well… a decent night of sleep.
My saintly host, Ashley, came to the rescue! She suggested that she drop me off with my new car-load of friends on her way home from church. This is what required me to wake up and lug my hairy butt to the shower at 9:30 am Sunday morning. I thanked her through the waterfall of tears and sobs that overcame me after realizing how little sleep I would get… I love sleep and need it desperately.
After a pleasant hour of church with the folks from New Horizons Christian Church Ashley and I headed off to meet up with my ride home.
As we pulled into the driveway, we were greeted with open arms and bacon. (Mmmmm, bacon.) The car was packed, and all 5 full-grown adults crammed ourselves into the little consumer car and began the drive home.
I knew our journey would be a memorable one from the very start. Not 20 minutes into the trip, we had to pull over and ask a police officer how to find I-80… we were lost. He pointed us in a direction… probably not the best one, but it was sufficient, and we continued on our way. Rather than pass over the north side of Lake Tahoe on I-80 as we had on the way there, we followed the 50 and the 395 down around the south side of Tahoe. We filled up with gas just outside Tahoe, and switched drivers. I took the wheel, and as we drove through Reno (which I had never done in a state of consciousness in my life), the I-80 ramp slipped by unnoticed.
As we crossed the Nevada border into California, we were forced to stop at the fruit shack border patrol. The lady asked if we were coming from Utah.
“No, we’re on our way to Utah.”
“Oh, ok… and how far south or east have you been?”
“We’re just coming from Sacramento.”
“Oh… ok… go ahead…”
“What an idiot.” I whispered under my breath as I rolled up my window and pulled away.
Well… I’m the idiot who didn’t realize that I was re-entering Cali-freakin-fornia.
I drove for over an hour (AN HOUR!) before realizing that I was, in fact, going the wrong direction. We made it all the way to Milford, doubling its population.
After much scorn, ridicule and self abuse, we turned around and headed back the way we came.
To make a long story short, I should have been home in bed around 11:00 pm last night. Instead, our little detours prolonged our 9 hour journey to almost 13 hours of pure torture. And that is why I just woke up. I hate Reno.
Mustache of the Day - Day 8 »« Sacramento
