0 This is what happened: Drive to Norcal at 22:19

I woke up early in the morning today to beat the LA traffic, driving back up to Norcal. It was barely light out, but I would venture it was just after sunrise when I hit the road. Starbuck's wasn't open so early, so it looked like I'd have to settle for gas station coffee for my caffeine. It was very, very cold, and I still had my sweater on, waiting for my engine to heat up enough to pass along the warmth through the air conditioning.

There are very few cars on the highway in the early morning, though I'm always surprised by the volume, meager as it is. When I would drive to volunteer at three in the morning, I always expected no one else up and about in Irvine, on the freeways, but I was never alone on those roads for a stretch. I always wondered what their business was at three in the morning - are they coming back from a party? An emergency visit to the hospital? And then my light would turn green and I'd drive past the intersection of our lives and be on my way.

The key to a long road trip by yourself is a good soundtrack. I commute so often that I've long since exhausted all the CDs in my car, and I have quite an extensive collection that I'd just started this year. Luckily I'd recently been given a Road Trip CD by one of my friends with different, but good musical tastes, and I've got seven or so hours ahead of me to exhaust its novelty. Let's go; another 62 miles to Los Angeles, and 438 miles to San Francisco.

Nothing eventful happened. What is there to say about this drive? You pass by a lot of grass. you pass by a lot of farms. You pass orchards here and there, and whatever fruits they are growing are never in season when you go by.You suddenly pass by police cars parked on the shoulder and suddenly slow down, praying their lights aren't going to start flashing and come after you. You pass a mile of cows somewhere in the middle, and then more hills. It is scenic if you love flatness. At one point you get caught behind one big rig passing another at a 1 mile-per-hour difference and curse that their parents had ever met. Nothing happened.

Ironically I hit traffic getting back into the city; I forgot there was traffic on Sunday afternoons, though I never know why - do people work in the afternoon? It was a beautifully clear, but windy day, one of those that make me antsy to be indoors, but I went home to unpack anyway. But at two o'clock I got a call from R:

R: Hey David, are you on your way?
Me: What?
R: Oh, it's just you said you were going to pick me up at 1, and it's 1:30 now, so...

My heart stopped. How could I have forgotten? I had promised to give rides to people along the way. I quickly counted down in my head; I had also forgotten about D and L, whose places I am supposed to be right now. How did I forget? Days' worth of emailing and studious planning, down to the minute and for who was going to be in which seat, disregarded and forgotten. What happened to me?

I pulled my phone away from my face and looked at the time. 1:38. Should I at least call around and try to find rides for them from other people? Should I go back down and get them myself? That would be unrealistic, and I don't think my mind or body could take driving 1300 miles a day. But I have inadvertently screwed over three people who, like me, had school the next day. What a mistake I've made. Was I simply in such a rush to leave? It did feel like such a spontaneous action to get up and go.

"David?"

I hung up.

0 Exhortation to Exploration: Irvine at 21:09

There's a stretch of a bike path along the 405 South I'd always wanted to ride on, just to see what it was like. I finally did today.



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I actually got there by accident; I simply set out on my bike at home, after pumping up its tired wheels, and went exploring. I found a trail I'd never been on and followed it for awhile, all the while being punished by my bike which somehow knew I'm out of shape. It was a really clear and beautiful day in Irvine, though, and I was really glad to have time to be outside.

On another note, as I was heading home, two middleschoolers on bicycles sped past me at an intersection and I could not catch up. Another day, kids... when I haven't just climbed a mountain and hills for an hour.