Today we made it to Sutherlin. It's our fourth day walking Interstate Five northward since the disaster. Hoping each new valley we overlook from a ridge above our last will be different, hopes were again dashed today.But Sam and I will spend the night here. The motel where we'd stayed five years ago is gone. I think we found my old college chum's restaurant, Pedotti's. I'm not sure. But where I think it was is nothing but rubble bearing gentle wisps of grey smoke rising in memory to what was the best Italian food for miles just last Tuesday. Like most everything else that was something then but now is nothing.
Despite a couple hours of gentle rain, our walk from Roseburg was the most pleasant so far. The earth is cooling. Walking is more comfortable than when we first started. Save for occasional hot spots, the smoldering has pretty much ceased. The air breathes easier, thankfully, for Sam who is closer to the acrid ground.
Tomorrow we'll continue north toward Eugene. Hopefully, we can find our family there. But I am not hopeful if what we've seen so far is indication of what lies ahead. With luck we should be there in four or five days.
And depending how we find Eugene, we will decide about Portland, our original destination until those plans were scrapped just south of Canyonville.
So far, we've encountered some nice people. Those who weren't dead, suffering or too shocked to speak anyway. And we're pleased food to this point has not been a problem. Scavenging is rich if not always appetizing.
Funny how more and more I find myself fantasizing about a McDonald's quarter pounder.
2 comments:
I feel so sad reading this. I started reading The Road by Cormac McCarthy awhile back. Still have not completed it. This post is reminiscent of that book.
Two thousand years ago they were called oracles and sibyls -- prophets who could see the future.
Two thousand years later I am their descendent -- sans their visions. I am called a siphon; a prophet who makes up his future from what he reads and sees but I am blind.
Yesterday I encountered some stunning graphics as a result of a story in the local paper on the season's latest video games that Xmas shoppers are inevitably joustling over at the risk of injury to themselves and their fellow shoppers (in the finest American spirit of peace and joy on the opening day of "injury and death by stampede" season aka Black Friday).
I saved a couple of those graphics for future use, so moved by them was I.
Studying those incredibly mind numbing pictures came on the heals of things I had just read like the Russian sociologist's prediction of the collapse & break-up of the U.S., the Bombay terrorist attacks, the 1350 homicides so far this year in the Juarez drug war, plus the 196 who have been kidnapped or disappeared there (to incl 36 Americans) and people starving just across the border in Palomas, MX, Obama's promise to Afghanistan to send more troops, et.al. and it was like a misanthrope's Black Friday dream come true!
And, ah, well, that's pretty much how this particular day's blog was born. Through the "wonderful" events only the species Homo (man) sapiens (wise - [sic]) could provide us.
I really didn't mean to pass along my angst and depression to readers but know, if it's any consolation to you, Mrs. Dada had pretty much the same reaction. (Sorry!)
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