I needed to drive to California. However, I was in New Jersey.

The reason? I was starting school in four weeks in San Diego. So, I drove to North Carolina. It's kind of on the way. But more importantly, I felt that I needed a rest from this long drive before I could start a much longer drive A week or two (maybe three) to say good bye to my girlfriend Brooke wasn't hard to do. It was actually real easy. However, one day I fell onto the road and kept falling until I got to California.

But that's not it, that's not the whole story. Before I even left North Carolina, I took a wrong turn. I decided to keep going, to see what could be found. I entered South Carolina, not much different than North Carolina at that point. Saw a trailer with not only a huge confederate flag out front, but a big 'ole bloodhound on the front steps. I should have taken a picture, would've been funnier 'en hell. But, I did find manage to take a photo of this old grocery store nearby.Couldn't help thinking about that old '80s movie, "Doc Hollywood" or something, remember with Michael J. Fox? Kept thinking about that.

I entered Atlanta by nightfall. Stopped by a Whole Foods and bought some good food to eat for the long haul ahead. Ate my dinner with some guy who used to live in San Diego. Weird. Some little high school girls kept snickering at me when I walked by. Back on the road, I was feeling that heavy asphalt feeling. I missed my girl, I missed the east coast, I was headed off into the wilderness of the west coast...

I slept in my car in a Alabama hotel parking lot. It was sticky and I kept waking up because it was so damn hot. Crazy hot. I had my car packed, so I could put my boards over me while I slept in the back. I thought this was a convenient way to pack everything, but it helped another way since a security guard kept walking by (also waking me up). He looked into the car, but couldn't see me. I felt sneaky, but like I said before, I was still HOT. Super hot. That and the weird lady sleeping in her car nearby forced me back onto the road at 2 am.

With two hours of sleep and the demons of 1800 miles of road ahead of me I drove on. My goal was to make a dent in Texas by the next night. The distance between me and the west coast was pressing and I felt no desire to take any photos on the way. But I should have! When will I be back there? I drove past the exit to go to Baton Rouge, where my friend Lillian lives. I drove past the exit for Jackson, a town that Johnny Cash and his lovely wife wrote that great song about. What was her name? Something Carter. Judith? Whoever she is, I needed to put some miles behind me and wasn't going to explore towns like Jackson, yet. Maybe later.

I came upon Dallas on rush hour traffic... what a nightmare. I couldn't find the grassy knoll/book depository area. I saw it once during a horrible ride across the country in a Greyhound bus. It was a spooky moment at a very spooky area on a just plain terrible trip.

I push through Dallas, don't see the Ewing ranch anywhere and drive like a madman until I am smacking my head to keep awake. I slept in Odessa, Texas. Just listen to that name inside your head... Odessa, Texas. Hear anything? Maybe it was just my experiences there that give me the creeps. Something was there, something happened there. There is a lot of oil there, that's right. I think GW Bush met someone at the cross-roads there. The cross-roads of oil derricks. No photos, but I really should have taken some... oil derricks to the horizon. Insanity started to creep in at this point. A fanatical desire to leave Texas and especially Odessa, Texas crept into the room with me.

I speed out of town moving west on the 12 and find this crazy abandoned gas station.

Somehow, I made it to Phoenix and stayed with my friend Will Coffee. We ate and drank juice from Trader Joe's. We talked about things that had happened to us since the last we'd seen each other. Lots of things. Women and hiking and skateboarding were some topics. I also talked to my Brooke that evening, she was relieved that I had made it that far. It was raining in Phoenix and I was sitting by the pool talking on the phone. I could hear the crackle of lighting through the phone lines and I had to say good-bye to Brooke. The next morning, I start for San Diego after taking lots of photos of Will's paintings. Will, I need to call you.

I leave Phoenix and about 60 miles south run into the 8. This will be my final road to SD. Demons beware. I start seeing signs such as, "Last Gas for 80 miles" and pull into fill the beast with fire water. In this one town on the edge of the desert I found this hotel, which looked like a fine place to stay.

The sign says, "Yes, We Are Open". I couldn't believe it. I think I want to spend some more time there, they have HBO. Nearby I found another old gas station sign. Or more specifically, a "Diesel" sign. It was pretty large.

I made it to San Diego after crossing these crazy mountains that look like you're on another planet. They are called the "Chocolate Mountains" at some point. I heard that Russ Meyer filmed some great movies here, like "Amazon Women on the Moon". I took some photos out of the window of my car, but they are no good. I was concerned with not blowing the car up. There were signs that said, "turn off your air conditioning" because it was about a 45 minute drive seemingly straight up. Very steep. Once on the western edge of the United States, I went to Scott Soens' house and fell into a deep sleep.

Two months later, I went on a field trip to see the San Andreas fault and found these signs.

They are in this essay because I couldn't think of anywhere else to put them. Enough!