Tuesday arrives, slowly. Things take shape, a last minute cleaning request from one of my house cleaning clients puts things into warp speed. I now must pack and clean a house before I can get on the road.
This job has already told me to arrive early in the morning or I will not be able to work until the following day of my arrival as I will need to "placed" at one of her many properties. She had also described her approach to taking care of her workers with this sentence "I come by every few days with water, but thats about it." So I knew the job was going to be strange before I ever started out. Now Im a day late already and trying to get on the road and I have to stop everything and go clean for my mormon clients with a stockpile of end of the world rations in their basement.
I pack my car in a rush, snapping the sheets onto my peice of foam smashed into the back of my jeep which will serve as my bed. Piling my backpack of clothes and babywipes in on top of that. All the water I can obtain is bottled into various plastic jugs and put in the car and I leave out for the day.
I clean the house and wonder at how anyone could possibly smear so much black soot or whatever it is thats oozing all over the walls and doors around in one two day period. I stare blankly at the "god is good" poster in the childs room and shut the door. The only thing interesting about these people is the end of the world rations in thier basement ordered direct from the Mormon run proccessing plant in Utah. For mormons by mormons, they are the FUBU of religions.
With the laundry finally finished spinning and the beds all perfectly made and every crumb vaccumed I am free to hit the open road finally around 3pm. Not to bad I think to myself I missed the morning "placement" anyway so Ill be hitting town around 6pm just in time for dinner and sleep. Start the day fresh ready to get placed.
I make the drive up the coast, hitting Ft. Bragg around 4pm. My favorite place to eat is closed, I look from one side of the small town street to the other. There's a sushi place on the other side of the street down the block, I dont mind eating there and they are relatively quick which meets my current criteria for places I will eat right now. Sushi is closed. Next door is a hot dog shop, which is always open and always strangely empty. I decide to take my chances. Oddly the hot dog shop serves wraps, and all kinds of other Mexican foods despite its sign and decorations. Two giggling Mexican guys make me a veggie wrap and I cant help but wonder if they arent giggling at me stoned out of my gourd as I make my way to the bathroom.
The wrap turns out to be delicious, including croutons instead of tofu which I thought was clever of them. I stop at a coffee shop on my way back to the car to get a treat, a mocha. Raspberry of course. Back in the car I learn that I no longer enjoy raspberry mocha's as I once did as the taste of refined sugar after not eating it for weeks is actually not as awesome as you would think. The drive winds along the ocean. Sea birds are flying around and a light fog has been enveloping the day so far. I hit a small town of Westport and cant help but starting to day dream about living in the now for sale Westport Mansion.
The road winds up into the mountains and I start my climb over the hill to 101 north, and Garberville. The trees get bigger and the sides of the roads become littered with "sasquatch sightings" signs and knick knack stores selling redwood burls, hanging baskets and tickets to the "drive through tree". It is beautiful here, and my mood is high. Coming out the other side of the forest I pass Davidson campground and think what a nice time it wouldve been to drive out here and camp for my birthday instead of getting so shit faced on tequila like I do every year. Alas some things have not changed.
I reach Garberville, and the scenery has turned ugly. Garberville is a tiny town, just a drive through really at the base of the kings range foot hills. Inhabited by scraggly looking hippy types and the people who work for them. Weed rules the industries here and it is obvious. Trimigrints (people who come from out of town to trim weed) litter the streets, in cars, on foot with back-backs and dogs. People picking them up and meeting with other growers litter the parking lots staring at phones and sketchily looking around. The person I am working for has asked me to meet them at the Rays food market right on the main street in town. I park and text her to let her know I have finally arrived. She will be there in a minute, I go inside the store to procure groceries. I am followed by an older man covered in dirt smears and unruly hair that sniffs the air and announces "you sure do smell nice" to me. I know I must make my time in town short. I quickly run through the grocery store dodging other trimmigrints like myself and locals getting booze trying desperately not to forget anything I may need during the next week or so.
I spot another guy staring at me and also looking for foods. He seems to be talking to a lady who sounds strikingly like the person I have been talking to on the phone. I swing around the corner of the deli and make eye contact. Smile and then proceed to finish my shopping. I return to my car, to find my phone ringing. I answer and find that my pick up has left the parking lot without me to take the other guy up to her place and she asks me to "sit tight" while she does this and she will be back for me.
I wait in my car, texting and surveying the scene in the Rays food parking lot. A black man across the street at the gas station is yelling at people to help him. Two police cars arrive on the scene to assist with whatever his issue is. I glance back at my clock, I arrived at 6 and its now 7.... The gas station issue is resolved and the police hang around their cars parked on the street across from Rays. I watch them over my phone as I text my boyfriend. The police cars disappear down the street, only to reappear quickly in the rays food store parking lot two parking spaces over from me. The police get out of thier cars and hang out in the parking lot, loosely staring at me in my car and trying to get my attention, or possibly spook me into doing something dumb. I check the time again as the police cars leave the parking lot. 7:45. As 8 rolls around the police cars appear again in the parking lot and this time they park directly in front of my car. They joke and stand outside their cars...but clearly I am in the sights now. I avoid eye contact, and start looking for that campground I passed on google maps. The police go into Rays, aparently something warranting their attentions more than myself mustve been in there. I text my contact and tell her I cant stay at Rays anymore and Im going to camp. We decide she will text me in the morning and come get me to start work.
I drive the 9 minutes back to Davidson campground, the light is leaving the sky and I know I will have to do the self check in at a state park routine once I arrive, in the dark. Somehow I am not the only person checking into a mostly deserted campground on a tuesday night afterdark as I am followed by another car with two restless looking occupants trying to figure out the self check in.
I drop my cash into the envelope and proceed to pick my campsite in the dark. I cruise the campground looking for the authoritarian looking trailer that signifies the park rangers area, then strategically choose my site based on this trailer location.
I then gather wood as the sign says not to and make myself a small fire to heat up water for sleepy time tea. I am camped under a giant sequoia tree, or what I like to call an oracle tree. The firelight lights up the bottom 8 feet of the tree and I can just see the bottom branches dancing in and out of the firelight while I drink my tea and wonder what kind of animals target white jeep Cherokees in the forest for food. All in all the day is not to bad, I have groceries, I have my Jeep all decked out for camping anyway and Im sipping a nice cup of tea and looking forward to reading Jack Londons South Sea Tales and slipping off to sleep.
I crawl into my jeep to sleep, lock the doors and then promptly set off the car alarm by attempting to put my key in the ignition to turn on the music. The car alarm breaks the silence of the forest and I feel like a complete human idiot among magestic forest spirits. I sleep the sleep of a single women in the forest curled up between my spare tire and the back wheel well. All is right with the world once more.
This job has already told me to arrive early in the morning or I will not be able to work until the following day of my arrival as I will need to "placed" at one of her many properties. She had also described her approach to taking care of her workers with this sentence "I come by every few days with water, but thats about it." So I knew the job was going to be strange before I ever started out. Now Im a day late already and trying to get on the road and I have to stop everything and go clean for my mormon clients with a stockpile of end of the world rations in their basement.
I pack my car in a rush, snapping the sheets onto my peice of foam smashed into the back of my jeep which will serve as my bed. Piling my backpack of clothes and babywipes in on top of that. All the water I can obtain is bottled into various plastic jugs and put in the car and I leave out for the day.
I clean the house and wonder at how anyone could possibly smear so much black soot or whatever it is thats oozing all over the walls and doors around in one two day period. I stare blankly at the "god is good" poster in the childs room and shut the door. The only thing interesting about these people is the end of the world rations in thier basement ordered direct from the Mormon run proccessing plant in Utah. For mormons by mormons, they are the FUBU of religions.
With the laundry finally finished spinning and the beds all perfectly made and every crumb vaccumed I am free to hit the open road finally around 3pm. Not to bad I think to myself I missed the morning "placement" anyway so Ill be hitting town around 6pm just in time for dinner and sleep. Start the day fresh ready to get placed.
I make the drive up the coast, hitting Ft. Bragg around 4pm. My favorite place to eat is closed, I look from one side of the small town street to the other. There's a sushi place on the other side of the street down the block, I dont mind eating there and they are relatively quick which meets my current criteria for places I will eat right now. Sushi is closed. Next door is a hot dog shop, which is always open and always strangely empty. I decide to take my chances. Oddly the hot dog shop serves wraps, and all kinds of other Mexican foods despite its sign and decorations. Two giggling Mexican guys make me a veggie wrap and I cant help but wonder if they arent giggling at me stoned out of my gourd as I make my way to the bathroom.
The wrap turns out to be delicious, including croutons instead of tofu which I thought was clever of them. I stop at a coffee shop on my way back to the car to get a treat, a mocha. Raspberry of course. Back in the car I learn that I no longer enjoy raspberry mocha's as I once did as the taste of refined sugar after not eating it for weeks is actually not as awesome as you would think. The drive winds along the ocean. Sea birds are flying around and a light fog has been enveloping the day so far. I hit a small town of Westport and cant help but starting to day dream about living in the now for sale Westport Mansion.
The road winds up into the mountains and I start my climb over the hill to 101 north, and Garberville. The trees get bigger and the sides of the roads become littered with "sasquatch sightings" signs and knick knack stores selling redwood burls, hanging baskets and tickets to the "drive through tree". It is beautiful here, and my mood is high. Coming out the other side of the forest I pass Davidson campground and think what a nice time it wouldve been to drive out here and camp for my birthday instead of getting so shit faced on tequila like I do every year. Alas some things have not changed.
I reach Garberville, and the scenery has turned ugly. Garberville is a tiny town, just a drive through really at the base of the kings range foot hills. Inhabited by scraggly looking hippy types and the people who work for them. Weed rules the industries here and it is obvious. Trimigrints (people who come from out of town to trim weed) litter the streets, in cars, on foot with back-backs and dogs. People picking them up and meeting with other growers litter the parking lots staring at phones and sketchily looking around. The person I am working for has asked me to meet them at the Rays food market right on the main street in town. I park and text her to let her know I have finally arrived. She will be there in a minute, I go inside the store to procure groceries. I am followed by an older man covered in dirt smears and unruly hair that sniffs the air and announces "you sure do smell nice" to me. I know I must make my time in town short. I quickly run through the grocery store dodging other trimmigrints like myself and locals getting booze trying desperately not to forget anything I may need during the next week or so.
I spot another guy staring at me and also looking for foods. He seems to be talking to a lady who sounds strikingly like the person I have been talking to on the phone. I swing around the corner of the deli and make eye contact. Smile and then proceed to finish my shopping. I return to my car, to find my phone ringing. I answer and find that my pick up has left the parking lot without me to take the other guy up to her place and she asks me to "sit tight" while she does this and she will be back for me.
I wait in my car, texting and surveying the scene in the Rays food parking lot. A black man across the street at the gas station is yelling at people to help him. Two police cars arrive on the scene to assist with whatever his issue is. I glance back at my clock, I arrived at 6 and its now 7.... The gas station issue is resolved and the police hang around their cars parked on the street across from Rays. I watch them over my phone as I text my boyfriend. The police cars disappear down the street, only to reappear quickly in the rays food store parking lot two parking spaces over from me. The police get out of thier cars and hang out in the parking lot, loosely staring at me in my car and trying to get my attention, or possibly spook me into doing something dumb. I check the time again as the police cars leave the parking lot. 7:45. As 8 rolls around the police cars appear again in the parking lot and this time they park directly in front of my car. They joke and stand outside their cars...but clearly I am in the sights now. I avoid eye contact, and start looking for that campground I passed on google maps. The police go into Rays, aparently something warranting their attentions more than myself mustve been in there. I text my contact and tell her I cant stay at Rays anymore and Im going to camp. We decide she will text me in the morning and come get me to start work.
I drive the 9 minutes back to Davidson campground, the light is leaving the sky and I know I will have to do the self check in at a state park routine once I arrive, in the dark. Somehow I am not the only person checking into a mostly deserted campground on a tuesday night afterdark as I am followed by another car with two restless looking occupants trying to figure out the self check in.
I drop my cash into the envelope and proceed to pick my campsite in the dark. I cruise the campground looking for the authoritarian looking trailer that signifies the park rangers area, then strategically choose my site based on this trailer location.
I then gather wood as the sign says not to and make myself a small fire to heat up water for sleepy time tea. I am camped under a giant sequoia tree, or what I like to call an oracle tree. The firelight lights up the bottom 8 feet of the tree and I can just see the bottom branches dancing in and out of the firelight while I drink my tea and wonder what kind of animals target white jeep Cherokees in the forest for food. All in all the day is not to bad, I have groceries, I have my Jeep all decked out for camping anyway and Im sipping a nice cup of tea and looking forward to reading Jack Londons South Sea Tales and slipping off to sleep.
I crawl into my jeep to sleep, lock the doors and then promptly set off the car alarm by attempting to put my key in the ignition to turn on the music. The car alarm breaks the silence of the forest and I feel like a complete human idiot among magestic forest spirits. I sleep the sleep of a single women in the forest curled up between my spare tire and the back wheel well. All is right with the world once more.
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