Today I wanted to share a little piece of writing from a few months ago.
When I was 22 and 23, I lived in what is known as “Gold Country” in California, a region that seemed unique due to its location in the Sierra Nevada Foothills. California’s diversity in relation to elevation gradient shocked me--I could drive one hour over Donner Pass to Lake Tahoe and spend the day waist deep in powdery snow, ideal for snowshoes or Nordic skis, and the next day, drive an hour toward the Central Valley and hike with a t-shirt in intense sunlight, gazing at waterfalls roaring with the snowmelt from higher grounds. I was doing AmeriCorps, a national service program, and I spent a year working for a national river nonprofit group, exploring Sierra Nevada meadows for field work and spending all of my free time with the other AmeriCorps members, gallivanting around the Sierra. I often biked to work, a hilly route from Grass Valley to Nevada City that enlivened my senses and made my legs remember themselves after a day sitting in the office. My bike commute started by taking me directly past a UHaul dealership. Toward the end of my AmeriCorps year, I was uncertain about my future, searching for jobs, and trying to figure out what came next. Often I would whiz by the UHaul lot, catching speed on the slight downhill, and glance daringly at the nearest UHaul truck, studying its advertised destination painted on the side. As time went on and my employment end date trudged closer, I became increasingly attentive to the UHaul trucks, convinced that these rentals would hold some type of glimpse to my future. Coos Bay, Oregon. St. Joseph, Missouri. Indianapolis, Indiana. Each destination offered itself to me with its attractive illustration an iconic event or site to see. Looking back, I can see how open to opportunity I was, and appreciate that--it seems as one gets older, one becomes less enthusiastic about moving absolutely anywhere. It was almost as though each morning bike ride and glance to my left allowed me a window into my future, envisioning how my life would unfold in each UHaul destination.
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| The magical Yuba River in the Sierra Nevada Foothills |
Where Will I Move Next? Look at the UHaul Truck.
When I was 22 and 23, I lived in what is known as “Gold Country” in California, a region that seemed unique due to its location in the Sierra Nevada Foothills. California’s diversity in relation to elevation gradient shocked me--I could drive one hour over Donner Pass to Lake Tahoe and spend the day waist deep in powdery snow, ideal for snowshoes or Nordic skis, and the next day, drive an hour toward the Central Valley and hike with a t-shirt in intense sunlight, gazing at waterfalls roaring with the snowmelt from higher grounds. I was doing AmeriCorps, a national service program, and I spent a year working for a national river nonprofit group, exploring Sierra Nevada meadows for field work and spending all of my free time with the other AmeriCorps members, gallivanting around the Sierra. I often biked to work, a hilly route from Grass Valley to Nevada City that enlivened my senses and made my legs remember themselves after a day sitting in the office. My bike commute started by taking me directly past a UHaul dealership. Toward the end of my AmeriCorps year, I was uncertain about my future, searching for jobs, and trying to figure out what came next. Often I would whiz by the UHaul lot, catching speed on the slight downhill, and glance daringly at the nearest UHaul truck, studying its advertised destination painted on the side. As time went on and my employment end date trudged closer, I became increasingly attentive to the UHaul trucks, convinced that these rentals would hold some type of glimpse to my future. Coos Bay, Oregon. St. Joseph, Missouri. Indianapolis, Indiana. Each destination offered itself to me with its attractive illustration an iconic event or site to see. Looking back, I can see how open to opportunity I was, and appreciate that--it seems as one gets older, one becomes less enthusiastic about moving absolutely anywhere. It was almost as though each morning bike ride and glance to my left allowed me a window into my future, envisioning how my life would unfold in each UHaul destination.
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| One of the countless places to explore in the Sierra |
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