The shady details and lack of organization are comical and my mother wouldn't be proud of me for them, but I loved it.
Our ride to San Francisco was a nice man named Arturo from Mexico. Convo recap of Thursday, AKA Day of Takeoff--
Holly: Our ride's going to pick me up first, then you, then Jared.
Lilia: Cool. Where's he at?
Holly: Uh... crossing the Mexican border. Murrrr
Interestingly enough, I didn't even realize this was odd until a few hours later, a little past LA. We sang every catchy Beatles, Bob Dylan, Queen, and Spice Girls song on the way up and got dropped off at a train station near The City on a gorgeous August day.
Jared's amazingly sweet mother picked us up and we ate at a rad organic Mexican food restaurant called Gracias Madre in the Mission District (kudos Jared). We spent the night at his fam's place where we found an epically clear patch of sky to watch the Perseid meteor shower, then left for the CSSC leadership retreat in Napa.
Once there among all of those positive and inspirational people, we shared ideas and discussed strategies to educate our fellow students about Prop 23 and the negative impact it would have on California's economy/move toward clean energy.
More in a nutshell: great organic and vegan food, learning, connecting with each other, Power Vote ed from Holly/Zen/Pam, laughter, more watching of the Perseids, random accidental trespassing into a toxic wasteland, the Hokey Pokey, puzzles, sharing of feelings, rapping, apple crumble, henna, and gittin hyphy. As usual.
After all the haze and beauty of it, the San Diego Crew still had no ride home and no prospects after plan A and B failed. I got in Pam's car which was going to SLO, hoped for the best, avoided dwelling on the fact that I had next to no money, and tried to shimmy my way as far south as possible. A little past Napa and a couple more failed attempts at finding a ride later, we found a spot in another Craigslist car, celebrated with some E-40 to be festive as we drove through the Bay, and I got my ass on the Bart to Union City Station to meet my ride, beezy.
Hours later, I took the wheel from my tired driver, waited until she fell asleep, then gunned that shit from LA to SD in about an hour and a half. Surprisingly, I still saw the remnants of the Perseids even through the lights and clouds, and it served as a lovely reminder of the nights which had passed. After getting to my house and hopping out of the car slash into bed to gear up for an 11-hr work shift, I realized that I essentially hitchhiked my way up and down the California coast for fifty bucks. As sketch as the details might sound at first, and as little sleep as I had, I honestly can't wait to do it again.
The weekend brought my attention to the constant flow of life and the beautiful way in which it resists control only to lead me to something better than I could ever initially imagine. I can't wait to learn and educate more about Power Vote, Prop 23, and refreshingly unreliable yet cheap travel.
