3500 Miles: The End

I need to end this story.

We plummetted down the mountains for 40 miles into California. That was bad. It was beautiful, there were amazing views, deep blue lakes, and feet on brakes. M-N didn't look up the whole time, which was good, because out her side of the truck at certain points were major drop-offs. She, like the cat, might've dove under the seat.

We then pressed on through Sacramento, home of one of my college roommates and also where Governor Schwarzenegger works. After Sacramento we encountered a touch of wine country, also almond orchards. When we got within spitting distance (ok, for really good spitters) of SF, we stopped for the night at a hotel in Concord.

One thing I learned on my exploratory trip to SF: there are few hotels with parking in the city, none with parking for a truck and trailer. So we stayed at a massive Holiday Inn where a cotillion or something was going on with tons of well-dressed high schoolers and their parents. But it was big enough hotel to not hear that.

We walked to a local shopping center to eat dinner. They had a variety of nice restaurants, all with ridiculous waits to be seated, so we got ice cream at a Fuddrucker's and walked back to the hotel restaurant. We were the only customers, save for one lonely guy who we'd noticed driving up in a rental truck of his own.

That hotel was our introduction to vending machines with iPods, something we've since spotted elsewhere in the area. Considering how often I've known people to destroy vending machines to get a bag of chips or some M&M's, putting iPods in one seems misguided.

...

The next morning, yet another bright, clear day, we finally headed through Oakland, across the Bay Bridge, and arrived at our new apartment.

There, now I can begin writing about all the stuff that's been going on since.