There and Back Again
Everything that has a beginning must have an end.
We were looking forward to a few things:
Being reunited with our Django and Scamper
Being reunited with Numa
Having access to a hot shower
Having access to a refrigerator
We were NOT looking forward to the 27 hour drive back to Denver or returning to work.
So it goes.
This post was a joint effort.
We spent a few days isolating in a cabin in a state park near the southern border of New York, which was wonderful as it allowed us to visit Watkins and Enfield Glens in New York at the peak of fall foliage.
As usual, we hit the trails, heading to Watkins Glen first.
We spent some time walking through the gorge, myself stopping every 30 feet to take another shot, and Vitali dutifully waiting and handling the tripod.
Watkins Glen was spectacular.
There were a lot of people visiting the glen but they didn't get in the way too badly...
Afterwards we visited our friend in Skaneateles, a picture perfect town in upstate New York.
Then we visited Enfield Glen, reveling in the golden warmth of the last days of summer.
Gorgeous scenery abound.
We expressed ourselves through ritual light painting...
And returned to my Dad's house, eager to give our cats big hugs!
Unlike the first 6 months of absence from our cat's lives, whereupon our return was met with some initial confusion on who we were -- Scamper and Django seemed to know this time that we would be back for them and greeted us with the old haggard 'meow' and cold shoulder, respectively. Eventually Django's excitement overcame how upset he was and he came bounding out to cuddle with us aggressively.
After reuniting with the other half of our family -- I had one last item on my list -- to photograph the Falls Trail at Ricketts Glen, in all of autumn's splendor.
It took all day, and we finished just before sunset, but we did it finish it. The Falls Trail has 14 named waterfalls and countless unnamed...
I photographed every single fall, some shots turning out better than others.
We began packing up the flotsam of objects accumulated during our travels, preparing to take everything, and everyone, home. Goodbye home!
Somehow we had accumulated quite a few things, more than would fit into Numa. One of the items we had picked up was a 1960's Lane hope chest, purchased from a gentleman on craigslist near my Dad's house for a mere $50. This was one of the items that I really wanted to take back, and it was large enough to cause Vitali quite a bit of consternation on would it all fit.
No matter.
We packed Numa to approximately 90% full by volume and headed down to our friend's house in Maryland to visit one last time before going home. We went to the grocery store one morning while there and noticed that Numa began making some strange (but not so strange, because it had happened so often before) noises. Then she threw an engine malfunction.
We were able to drive back to our friend's house but were faced with an uncomfortable dilemma -- do we attempt to drive Numa back to Colorado over 1,600 miles or should we try to figure out an alternative plan?
We drove Numa down to a Ford dealership nearby who told us we wouldn't be able to leave the car there while they waited several months for the parts. Great.
So we worked out to drive the car back up to my Dad's house, take it to a dealership there, and leave it basically in possession of my Dad until the part came in. We would rent a larger vehicle and drive it back across the country, hopefully large enough to fit all of our stuff.
And so we did just that. We were going home, but Numa wasn't.
One.
Part Two: A tale of three.
I passed three days in the car mostly being a passenger princess and editing the thousands of photos I had left to edit. We arrived in Denver much faster than I expected. I guess we were well seasoned in waiting.
We had shitty move-in details and couldn't find the lockbox that contained the new keys to our home because the management company did not specify that there were multiple entrances with multiple lockboxes. While we still had Django and Scamper in the car!
We eventually found it and took a look at our new place. A two story studio loft with lots of natural light. Although small, at 620 SF, it was still much larger than we were used to, and we reveled in our new abilities to keep things cold and water hot.
The day after arriving back in Denver, my cell phone threw a boot error and seemed to be totally bricked!
Two.
I was distraught because I had written all of the notes about what we had done on the last few legs of the trip -- The Faroes, Iceland. And it seemed to be totally lost. We kept it around for awhile, trying various techniques to revive it. About a week after my cell phone died I got the notification that there was a free sample waiting on the sample website I'm a member of -- a free google pixel 7. Exactly what I needed -- I couldn't believe it!
And then -- about a week later the graphics card in my laptop failed! And of course we had limited money to replace it.
Three!
Vitali ended up buying another card for me and replaced it, and thankfully the rest of the laptop was fine.
Although for my old cell phone it seemed that all hope was lost until Vitali decided perhaps he could melt the motherboard a little bit in the oven like he had done with a past macbook, to maybe melt the solder inside and fix it.
He removed the board and stuck it in the oven.
And it WORKED! I couldn't believe it. I quickly emailed myself everything I had and breathed a sigh of relief.
When we got back we also had to retrieve our shit from the storage unit, which ended up being a little overwhelming.
Over the course of the next few weeks we shed about 30% of what we had in the storage unit (I wish we would have had the ability to do this before we had left, but of course, we had to go through the trip first in order to gain that ability). Over the next few months we got rid of another 30%. Wonderfully freeing. Having very little taught us the value of not being encumbered by possessions.
We spent some time emotionally preparing for the return to reality through aggressive relaxation and copious video gaming.
Eventually we figured we would need to go get Numa after learning the issues she was having seemed to resolve itself... So we flew back to PA to pick up Numa and chance driving her all the way back.
We did, and she made it! She's still okay although the TCM is likely failing again... good thing she's still under warranty!
While we were gone, some asshole got into our secured parking garage, cut the two locks on our storage unit, and stole Vitali's bike. They left mine...
Four! (Bonus!)
We decided that we should take one last trip before I went back to work, to ceremonially end our journey. And so we planned two nights in Moab, where we had begun our trip what felt like so long ago. It was fitting that it was winter, reflecting the winter of our despair.
Here we were, standing at the the same place that we had began our journey, filled with emotions, trying to grasp and understand how all this time had gone by.
We were the same, but also, so much different. So many miles traveled, so many places visited, so many amazing experiences lived, and yet somehow there was this feeling that we could have done more, enjoyed it more, cherished every moment more.
We were the same, but so much different.
Perhaps the best comparison to the way that we felt was when a house cat that has never been outside gets out into the wild, and gets to explore the vast green grass and warm sun rays for the first time; having to go back into the house and stay there is devastating, and will never quite be the same as it was before, and the cat will always want to escape back out, into the wild.
There we were -- like two cats that have tasted the unlimited milk saucer of freedom and wild catnip, and now -- we were told to get back into the house and to stay there indefinitely.
Right then we decided that we will escape again and will be back out in the wild once again, free from any boundaries -- and the time will come before we know it.
Everything that has a beginning must have an end.
We crossed the Rockies heading west for the final time, got into the Moab area around 2pm, and checked in to our hotel. The room was nice and the whole place was very quiet as it was the off season.
We wanted to see the sun set at the arches so we got back into our car and went to the park.
The entry to Arches National Park is perhaps the most impressive entry of all national parks. There is a long and steep road that leads up up and up, and after some time you get to see the magnificent and sublime red stone walls that go up vertically several hundred feet. The weather was excellent and the sky had very few clouds, which allowed the sun to give the red rocks an even deeper hue. The juxtaposition of some lingering snow and the color of the formations was amazing.
We parked our car near the trailhead to the window arches and walked up the trail.
We were at the same place where it had all begun and everything looked the same -- but also so much different than two years ago.
We were the same, but so much different.
We climbed to the big window and sat down looking at the beautiful sunset with amazing colors of the rock reflecting all around us.
The reds slowly turned to pinks and then to blues and purples as dusk fell.
After some time, it began to get dark and we decided to go back to our hotel and rest for tomorrow's adventure. The plan was to get some hiking in and see more of the majestic rock formations.
In the background, I had been looking for a new job and hoping if possible, to avoid going back into architecture. Before our trip to Moab, I had had 3 interviews for a new job and all 3 interviews had gone very well. I was expecting to get 3 offers during our stay in Moab -- and it was just like when I got offers for college, back in 2006, when I was speaking to colleges about scholarships, I also had 3 offers in hand.
As was with colleges, the same happened here. I knew which offer I would be taking, therefore I had to make some difficult phone calls after. The first feeling was great and very uplifting; however, very quickly the reality of going back to the office and spending 8 hours under fluorescent lights started to dawn on me. I promised to give it a fighting chance, maybe it would be different from architecture -- maybe I would not have negative feelings around it? I accepted a position at a company that does concrete work and my new role would be a swimming pool designer.
Using the same software, revit and CAD, to design and draft pools and spas sounded much better than going back to architecture and drawing window sills and door jambs. Up to today I am still here and enjoying working for my firm -- the people are super nice and all of my coworkers are amazing to work with.
We woke up the next morning and decided to do some hiking and enjoy the beautiful day. It was sunny and the temp was to be in the 70’s. During our hike the mood and feelings were strong, some tears, and some sadness.
Even though we had never hiked this trail before, our feet hit the path with comforting familiarity.
Our destination gradually approached.
Ring Arch was delicate and like the ocean surf.
We headed towards another feature, the Tunnel.
In the evening we went to another spot to watch the sun set, one last time.
On the final morning, we drove down to Islands in the Sky to watch the sun rise over the magnificent Canyonlands.
We hopped onto a rock covered in snow and both felt the same strong urge to pitch ourselves over the edge. The call of the abyss became so strong that we had to get off the rock.
We watched as the sun kissed the tops of the rocks and slowly illuminated the canyons.
We left, and headed back towards Denver.
The end of this tale; written 10 months later, flying from Tokyo Haneda to Los Angeles, together, somewhere over the Pacific. - Leandra and Vitali
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