So Kate and I have been in California for a little more than a week. We took 13 days to cross the United States. We got in the car and started off at 1 m.p.h. It took forever to get out of Maine. When we finally finished packing and moved out of Bar Harbor, we headed down to Portland and moved out again, packing all the stuff that we had stored at Kate's mom's house. After a few days we were really on the road (to Boston where we stopped again). Our route brought us through upper NY State, Detroit, Chicago, Nebraska, and Colorado. It took us a long time to get up to 5 m.p.h., around Schenectady, NY. We chugged through the wasteland of Detroit's industrial district, admiring colorful fumes and steams emanating from countless stacks and chimneys. Like a slow moving freight train, we gradually built up steam; we were going 27 through Chicago, and 45 through Iowa. In Nebraska we were doing 70 and what with the road being dirt and the fact we were pulling a trailer it was hard to slow down enough to see the green mailbox at the end of the driveway to the Shogrens. We sped past the Great Salt Lake and through the Great Basin at 118 and by the time we were in Reno, we were doing 150! We thought we saw a man that looked like Johnny Cash trying to hitch a ride but our car was too full and we were going too fast to stop. It was a harrowing ride over the mountain passes of Northern California, avoiding black bears, gigantic redwood trees, and pot-smoking hippies, the trailer swinging from side to side and skidding near the brink of sheer cliffs with two hundred foot drops like a runaway wagon from the 1800s. I believe our top speed was 163. When I thought things couldn't get any worse, there was a gigantic earthquake - a 7.8 on the Richter scale. The road started crumbling and the ominous clay hillsides looming over our car on each side threatened to give up the ghost and slide into the valley, crushing us into oblivion. Eureka! Kate shouted, as we passed a sign that said 'Eureka 15 mi.' With relief, we pulled onto Highway 101 towards Arcata, oblivious of the damp, cool fog that covers everything and the fact that the ocean is on the wrong side.