L.A. Trip

Photos:
http://www.eateggs.com/photos/05.01.14.los.angeles/

Day 4 – January 2, 2005
In all of Cheyenne, I have only one shoe. I have another shoe, too, but that’s about 350 miles from here, along the Utah-Wyoming border. Sad.

Anyhow. Things are over and done. We switched off drivers, and eventually arrived in Cheyenne at about 3:00PM. I’m not sure if the whole driving through the night thing is something I’d readily recommend, but we made it just the same. Poor Sean– I can only imagine the hell his life is right now

Day 3 – January 1, 2005
Sean’s dad found out that when Sean said a LAN party he really meant a NLA (in L.A.) party. But more on that later.

Today was good—probably really good. We left Chris & Allison’s at around 11:30 (ah—sleeping in, hurray!) and drove to U.S.C. to take a walking tour of the campus for Sean’s sake. We wandered around the campus for all of 45 minutes before meandering our way back to the car. Our visit likely would have been a little longer if not for it being New Year’s Day and consequently everything was closed down. Regardless, it’s a beautiful campus, even in the heart of winter. It seems like it would form such a great academic environment, and I can only imagine that the social life would be kicking.

Leaving U.S.C. we drove to the Santa Monica pier. I should probably take a moment or two to put in a word about my driving, or more specifically my navigating. I’ve always prided myself on having a reasonably good sense of direction. This pride, however, has been gradually undermined and disintegrated over the last six months. The last two days, however, have finally gone the last step in dispelling any notions that I’m a navigational genius; I’m not. Sean started counting my number of U-turns for the day. I believe my total for the day was something to the effect of nine or ten, which for a single 12 hour period is rather impressive. All in all, we probably spent a grand total of two hours traveling in or back from the wrong direction today—the worst of which was probably the twenty miles we drove south on the 605 before I realized that we were south-bound, not north-bound. Over the course of the trip, however, it has yet to fail that when there’s a choice between left and right I’ve always chosen the wrong direction. It’s been painful to trace back and say “well, now we’re back to where we were thirty minutes ago—two minutes away from our destination” and I believe I’ve said that no less than three times in the last two days. So sue me. Sure, I could have looked at the map, but there’s nothing like the sensation of knowing that my sense of direction sucks. Oh well. At least we got to see more of L.A. that way.

I digress. Having found a parking space right on the water’s edge, we rushed to the beach to see the ocean: a new sight for Sean. I think it’s fair to say he wasn’t disappointed. None of us were. The power and the beauty and the vastness of it… set against the tapering backdrop of the Santa Monica’s blue and navy hills, leading the eye to yellow unfathomable eternity, complemented by the muted roar of the water’s repeated attacks against the indignant sands… It’s nothing that words could describe, nor film could capture, nor art could render: it’s a sensation made fuller by it’s defiance of the poet and the artist.

Leaving the beach, we took another Mark’s-sense-of-direction-gone-wrong detour before eventually finding Santa Monica’s 3rd Street promenade: an affluent outdoor mall spanning about 8 blocks, filled with shops of all sorts. Dinner was P.F. Chang’s (as good as ever) followed by some amazing Italian White-Chocolate ice cream and another hour of meandering down the mall.

Our visit to L.A. and welcoming of 2005 was concluded by the walk down the beach from the pier (speaking of which, it’s been renovated and completely cleaned up in the last year since I last visited—it’s really quite a nice attraction now, including a shiny new roller coaster and coffee-shop) to the car. We took off our shoes and each walked along the beach in the near-darkness of an L.A. night, the waves rushing in and over our feet and falling back out to sea. Again, the sensation was beyond words. All I can is that I’m grateful for it—perhaps one of the best moments since I last walked the Coney Island beach.

I write this as we drive through the night back to Cheyenne. Mark’s driving (after a total of 1,700 miles I relinquished the wheel with the hopes of sleeping) and Sean’s asleep in the back. Lord knows he’ll be needing that sleep soon enough—his dad, freaking out in a typical overprotective Rory manner, called mine today or perhaps yesterday, and found out from my dad that Sean was in L.A. with me. Needless to say, going home will be quite an experience for Sean. But all for the better—it’s these sort of experiences that make life beautiful and full. So as we drive down I-15 at 3:33AM, my thoughts float between the astounding darkness of Utah’s plains, the slight shake of my car due to the balance-weight that went flying off my rear-right tire earlier today, Hailey, Mark’s disconcertingly jerky driving style, the Garden State soundtrack playing quietly in the background, seashells, Sagar, home, Bozeman, the Beach…

And I know that life, thought it be absurd and cruel, is beautiful.

Day 2
Mark E
Today was a bit more successful than yesterday– thank god! We got up at a reasonable hour, and drove to L.A. through heavy rain. The rain, in retrospect, was wonderful– it was an incredible experience to see the white-covered hills of L.A. slowly revealed as the clouds lifted away. We drove down Sunset Blvd/Strip, through Beverly Hills and Bel Air, and eventually back to the ArcLight theatre where we saw The House of Flying Daggers, which I generally enjoyed very much.

The theatre itself is worth note: it was every bit a “theatre” in the true sense of the word. Even the seats were impressive– huge, comfortable seats set on spacious stadium seating. The consessions stand served hot dogs and lattes, and we had an “usher” who stayed and made sure people weren’t walking into the show late. The screen was HUGE– about the size of the Lincoln’s, and the sound was as crisp and sharp as the image on the screen. It was VERY impressive.

After the movie we drove around a bit and eventually ended up in the heart of Hollywood, where we had dinner and saw the sights: Grumann’s Chinese Theatre, the Walk of Fame, etc. Having seen the sights, we drove to Sean’s cousin’s house where she and her husband were kind enough to offer us hospitality for the night.

Day 1
Mark E
So this trip is a complete and total disaster. Well, I exaggerate slightly. We rolled out of Cheyenne at about 10:00, and drove steady until we hit traffic and terrible weather about fifty miles west of Denver. For the next two and a half hours, we crawled along I-70 at a pace of oh, say 30mph. Owing to the pleasant company (talking to Sean while Mark watched a movie on my laptop in the backseat) and the loud music, this passed reasonably pleasantly.

*knock*knock*
“Hello?”
“Is Mark* not here any more?” (*- of all names)
“No. We just rolled in about 6:00AM this morning.”
“Oh. Sorry.”

But back to our story. The rest of the drive to Vegas was relatively uneventful. After driving past it once, I finally brought us to our hotel, and attempted to check in. I was glad that my dad had encouraged me to make reservations, due to the fact that it seemed to be a very busy night. Unfortunately, after talking with a desk clerk for ten minutes or so, I began to wish that, when I had booked online, I had made reservations for December 30th, rather than January 30th. Yeah. And did I mention it was a very busy holiday? “There was no room in the inn.” So we went on our way, and experienced / enjoyed the strip. My goodness. It’s impossible to describe. Without actually being there and experience the lights and the glitter and the glamour and the smut and the sights and sounds, it would seem like a Hollywood creation: a dream.

So the conversation above? Yeah. At about 10:30AM some guy dressed in a trench coat and freaky army boots knocks on the door, apparently looking for his dealer named “Mark” who had been in the seedy hotel room before us. Yeah. About that hotel. It was the first hotel with vacancy that we came to after leaving Vegas, and since it was about 6:30 in the morning (and I had been driving since 10:00AM the morning before, with a two hour break to tour the Vegas strip) we decided to go with it. It was… an experience. Eek. Oh well.

Day 0
Mark E
In nine short hours we’ll be on our way to L.A. via Las Vegas. I, for one, am excited for the miles ahead. It’s going to be a geek trip, for sure. Here’s a quick run down of the equipment list:

Canon EOS Digital Rebel (Courtesy of Carter)

Canon Powershot G410

Sansung Digital Camcorder – MiniDV

Dell Laptop

2x 6 pack of Mountain Dew

Countless CDs packed full of MP3s

Sleeping bags

1997 Toyota Corolla (with a full tank of gas and a nasty rattle from the exhaust pipe)

And with that, a couple changes of clothing, we’ll be on our way. Updates and pictures as we go!