f- t ' '
_- _ _—— ---
On the road again
Trip to California leads self-illumination
MARK BALDRIDGE is a
senior English major.
As the congress of the United
States busily posted the Ten
Commandments in public schools
and the Nebraska Unicameral debat
ed whether Creationism should be
taught in science classes, I was cross
ing my own Dead Sea, choking on
million-year-old dust in the great
nowhere of Nevada, ancient sea floor,
along Highway 50, the “Loneliest
Road in America.”
The sun, pinned to the sky,
seemed stationary as we raced it
westward in the lengthening days
before the Solstice, Laura and I, her
mother’s little Honda slouching
toward San Francisco.
Laura was going to interview for
jobs. I was on a mission of even
greater importance: to discover, in the
wilds of the Bay Area, the pinnacle of
God’s creation. I was stalking the per
fect burrito.
Little did I know what else the
fates had in store.
We’d had a rough time of it
already; breaking down in Ogallala
we’d learned first hand the contempt
in which Western Nebraskans hold
the Japanese automobile - a contempt
matched only by the bald antipathy
they feel for the Federal Government.
Patrick, the saintly tow truck dri
’ ver, had even regaled us in song:
“Cause I’m proud to be an
American, where at least they say I’m
free/ and I’m proud to fight die gov
ernment, who takes my rights from
me!”
Then there was the infection
along my gumline that boosted me
from the driver’s seat in Uinta, Utah.
A prescription of antibiotics eased my
increasing Ambesol addiction and we
hit the road again.
There were to be other tragedies,
large and small, not the least of which
was Laura’s stubborn insistence that
we sleep in separate motel beds or
that one of us take the floor.
(I retained at least enough of my
manhood to allow her one night on
the floor, herself, in Fallon, Nev., just
to see how she’d like it. She slept,
imperturbable, the sleep of the virtu
ous.)
Nevertheless, California would
open her golden gate to us; the fruit
inspector at the border throwing down
a bit of his stand-up routine and wav
ing us through.
And it seems like just minutes
later that we pulled into the parking
lot of the Best Western of San Jose
and collapsed on the bed (my turn on
the floor) consciousness fading with
the throb of the road in our heads.
The next day, Berkley, and the
, $200 burrito.
At that price (figuring in travel to
and from the restaurant) a burrito bet
ter be good. This one was heavenly
and came with a choice:
Avocado salsa, Pineapple salsa,
Macho salsa (hot), Strawberry salsa,
Mango salsa, et al. A paradise of
salsa, a whole salsa bar. I sat down
and tried them all, each more fantas
tic than the other, and when I was
done, I wiped my mouth on the nap
kins of contentedness, all the more
pleased to have eaten my prize in the
beautiful town of Berkley.
Berkley is like the cutest little
houses of Lincoln all pushed up
against the hillside - eccentric,
almost vertical gardens, endlessly
multiplied.
It feels like somebody’s home
town overrun with hippies and intel
lectuals and you cannot get a bad
salad or a mediocre burrito in all the
city limits, probably in the whole Bay
Area.
Californians eat well. Produce
there is fresh, plentiful and cheap.
You can hardly get food in Lincoln
for any price that compares to the reg
ular grub of low-end dives in Berkley,
if my experience is any indication.
Laura fell in love with this homey
burg, as I had, on first sight, and we
drove aimlessly for some time, day *
dreaming.
Fortunately for our reverie, hous
es and apartments do not usually dis
play their rental values in screaming
neon dollar signs and we were left to
imagine Berkley in peace.
San Francisco, the next day, was
another matter. Dirty, overdeveloped,
confusing and cold, its property val
ues seem etched m invisible numerals
above every block.
Yet this world class city retains an
echo of its former innocence. People
on the street are friendly and relaxed
enough to make you think you are in
a much smaller town, but the traffic
convinces otherwise.
With a million things to do and
see Laura and I spent an idle after
noon on Fisherman’s Wharf, pier 45,
with the other tourists. I put a penny
into a machine, which squashed it
without ceremony into an oblong
copper cameo of the Golden Gate
Bridge, a rollicking trolley pictured at
an improbable angle in the fore
ground.The rest of the time I wan
dered longingly among the exotic
musical instruments at Lark in the
Morning, a great place with a leg
endary catalog. What little cash I had
left was zipped safely in my money
belt and I was wise enough to leave it
there, fool that I am.
Then to dinner with mutual
friends, Mark and Melanie, former
Lincolnites, now confirmed San
Franciscans. Like all inhabitants of
great cities they were eager to seduce
us, to inspire in us, as visitors, the
love they feel for a place they are,
themselves, too busy to enjoy.
Sushi fresh from the Pacific piled
our table and we waded in with gusto
and chopsticks. Mark and Melanie, as
usual, tried to convince me I’d find
ready work in the area as a “content
provider” but I resisted pretty well
u
Laura was going to interview for jobs. I
was on a mission of even greater
' importance: to discover, in the wilds of the
Bay Area, the pinnacle of Gods creation. I
was stalking the perfect burrito.”
until...
(Here I have to break in and
explain: You ask a Californian what
they do for a living, they tell you and
you still don’t know. Right now, you
are reading content which I provided.
Get it? Not the most glorified term
for “writer” but there it is.)
... I bit down on something hard
in my otherwise squishylicious oyster.
I thought it was a tooth, at first. I
had half expected to lose a tooth
sometime this trip, antibiotics
notwithstanding. Marie saw me react
and also thought it was a tooth.
It was not a tooth.
And what it was changed every
thing for me, made me re-think the
stupid assumptions of my life and
really consider, for the first time, the
immense possibilities open to me.
I fished it out and held it up for
everyone to see:
It was a pearl.
Hosts: Dave & Jolene Queen
200 Ogden Rd. Lincoln, NE 68521
Call For Reservations:
SK 402-476-2282
Ml
JLCamp A Way
j LINCOLN, NEBRASKA
g» 5«
University of Nebraska
Office of Campus Recreation *
Outdoor Recreation - " It's what's tor summsrl
A. Adventure Challenge
Ropes Course
The Adventure Challenge
Ropes Course is located
near Milford, NE. Groups
use the course to improve
their communication, better
their working relationships,
and have a great time! To
schedule your group, con
tact Jon or Stephanie at
6. Indoor Climbing
Wall I
The Indoor Climbing Wall is
located in the Campus Rec
reation Center, court 5. A
1 safety class is required to
use the wall ($20) but there
after members have unlim
ited use of the wall. Classes
are scheduled throughout
the summer. Contact 472
3467 to register for the next
class!
C. Outdoor
Adventures Trips
The Outdoor Adventures Trip
Program offers outdoor recre
ation trips in Nebraska, the
U.S., and around the world.
Currently, there is an OA trip
in Australia. Atrip to Greenland
is planned for 2000. There is
still space on the Niobrara
Canoe trip July 9-11. Informa
tion session: 6/30,7pm, CRec.
Sign up deadline is July 6.
472-4777. ^
D. Outdoor Adventures
Rental Equipment
Outdoor Adventures Rental
Equipment (OARE) offers a
great variety of outdoor rec
reation equipment to rent.
Equipment includes: golf
clubs, tents, backpacks,
lanterns, canoes, and much
more. Location: east side of
the Campus Recreation
Center. 472-4777.
--N SUMMER EDITION ■ PXGEl)
