The next several years didn't involve the Toyota much because we had the extra cars. Our driveway and garage was full of a 1963 Chrysler, a Saab that was Dave's primary commuter vehicle, the Mercedes, and Toyota. Los Angeles just wasn't a good fit for a stick shift and no air conditioning. And weekend adventures in the mountain were farther away so we didn't go every weekend but enjoyed the mountain biking, rock climbing, and other things we could do that were nearby.
Stoney Point (rock climbing) was a 20 minute walk from our house and walking was much easier than trying to find a parking spot along a busy road. There were two mountain biking trails that were pretty easy to get to from our house without having to get in the car. If we wanted variety other trails were available within 30 minutes.
Time and distance is important on weekends if your daily commute is an hour or more. Quite honestly I didn't feel like getting back in the car on the weekend nor getting up particularly early if I didn't have to. That left skiing out because the good skiing was hours away. Mammoth Mountain was about 5 hours away. Big Bear was probably 3 or 4 hours. Mountain High was a little more than an hour but it was only good for night skiing since the snow was all man-made. I didn't enjoy night skiing very much because that often means skiing on ice. And even still, driving to Mountain High often meant driving there in the late afternoon and running the air conditioner.
Seems to me we did other things because Los Angeles has a lot to offer that is completely different than wandering around the outdoors. For the five years I lived in Los Angeles, the Toyota didn't get much use, except on the occasion where one of the other vehicles was down for repair. Or we needed to haul stuff. Once I remember exploring the backroads of the Los Padres National Forest in July. We may have been looking for a place to either camp or backpack or possibly just scouting for future trips. It was hot and a huge relief when we dropped back down to the ocean air near Ventura. Nature's air conditioning.
In the middle of those five years I had a complete change of heart about my career with the park service, particularly fighting fire. I was burned (ha ha) out on the politics of fire when all I wanted to do was something good. That's what happens when you become in charge of a program. All the fun that you remembered as a firefighter, just going out and doing your job and being appreciated for it by the community, was gone. Being in charge means having to take responsibility for decisions that you made that may affect the community. I didn't have the stomach for it. And transitioning to another field within the park service isn't that easy. Remember the part at Lava Beds where I wasn't qualified for the job I had been doing? Even though there would be a sharp learning curve for a short time to take on some kind of resource management job, the people who actually screen applications do not recognize the value of a good employee who has been in the system for many years.
I was far less patient back then. I turned my back on my park service career and went to grad school at UCLA and got a master's in Biology doing work in biogeochemical oceanography. Grad school is a transitional place best suited for people who don't know what they want to do right out of college. For a working person it can be a little demeaning though I give a lot of credit to this department at UCLA for raising the bar on professional expectations of the students. I was treated like an expert in my field with something to contribute. Still, grad school is temporary and there are still those pesky exams and graded presentations. That's what I didn't like. It's not like we aren't judged every day in our working life but somehow receiving a grade is somewhat stultifying.
One thing I found out about my particular degree is that I don't enjoy spending weeks and weeks on a ship. The crew and ship form a dysfunctional family for the length of the tour and there is all the drama, chaos, snitfits, temper tantrums, favoritism, bullying, and genuine affection for each other. Plus the isolation from the world. When I was on my research trip we were in the first war in Iraq. By the time I got back a couple months later, President Bush had declared victory and the war was over. So much happens and it doesn't matter whether you're paying attention or not, which is a lengthy subject in itself.
After grad school I started applying for jobs back up here in Washington. I had given Los Angeles five years and Dave agreed that we could try somewhere else. A few months later in August of 2005 I got a job with the Skagit County Health Department as a microbiologist in their water quality laboratory. We easily sold our house in Los Angeles for a lot more than we paid for it and bought a 10-acre farm in the Skagit Valley that had a restored Victorian house and a 2-acre vineyard. Sounds idyllic, yes?
The cats were loaded into the Toyota. I had forgotten my previous moving experiences with them and put them in the front with me. And had to listen to them meow the entire time. The first night we drove all the way up to southern Oregon where Dave's sister lives. We stayed in a dark motel that allowed cats. Dave had a later start because he waited for the movers to finish loading at the house. Still, he arrived by midnight then made a short visit to his sister the next day. I got on the road early because I needed to get up to the boarding facility before it closed. The cats were staying there until the movers unloaded all our furniture for us and southern Oregon is still a very long way from northern Washington.
Well, the farm was pretty neat but a working farm for two working people, especially for Dave who was commuting to Seattle is difficult to say the least. Dave worked very hard in the vineyard. I put up fences, trimmed blackberries, mowed the one-acre lawn by hand. I'm not sure either one of us was having any fun at all.
I'd forgotten why Washington was calling me back. All those mountains begging to be explored within a couple hours of driving. I wanted to spend less time on the farm and more in the mountains. Always in the mountains. Dave and I definitely weren't having much fun together. It was very clear that we wanted different things and the responsibility was just too much. If you've followed my blog at all, it is reasonable to judge me as a fun hog. Fun sow? The fewer responsibilities the better because I do not like to be tied to chores.
We faced the music, parted amicably in 2006 and have remained friends and fellow admirers. He moved back to southern California where he is happiest, met his wife and now has a one-year old daughter. Perfect for him.
Unfortunately in 2007 the economy crashed, the housing market crashed and it took forever for us to sell the house, eventually at a loss. Dave made a smart move going to back to SoCal because his job with WAMU in Seattle disappeared. Some parts of the story just fix themselves not because of any foresight but because of pure luck, from following your heart? That's another philosophical subject for another time.
Me? Well, I took an avalanche safety course in November of 2006 through the Everett Mountaineers. There were about 50 men and 5 women, two of which I had arm-twisted into coming with me. I may be exaggerating on the population dynamics of the class but the point is that the number of men were overwhelming. I did the most logical thing: ignored all of them. Besides I was not looking for romance. I wanted education and information so I could go in the mountains safely in the winter.
Then one of the instructors organized a backcountry ski early in January of 2007. I had to get up at 4:00 in order to meet everyone at the park n ride in Lynnwood. By then I had bought a house in Anacortes, which was a good 25 minutes even to the freeway in Mounta Vernon. At the park n ride I didn't know anyone besides the grizzle-bearded instructor, Lee. The park n ride was huge but easy to notice a bustle of activity at 6:00 a.m. on a Saturday.
Everyone seemed to be milling around a large red Ford truck. The instructor recognized me and made introductions because I was pretty much the only newcomer and definitely the only female. I found out that the driver of the red Ford was Randy and he had assisted in the avalanche course as he had taken it a few years prior. Lee took the priority seat, shotgun and I got in the backseat with Jay (another newcomer) and Mike who was Lee's friend.
End of Part 5 (I know, I know, just when it's getting promising again!)