Okay okay, Denise tells me I must continue this story. Thanks to those of you who encourage me to write it.
First of all, I want to mention that the point of all this was that for whatever reason that Toyota gave me freedom in a way I had never experienced before. In many ways it was symbolic. The vehicle was reliable, rugged, and allowed me to take it anywhere, literally anywhere I wanted to go. I had never had anything like that. Undoubtedly like most people, I thought I was trapped by convention and other people's expectations. It wasn't so and having the Toyota helped me explore the adventurous side of me, which turns out is most of me. Yet it's a responsible choice in a vehicle and I am nothing if not responsible.
Now, continuing with late summer of 1998. Seems to me I had some sort of temporary housing with my Sister Cat (who was adopted as an 8-week old kitten from a neighbor in Tule Lake) until I bought my first house. Many of us who worked for Redwood National Park lived in either Arcata (home of Humboldt State) or McKinleyville and commuted to Orick where our ramshackle trailer park offices were and the herds of elk roamed outside our windows.
We formed an unlikely carpool by parking on a side road next to the golf course at 6:15 a.m. and whoever had the most room drove the scenic route on Hwy 101 north to Orick. The route passed through ancient redwoods, by the beach, and through an elk migration route. Foggy morning required all eyeballs available to watch for a herd of elk that might be crossing the road.
On some mornings it was only me and one other person. I'd drive that day. One day like that in late 1999 or early 2000 a co-worker and I were on our way back to McKinleyville when I noticed the temperature guage of my truck red-lining. There was nowhere to stop to check the radiator because that stretch of Hwy 101 is quite remote. Well I could check but I couldn't do anything about it except hope for the best. I turned up the heat full blast, slowed down and hoped for the best. We made it back to McKinleyville.
When my truck cooled down I asked one of my neighbors for help diagnosing the problem. He helped me figure out that the thermostat was bad. I didn't have much money then so with his help replaced it and got further advice to flush the radiator. Problem solved. That was the first problem with the Toyota that was out of the ordinary. However, it didn't leave me stranded.
I lived in McKinleyville for 2 years. During that 2 years David and I couldn't make it work any longer after having spent 6 years sort of but not really together. Together in the sense that we were a couple but not together in the sense that we ever shared a geographical area except for the brief time I was in Florida and a slightly longer time we shared a house in Tule Lake. I suppose I got tired of feeling like the relationship was going nowhere although I couldn't honestly say where I wanted it to go.
It was clear that David was going to stay in Tule Lake for the forseeable future and I had the better job with the better pay on the coast. I suppose he said it all when he said he wouldn't fight fire on the coast because there were no fires to fight. Nevermind that most firefighters on the coast spend all summer fighting fires elsewhere then did prescribed burning the shoulder seasons. I just didn't feel like reasoning with him anymore when the logic seemed obvious to me. That was the fall of 1999.
Since those of us at Redwood National Park were on a 4 day 10-hour workday schedule I always had three day weekends, unless I was on a fire. To say that I spent my weekends idly would be a flat-out lie. I am absolutely not a liar. I spent a lot of time exploring the coast, the Smith River area, thinking about the Marble Mountains, the Trinity Mountain — remember I was often out on fires all summer so didn't see much of the mountains except under a cloud of smoke.
In the winter, I thought about learning to ski at Mt. Shasta but wasn't particularly successful so stuck to cross country skiing at Lassen in the big forests, under the disapproving eye of the rangers when I went by myself. I signed the trail registers and stuck to terrain I was comfortable with so stop worrying already! And look, I'm still here to tell the story.
A long time ago my mother and I made the arrangement that I wouldn't tell her about my adventures until I returned safely. That made checking in with anyone difficult but I had my friend Wanda and if she wasn't available my friend Terri was always available by a phone call even if she wasn't in the same state.
Shortly the New Millenium was about to happen. While most people spent a lot of time worrying and preparing for some kind of cataclysmic end, I made plans with my friends to go to Reno. Some of my friends were from the Umpqua National Forest. Some were from the Whiskeytown Prescribed Fire Crew. And one person, Ruth, was the one who got the job I wanted at Lava Beds. The Toyoto took Ruth and I to Reno where we had gotten a good deal on one of the last rooms in town. Oh what fun we had! Dressing up, drinking too much, smoking cigars and envying all the people who had someone to kiss when the clock struck midnight. Ruth and I had to share a bed in an awful motel but we weren't about to kiss. We did hug though.
I also worked with a fun gal named Kathryn W. She was arranging a ski trip with her brother and brother in law who both lived in southern California and invited me along. Well, her brother Dave was single and my age. To say that we hit it off immediately would be an understatement. We really hit it off. And what fun we had! That was January of 2000 but I was not excited about another long-distance relationship.
Sometimes things work in a direction no matter what. I'd never really felt like fate had much of an influence on my life but this time it was nothing short of a miracle. I mean, what is a wildland firefighter going to do in southern California? And Dave was a big-city corporate guy. Even Eureka, the county seat of Humboldt County wasn't big enough. Shortly, a job that would be a promotion for me opened up at Santa Monica Mountains National Recreation Area. They were having a hard time filling the position. I applied, negotiated and got the job. I was moving to southern California! My path couldn't have been more clear.
By then I had adopted another cat, Lucy, to keep Sister company because I was gone a lot between going out on fires then being gone on some adventure or another on weekends. On a sunny day in early May of 2000 I was waiting for the movers to finish packing my stuff so I could get in my Toyota with two complaining kitties and start on the long drive to southern California. What I remember most about that day is that the park service had lit a prescribed fire in Los Alamos, New Mexico and it had gotten out of control. I knew right then that my life would change and I couldn't turn around and pretend that I had not taken a job with much more risk and responsibility. You'd think I would've learned about going to completely unfamiliar places but I had confidence that I'd figure it out.
End of Part 3