The time has come.

It's here. My departure date.

I leave in 16 hours for Dublin for an undetermined amount of time. I have a friend who will pick me up at the airport and a place to stay until I can find my own housing. Other than that, I have no idea what I'm going to do, but it may go something like this (in no particular order): Find a place to live. Find a job. Work. Save money. Ride my bike. Race. Have fun.

As for material possessions, I am down to 1 bike box containing my beloved 1987/88 pink & yellow Dave Scott Centurion, nurturingly referred to as "Bikie," 2 suitcases, 1 carry-on, and 1 personal item. Plus laptop.

But before I go, I have to go sew a gaping hole in the butt of my jeans.

***

I feel as if I'm standing on the edge of a precipice. Behind me, the land I know is flat and well-traveled. Below me, I feel the wind whip through my hair as I peer down into the black unknown, my imminent future.
This is what you are supposed to do, the wind says. Trust yourself, it echoes as I look up to the sky to watch the wind join the silver-stained clouds.

...I shot skeet.

Arrive in East Tennessee. Check.

Marvel at sister's pregnant belly. Check.

Change into bathing suits and lounge around in pool. Check.

Shoot skeet. Check.

Hit skeet on first try shooting with "the baby's" rifle. Check.

Exclaim that you can't believe your brother-in-law bought "the baby" a rifle, then remember that you're in East Tennessee. Check check.

Sister says, "We're gonna take the dog for a walk...using the Rhino. You'll see why soon."
Made note of German short-haired Pointer's 3 speeds:
1-Sleeping.
2-Running.
3-Running on crack.
Check.

Pick fresh corn, ocra and tomatoes for dinner. Check.

Point and yell, "Eww! Big bug!" Then run away from garden like a scared city girl would. *Ahem* Check.

Have a wonderful time with your big sister in her gorgeous log cabin, I mean mansion, before heading to Europe. Definite check.

...I drove 2635.5 miles.

Oregon: Gorgeous.
Idaho: Deserted.
Utah: Stunning.
Colorado: Steep.
Kansas: Blank.
Missouri: Hot.
Illinois: I-57 South.
Kentucky: Horses.
Tennessee: Hills.

Number of days of driving: 4.
Number of times I was told to F-off: 1. Parachute, CO.
Number of times I told someone else to F-off: 5..maybe 7...or 10.
Number of times I was flicked off: 3.
Number of times someone waved as I let them merge in front of me: 1.
Number of times a trucker honked in appreciation: 2.
Number of times I got gas: 7.
Number of This American Life episodes I listened to: 10.
Number of times I started a conversation with my houseplant to stay awake: 4.
Number of road kill counted: 12.
Most interesting: Porcupine, possibly a hedgehog.
Number of accidents seen: 1. Surprisingly.
Number of times I hit stand-still traffic: 1. Castle Rock, CO. 10:30PM.
Number of times I admit to text messaging while driving: 50.
Number of books on tape listened to: 1.5, Zodiac and The Kite Runner.
Number of Wendy's Chocolate Frosty consumed: 2.
Number of 1 L mineral waters consumed: 5.
Amount of trail mix consumed: 2.63 lbs.
Best Sunset: Idaho.
Runner-up Sunset: Kansas.
Worst drivers: Salt Lake City.

Additional Comments:
Super8 Motel is pretty super.
I drive too slow for 97% of Americans.
I judge you based on your license plate.

...I sold all of my furniture.

Goodbye, Portland. You will be missed.