dream: a field of machines that no longer work. dead, quiet cars, silent in the desert breeze. undefinable metal parts going nowhere. old wood sinking into the warm earth, so slowly it seems completely still.
technology, when it works, carries you along as if weightless on the back of a great winged bird: your chores are done for you, your destinations are nearer, death is further, and your clothes are cleaner. the drudgery of the everyday is washed away and you are free to explore the newness of things not yet done.
but when that technology wears out, breaks down, and tips you upside the head, all those magical devices suddenly appear as they really are: lifeless hunks of processed materials, grey husks, smelling of death.
take, for instance, my vw bug, 'the silver-winged beetle,' as drue calls it. my usually-glorious chariot escorted me around the bay area for the last year, and attempted to carry me east of the sierras for a family reunion, the first stop on my trip.
however, the bug now sits in a suburban driveway in carson city, nevada, with a large puddle of black oil collecting on the cement under the engine.
to my fairly unmechanical (amechanical?) eye, the underside of the car looks suspiciously minimal, with some loose metal sheets clanking around holes where bolts used to be. i probably left this missing piece somewhere on donner pass (elev. seven thousand odd feet) where, in the days before volkswagens, the surviving members of the starving donner party ate their unluckily dead traveling partners.
and now my bug seems also to be unluckily dead. everyone to whom i describe the symptoms tends to wince and grimace whenever i get to the part where i describe the severe loss of power in yuba city, the horrible clanking sound coming over donner pass, and the big puddle of oil in carson city. so i don't hold much hope of piloting the bug around the rockies and the sawtooths and the cascades and the trinity alps, since i just barely got over the sierras.
so instead of my beetle & i coasting the asphalt of the west, i'll take advantage of other forms of transport, that hopefully don't involve me behind a wheel controlling a large pile of machinery i don't understand.
first, i've got a reservation on tomorrow's green tortoise bus to seattle, where i'll meet up with my friends graham & michelle, and explore that northwestern city of rain and grunge. then, to portland. and if i can conquer my high altitude sickness, i'll try the train across oregon, montana, and idaho, over to boulder, colorado.