It's a drive I've made at least a thousand times, back and forth from my home in Portland to my parent's house in Bend. When you make a drive that many times you tend to blank out long stretches of it, taking for granted the majestic rise of Mt. Hood, the lush green of the forest and its stark contrast with the high desert on the east side, and the way that Smith Rocks looks like a giant sleeping dragon when you approach it from the north. But occasionally something happens to wake you from your auto-pilot-induced daydreams.
That's how today's drive was. As Thea and I started out in this crisp fall morning we noticed something different. Something that seemed to override the urge to just be home; something that wakened the senses to a change coming; something fresh and new and exciting. So many times we've made that drive with the stereo loud enough to drown out the roar of the Jeep's 33" tires, me singing along with whatever my trusty iPod chose to play, her curled against the back of my seat and sleeping peacefully. Was it that first sniff of winter coming, the precursor of the cold that is more sensed than felt? Or maybe it was the turning of the leaves, their colors ranging from a pale yellow to fire red that stands out all the more for the contrast of the deep green of the pines you find the higher you climb. Or perhaps it was simply the excitement of a plan. Not just my plan, my dream of paying off the house and quitting my job to travel around North America, but also my brother's plan. Over the weekend I decided to risk a portion of my future on his and invest some cash into his custom bike business.
Things are happening, changing, taking shape, and I can smell it on the wind as surely as I can smell the coming snows.
