Page 26 - Susan Taylor

The Road to Cali

By Eva Starr

The day had come: December 4th, 2007 Cleveland, Ohio, to say overcome with fear, and my anxiety level was off the charts. Dear
good-bye to the life I had known. Nothing but sunny skies and God where is Aunt Bee?
ocean breezes and full steam ahead as I headed for San Diego
driving my Nissan with bits and pieces of my life - leaving every- What was happening to me? I am a pioneer, a leader, "Danger?
thing else behind. I laugh in the face of danger! Ha! Ha! Ha-ha!" What happened to
the young Simba I once was? I traced my steps back to the motel,
My travel plan was to drive and asked for directions again. I
south, cut across Indiana, found the liquor store, grabbed
Illinois, and St. Louis and the only bottle of wine I saw
then start heading west to decent enough to drink, wiped off
Taos, New Mexico, hoping to the mound of dust and headed
swing by the Grand Canyon, back to the motel.
and see Sedona …WRONG!
Never having traveled cross I went to the front desk and
country before I thought I’d asked for a wine opener. A motel
stay in these little neighbor- without a corkscrew! I headed
hood towns where there was back to my room and started to
an Aunt Bee who’d put me cry - why wasn’t I prepared? I ran
up for the night, feed me, a bath and called my step-mom.
and then I’d write about my I sobbed as I stared at the bottle
journey. of wine and cried “Sally I can’t
do this, I’m scared, all alone, and
First stop Greensville, Illinois, the weather is horrendous, also
where I stayed in a dive truck- I found out I’m petrified of semi’s
er motel ending up in ER the and the mountains!”
next morning with a severely
infected ingrown toenail the Her soft voice and calming
26 size of a golf ball. As I sat on manner tried to sooth my sobs
“Yes, you can do this. I know you
the gurney sobbing, I won-
dered if I’d made a mistake. can, you’re strong, courageous
The doctor didn’t know the and adventurous.” Her faith in
first thing about feet and sent me was unwavering, it was the
me off with antibiotics and thought of turning around and
painkillers, telling me to look going back that kept me moving
up a podiatrist in California. forward.
Where is Aunt Bee?
I cried myself to sleep; morn-
I arrived in St. Louis about the ing came quickly. The weather
same time the first bout of ice channel stated the ice storm had
storms hit the Mid-West: Not hit Kansas and was heading my
knowing which terrified me way; I needed to head for Okla-
more - traveling through the homa as quickly as possible. My
Ozarks, or side-by-side with plans for Taos had since dimin-
every eighteen-wheeler in ished, they had their own bout
the country. The people from with Father Winter and I didn’t
these parts call the Ozarks want any part of the snow, nor the
‘foothills’, that’s when I realized this little Ohioan had no idea what mountains. Heading toward Oklahoma I made it as far as Elk City,
a mountain was. It was getting darker, the storm worsened, the where I was stranded for three days with ice storm number two.
truckers got closer, and my handprint was etched in the leather of
the steering wheel. The days went on; I changed my route and headed toward Ro-
swell, NM, hoping I’d get abducted by strange-looking green men
“Gladys, (the name I gave my GPS) get me out of this mess, and who would take me to their leader. As the story goes that didn’t
to the nearest exit!” I pulled off the road to another motel with a happen. I finally made it, eleven days, nine motels, three thou-
restaurant attached, looking a little less sleazy than the last one. I sand miles and here I was in San Diego. It’s now been six plus
checked in, grabbed a burger, and ordered a glass of wine. “What years and Aunt Bee never did show up, but what a journey!
do you mean you don’t serve alcohol?” The waitress pointed yon-
der and said there was a liquor store just down the road. Eva Starr’s spiritual journey has taken her coast-to-coast digesting the
various schools of thought. Starr a transplant from Cleveland, OH cur-
I finished my burger and headed out. This can’t be happening (I rently writes for The Journey Magazine. When she’s not writing you’ll
thought), not only was I lost, but also the road had ended. There find her cooking for the homeless and the Veterans of North County. For
wasn’t a light, a house, or a human in sight. My mind raced back speaking engagements contact her at evastarr24@yahoo.com & visit her
new blog starronthefly.evastarr.com
to scenes from Deliverance. The night was black as coal, I was