I am sitting in a Midas Repair Shop Lobby.

I am listening to music on headphones, effectively drowning out the worst muzak I have ever heard. The muzak and the impending $240 bill have been making this a crummy afternoon.

Yesterday I drove the 600 miles from Portland to Davis. It was a smooth and easy trip, as smooth and easy as I can remember — definitely smoother and easier than my trip up to Portland two weeks ago. That one was split into two legs: the first was Davis to Lava Beds National Monument, where my friend Katie Eskra was working her last days as a Park Ranger. One drives north on I-5 like normal until Weed, and then shoots off to the Northeast on 97, all the way to the border between Oregon and California. The town at the border is called Dorris, and, according to the plaque in Dorris, it is home to the TALLEST FLAGPOLE WEST OF THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER. I had no way to independently verify this fact, but it was pretty tall, tall enough that it had to be wider at the base than at the top. So the Dorrisites just may be telling the truth.

Once through Dorris, you turn east and drive along a road that is called "Stateline Highway." This road is pretty darn straight, but not as straight as I thought it should be given its name. At Tule Lake (a lake), you turn south and drive 30 miles into the monument. I had previously considered monuments to be man-made and smaller than one square mile, but this monument is neither. And so it is super cool. I won't go into detail about everything that makes this place interesting, but in short: 1) the lava tube caves, which can be explored, and 2) the history – in 1873 there was a battle between the U.S. Army and a band of Modoc Indians, who where encamped in a natural lava fortress; in the 1910's and 20's the Government drained Tule Lake (it is now about a third of its original size) to created farmland; and during the Second World War one of the largest internment camps was maintained in the nearby town of Newell. Besides the area being interesting, it is also beautiful – lots of amazing vistas, interesting formations, and varied wildlife. I highly recommend a visit, especially if you have someone to see there, as I did.

I arrived in the late evening. Katie and her fellow rangers were having a barbecue, playing volleyball or horseshoes; it seemed like a very chill environment. Chilly, too — the elevation is about a mile, and with the sun going down, I had to put on a sweater. Later, five of us skinny-dipped in a hot tub. I did not know that park rangers had hot tubs. It was pleasant-pleasant.

On Saturday morning, after Katie went to her last day of work, I went to Skull Cave, so named because there were skulls found at the bottom. I can't remember whether they were human or animal skulls. Despite the name, Skull Cave was supposed to be the least scary of all the caves, because it is the largest, and hence the least claustrophobic. Last time I visited, I tried one of the smaller caves by myself, and got too scared; I couldn't go in past where one can still see the entrance. This time, I decided to make it easier on myself and pick the big cave with a high ceiling and hopefully a lot of light. It didn't really work. I was just as creeped out. However, I made it to the end of the cave, which was, of course, completely dark. I had two large flashlights, but the bulbs were kind of weak, and they did not chase away my irrational fears. At the end/bottom of the cave is an ice floor which extends back underneath the main tube; it is fenced off. That was okay — I never would have been able to make it, anyway. On the way back up, I really started freaking out, and starting running as fast as I could (safely) in the dark and over a bumpy path. My heart was still racing hours later. I was pretty disappointed that I freaked out a second time, but now I know, and I don't think there will be a third. Maybe if I have a hand to hold.

By the time I had returned the flashlights to the Visitor Center, it was almost eleven, and I lost another hour when I had to turn around after 30 minutes because I had left my toiletries behind. I was still quite tense from my spelunking, and the day did not get any better. In order: Taco Bell got my gross fast-food order mixed up with something grosser, I had severe lower back pain that could not be relieved by any amount of twisting in my seat or padding with shirts, and, oh yeah, the car died 60 miles from Portland. It was a slow death, quite exciting actually, as things turned off one by one while I was driving: the radio, the air conditioner, the speedometer dial, the RPM dial, the antilock brakes, and the power steering. Finally, the engine clunked to a halt just as I was able to pull into a Chevron station. Turns out the alternator had crapped out. Also turns out that alternators are expensive to replace, and have to be ordered. Which means that when your car dies on Saturday evening in Government Camp, you have to get it towed to Portland ($220 - thanks, AAA [sarcastic]) that night, towed again on Monday to the shop (free - thanks, AAA [sincere]), and not fixed until Tuesday late afternoon ($430). That was draining, mostly on the bank account.

The rest of the Portland trip, luckily, turned out just fine. I got some much needed exercise with squash and tennis (and even a short run in my new running shoes!), played a gig with the Slow Drags, saw the new Transformers movie, went to an awesome concert, and got some great tracks down for the new Slow Drags EP (no link for this – you've got to wait until the EP is released in September). And the drive back was, like I wrote earlier, quite easy. The car did fine – no battery troubles, no oil troubles, no nothing.

And yet, I'm back in an auto repair shop. Different car, my friends. I drove my parents' BMW up to Portland – she is the one that died on me. Now the Camry is getting her brakes and lights inspected, so that she may once again be registered in the State of California. Tomorrow comes the smog check, and then Monday it's back to the DMV to finish the process. Oh, I'm so glad I get to do all of my favorite things while I'm home in Davis.