This is a commentary about the slow lane, about the slowing of time since I suffered a severe brain injury while skateboarding with my dog. This is a blog about recovery; about our '82 VW Westfalia. It's about writing, surfing, camping, married life, bleeding ulcers that make you feel old at 32; about family, friends, and my dog Artie; it's about cruising in fourth gear, getting passed by every car and learning to appreciate every second of it.
Early afternoon, last Thursday, Aimee and I packed up the Westy and left San Diego for Yosemite. That day we sputtered our way through Southern California. Going up the Tejon Pass, the small diesel engine topped out at 34 miles per hour and I had a smile, at least a smirk, on my face the entire time.
I needed the trip. I needed a fresh outlook. I left with the realization that I would no longer speak to some family members for a long time. And while the conversations with those family members played on repeat for most of the trip, Aimee and I rejoiced on the open road.
Even though our rear tire blew while driving through Fresno, the trip, the feeling of the open road, hanging out and having beers with old friends, mixed with talks about future road trips in the Westy kept us excited and laughing all the way.
We needed it. The past few months have been tough. During those months I succumbed to depression. I lost sight of the target. I lost confidence in myself. The trip put it back in focus.