I’d been checking the road conditions all week long, so when I hit the road to Reno Saturday morning at 5:45 AM, I just hoped a snowstorm wouldn’t hit. It was a pristine morning to be on the road. There was the start of a beautiful sunrise as I cruised down Embarcadero. Bay Bridge appeared to be glowing. I watched the sunrise over the green hills in East Bay. Prior to this morning, Fairfield was the furthest I’d backtracked on I-80 since my original drive to SF in ‘08. It made for a whole different scene in winter, though. The week of heavy rain had left the Sierras draped in snow. Snow patches started appearing along the side of the road at elevations as low as 3000 ft. It was so gorgeous and I wished I had a go pro camera to capture Holiday driving in such a scene. The roads were a bit slick and since we were dealing with 7% up & downgrades, taking photos seemed unsafe. I pulled off at the vista point at Donner Lake to snap some pics. I had to climb a 3ft snowbank to actually see the lake.

I made it to Steve’s house in Sparks at around 10:30 AM. This wasn’t going to be a normal social call. Steve has gone through some really rough times over the past year or so, which I’d only recently found out about. It was to be my last chance to visit him before he went away for awhile. The trip was as much for my own guilt as it was to try to do whatever I could to distract him from current circumstances.

He had mentioned having a surprise for me, so when I got there, he set this scrap of paper in front of me:

Oh, the random things that survive the years. It was a small corner of a page from a Purdue Mortar Board circa 2001-02. Steve had posted the top line as an AIM status message, and I thought it must be an anagram. If you knew Steve in college (goth boy who I never saw in anything but black and a Manson or NIN t-shirt), you’d better understand why he found my translation so hilarious. It was a great memory to have unearthed from the early days of our friendship.

We spent a large portion of the trip gathering books for he & his roommate’s library at bargain shops. The best flashback discovery for me was a copy of Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, which I distinctly remember our 2nd grade teacher reading to us from during a blackout at school caused by a blizzard. I picked up a couple books, “Rear Window and Other Stories” & “The Way of Individuality”, and a few vinyl records: Wagner, Jackie Gleason, and Swan Lake.

The whole weekend was kind of surreal in that way. It was a series of flashbacks. Playing only the industrial music on my ipod because that’s what Steve liked, looking through people’s discarded treasures at Goodwill, and rejoining with a group of guys I hadn’t seen or talked to since May 08.

That night we went to Red Robin for dinner. It was me, four gay guys & a lesbian. It was an interesting dynamic for the night. We stayed up late playing Apples to Apples and watching episodes of Archer.

Really, the star of the weekend was Stella, a 9-month-old bloodhound who I adored. She was so sweet but her body was so ridiculous. We became fast friends.

It was a short trip, since I had to head back to SF after lunch on Sunday. I saw a wall of clouds over the Sierras and sure enough, as I approached the snow was already coming down. It wasn’t long before I was in bumper-to-bumper traffic, coasting along at 15mph. I pulled off at a vista point, which was full of snowplows, to capture the contrast to yesterday’s view.

We were stopped enough that I was able to capture the wall of snow on each side of me. My wheels are too large to use chains, so I was lucky to squeeze through before any chain requirements were in place. It took forever to get through Donner Pass.

The rest of the drive home wasn’t much better. In place of snow was torrential downpours for most of the drive back. It took 2 hours longer for me to get back to SF, so I was glad I hadn’t waited any later.

The real drama came just outside Sacramento. I’d only had maybe 3 hours of sleep, and the slow traffic through Donner wasn’t helping, so I’d just kicked back some 5-hour energy as a precaution. Luckily, the rain had let up for a bit at this point. I was leading a pack of cars from the left lane, when I noticed a car coming at us perpendicularly from the right. It was as if it drove straight down the embankment rather than taking the on-ramp because the entire frame was bouncing as it came flying on to the freeway. I braked hard and went off to the shoulder. As I crossed in front of it, the driver turned hard, turning them toward traffic in the center lane. I watched all the cars behind me brake/move in time and kept driving. I’ve never been in such a state of shock, as I replayed what almost happened. We were all extremely fortunate. There just happened to be a large enough gap in traffic at that moment to allow for all this to happen without injury. My hands were shaking and the remaining drive home became even more strained at that point. Vallejo traffic is always my worst nightmare. It was pouring and the left lane was flooded, but naturally, people were driving as if it were perfect conditions, swerving in & out of traffic at high speeds. I hydroplaned a bit and just waited for another close call to happen, but fortunately, one never did.

It was an emotional rollercoaster of a weekend, but it was fun and I’m happy the weather allowed me to get through to pay Steve a visit.