a cloud of eider down, draws around me softening the sound

the drive through utah, for the most part, was great. As in colorado, there were LONG stretches of no cell phone reception (or gas stations or rest areas!) so it was just me and the music for a long time... which was wonderful. my brother told me of a place i should stop at near Zion national Park called "the bit and spur saloon" where he once saw Frank Zappa's old band performing (no, not the mothers.) unfortunately, it was only open after 5 pm, and i was on a tight schedule to make it to las vegas.

after a full day of driving, i made it across the desert between Utah and southern Nevada, and off in the distance saw a light haze of smog over the desert. before i knew it, i was making wrong turns onto the main freeway in Las Vegas during rush hour, with the sun in my eyes... ooops.

i got to David Weiller's house amazingly on time (again because i was gaining an hour in Pacific time, not of my own accord) and we just sat and caught up for several hours. his house was everything i hoped it would be, with a huge collection of recordings in CD and vinyl, decorated with great paintings, books, and a baby grand piano, with the pedal almost broken off.


after trying to find my score of sunday in the park with george to play through, we got in touch with another friend from CLOC at UNLV, Molly Prout. after she met us at Maestro's house we decided to skip the Brian Stokes Mitchell performance and reminisced for hours about the previous summer (it had only been about 12 days since our summer on Cape Cod ended abruptly.)we didn't do the traditional thing at Vegas where you visit the strip with all the casinos, but they did give me a taste of vegas. i was unaware that casinos were famous for their massive buffets, so before it got too late, we rushed to a local casino in Henderson (suburb of vegas where weiller lived) and scarfed down even more while trying to make sense of the summer. as he said himself, it was very reassuring and reaffirming to hang out with CLOC people in the real world, because it usually lets you know that you weren't the only one who needed help making sense of the summer. i phrase it this way not in a negative light, but simply because it helps to examine it in retrospect with others who were there, because it all goes by so quickly, and there is no time to stop and think about it.
the next morning Weiller had to host an annual workshop with local high schools and UNLV students (entitled "men, muscles, and singing"!) so we said goodbye, and i headed to California.

one of the most unexpected and amazing parts of the trip (at least scenically speaking) was the drive from Nevada, through the corner of Arizona, and into southern California. after vainly attempting to find internet access in Vegas before i left, i planned out the soundtrack for the remainder of the trip, and headed southwest. just as i entered Arizona, the first movement of Mahler's 9th symphony began, and a huge canyon came out of nowhere, and before i knew it, i was cavorting through the canyon at breakneck speeds (relative for my car at least!)


one would think that Mahler himself had taken a raft down the colorado as inspiration for this piece, because again it seemed like every twist, and every turn that i took was being underscored perfectly by the recording. the only way i can describe it is this: imagine you're on the most exciting roller-coaster you've ever been on; except instead of an amusement park, you're going through a part of the grand canyon, in a huge mercedes, with the Berlin Philharmonic accompanying you. the last few serenely pastoral moments of the movement came to an end just as the desert ahead became visible, and i was shot out of the canyon, like a surfer being reborn through the perfect wave.

after a few more hours of driving, i suddenly got really excited, because i realized i had never seen the pacific coast before! i was bypassing through the northern suburbs of LA and came out into a small town called Ventura. there, i saw the first sign for the Pacific Coast Highway (hwy 1) and i pulled off onto a scenic overview and just took in the view.


i got back onto hwy 101 N, which was still followed the coastline for most of the drive, and went through an amazing drive through the vineyards of southern california. not many words can describe it, so i'll just try to show you (kudos to those who can name the tune playing in my car):



as the sun was setting, i was once again racing with the clock to make it to the campsite before nightfall. i pulled into Morro Bay State Park, overlooking Morro Bay Estuary, around 7:30 pm, and set up camp for the night, not planning to wake up and cross a state border for a while.