A friend assures me is a lovely town, well worth a visit in non-Covid times. There is a Shakespeare Festival, historic inns. It might be lovely, it might be industrial, I have no clue. When arriving off I-5 around 1900 in the evening it was impossible to tell. Most certainly it is not a town that is spending significant resources on street lighting. Located 16 miles north of the California border, the sign for Ashland was a welcome sight.
The sun is setting earlier and I do not enjoy driving in the dark. Not in the dark, not up and down hills (mountains?), nor around curves. We will not speak of the fact that more than 50% of the vehicles sharing the road with me had twelve wheels or more. They sail down hills before gradually slowing as they grind their way up the next. Their head lights provide an unwanted glare in my rear view mirrors. The few other cars dart past, between the trucks sometimes managing a speed only marginally faster than required for overtaking.
This kind of excitement and stress do not bring me joy. I really, really no longer enjoy driving at night and have decided that I will not blow this particular popsicle stand prior to decent light in the morning.
In case you are wondering, I am currently headed to Portland. There is a knitting friend there who is also a weaver. He is a brother to a much longer known friend, indie.dyer and yarn shop owner in the San Juans. I have “toys” that have been occupying space in my life, our garage prior to our most recent move to Germany if that gives you an idea on the age. I am never going to use them again. Selling them is just too much of a pain. So why not give them to an engineer? Neither he nor his son have a clue as to what fills the back of our VW Golf. But I was reassured that there was plenty of space in his great room.
We shall see….