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Devil's Canyon
-I know, I know I journal way too much sometimes, but this is a story I always said I had to get down on paper one day.
Journaling reads: I moved from Connecticut out to San Diego in January of 1980. All my friends could not believe that I was driving by myself across the country. I always thought that funny and I would respond to them its not like it is covered wagon days. I saw it as a big adventure, and couldnt wait to start my new life on the West Coast. I owned a 73 Super Beetle, had purchased a roof rack, and placed everything in large boxes on top of the car, filling the inside as well, leaving just enough space to see out the back. On the back of the car was my beloved 10 speed. I remember the stops I made on the drive out. The boxes on top were too large for me to take down each night, so I would look for a motel that looked safe for me to leave at night, but got little to no sleep each night, fearing my belonging would be gone the next morning. I drove as many hours as I could each day, anxious to get out to California.
I had one friend in San Diego that was going to put me up for a while until I found a place to live. I stopped before entering California at a rest stop. I was told it was pouring, and that Mission Valley was flooded. Not knowing the area I was quite concerned how I would make it to Ocean Beach, but figured I would give it a try. I remember driving through miles of flat farm land, enjoying the drive until I reached Ocotillo. In front of me was a huge mountain of boulders which Interstate 8 seemed to be going through. The beauty of it was breath-taking. I had never seen terrain like this. I saw no earth, just huge boulders. I began my accent, and as I climbed, the winds began blowing hard against my little VW. I clenched the steering wheel to steer against the wind, and kept driving. I noticed the climb was slowing the VW down to about 45MPH, but I often had to slow to a crawl behind the 18 wheelers that were creeping up the mountain. I noticed every mile or so, concrete cylinders in turnouts with signs stating that radiator water was available for overheating cars and was glad that the VW had no radiator. I continued my climb thinking that with each turn up the mountain, I would see the end, but instead I saw nothing but continued turns and more boulders. Still climbing, I found myself so stressed with the heavy winds fighting against my little car, and the slow climb, that I eventually pulled over at one of the water cylinders and just sat and cried for a bit. This was before cell phones, so I had no means of contacting anyone if heaven forbid, the car did break down -I just remember thinking that I just wanted to see a town again or some sense of civilization. There just didnt seem to be an end to this climb and these boulders.
After a bit of a rest, I got back in the car, ready to brave the rest of the climb. I was glad to find that I only had a few more miles. Ecstatic, I reached the top, loosened my grip on the steering wheel, and looked for a rest stop to call San Diego. I will always remember my trek through Devils Canyon, and feel it quite the appropriate name for. So amazing a place, but scary, just the same. I have since taken many trips to the area to drink in the beauty of the area without fear of being lost amongst the boulders.
When my sister came out for a visit a few years after I moved, I had to take her out to the desert to show her this magnificent terrain. That is when this photo was taken of me. I now laugh about my scary trek through Devils Canyon such a marvelous and magical place.
I moved from Connecticut to San Diego in January of 1980. All my friends could not believe that I was driving across the country, all by myself. I always thought that funny and I would respond to them its not like it is covered wagon days. I saw it as a big adventure, and couldnt wait to start my new life on the West Coast. I owned a 73 Super Beetle, had purchased a roof rack, and placed everything in large boxes on top of the car, filling the inside as well, leaving just enough space to see out the back. On the back of the car was my beloved 10 speed. I remember the stops I made on the drive out. The boxes on top were too large for me to take down each night, so I would look for a motel that looked safe for me to leave at night, but got little to no sleep each night, fearing my belonging would be gone the next morning. I drove as many hours as I could each day, anxious to get out to California. I had one friend in San Diego that was going to put me up for a while until I found a place to live. I stopped before entering California at a rest stop. I was told it was pouring, and that Mission Valley was flooded. Not knowing the area I was quite concerned how I would make it to Ocean Beach, but figured I would give it a try. I remember driving through miles of flat farm land, enjoying the drive until I reached Ocotillo. In front of me was a huge mountain of boulders which Interstate 8 seemed to be going through. The beauty of it was breath-taking. I had never seen terrain like this. I saw no earth, just huge boulders. I began my accent, and as I climbed, the winds began blowing hard against my little VW. I clenched the steering wheel to steer against the wind, and kept driving. I noticed the climb was slowing the VW down to about 45MPH, but I often had to slow to a crawl behind the 18 wheelers that were creeping up the mountain. I noticed every mile or so, concrete cylinders in turnouts with signs stating that radiator water was available for overheating cars and was glad that the VW had no radiator. I continued my climb thinking that with each turn up the mountain, I would see the end, but instead I saw nothing but continued turns and more boulders. Still climbing, I found myself so stressed with the heavy winds fighting against my little car, and the slow climb, that I eventually pulled over at one of the water cylinders and just sat and cried for a bit. This was before cell phones, so I had no means of contacting anyone if heaven forbid, the car did break down -I just remember thinking that I just wanted to see a town again or some sense of civilization. There just didnt seem to be an end to this climb and these boulders.
After a bit of a rest, I got back in the car, ready to brave the rest of the climb. I was glad to find that I only had a few more miles. Ecstatic, I reached the top, loosened my grip on the steering wheel, and looked for a rest stop to call San Diego. I will always remember my trek through Devils Canyon, and feel it quite the appropriate name. So amazing a place, but scary, just the same. I have since taken many trips to the area to drink in the beauty of the area without fear of being lost amongst the boulders. When my sister came out for a visit a few years after I moved, I had to take her out to the desert to show her this magnificent terrain. That is when this photo was taken of me. I now laugh about my scary trek through Devils Canyon such a marvelous and magical place.
All by Anna Aspnes
New tomorrow Artsy Template No. 63
***On Sale***
Distressed Months No. 1 BrushSet http://www.oscraps.com/shop/product.php?productid=28167&cat=398&page=1
Also used:
ArtPlay Palette Adventure http://www.oscraps.com/shop/product.php?productid=29867&cat=387&page=1
ArtPlay Palette Epic http://www.oscraps.com/shop/product.php?productid=30750&cat=387&page=1
ArtPlay Palette Autumnal No. 1 http://www.oscraps.com/shop/product.php?productid=28662&page=1
ArtPlay Palette Floralis http://www.oscraps.com/shop/product.php?productid=27642&page=1
Travel WordMix No. 1 http://www.oscraps.com/shop/product.php?productid=30494&page=1
Different strokes No. 6 http://www.oscraps.com/shop/product.php?productid=27961&page=1
Distressed Dates No. 1 http://www.oscraps.com/shop/product.php?productid=28156&page=1
Adventure WordTransfers No. 1 http://www.oscraps.com/shop/product.php?productid=29848&page=1
Straight Line Stitched White No. 3 http://www.oscraps.com/shop/product.php?productid=30814&page=1
font: Esat Hoxha NRML
Journaling reads: I moved from Connecticut out to San Diego in January of 1980. All my friends could not believe that I was driving by myself across the country. I always thought that funny and I would respond to them its not like it is covered wagon days. I saw it as a big adventure, and couldnt wait to start my new life on the West Coast. I owned a 73 Super Beetle, had purchased a roof rack, and placed everything in large boxes on top of the car, filling the inside as well, leaving just enough space to see out the back. On the back of the car was my beloved 10 speed. I remember the stops I made on the drive out. The boxes on top were too large for me to take down each night, so I would look for a motel that looked safe for me to leave at night, but got little to no sleep each night, fearing my belonging would be gone the next morning. I drove as many hours as I could each day, anxious to get out to California.
I had one friend in San Diego that was going to put me up for a while until I found a place to live. I stopped before entering California at a rest stop. I was told it was pouring, and that Mission Valley was flooded. Not knowing the area I was quite concerned how I would make it to Ocean Beach, but figured I would give it a try. I remember driving through miles of flat farm land, enjoying the drive until I reached Ocotillo. In front of me was a huge mountain of boulders which Interstate 8 seemed to be going through. The beauty of it was breath-taking. I had never seen terrain like this. I saw no earth, just huge boulders. I began my accent, and as I climbed, the winds began blowing hard against my little VW. I clenched the steering wheel to steer against the wind, and kept driving. I noticed the climb was slowing the VW down to about 45MPH, but I often had to slow to a crawl behind the 18 wheelers that were creeping up the mountain. I noticed every mile or so, concrete cylinders in turnouts with signs stating that radiator water was available for overheating cars and was glad that the VW had no radiator. I continued my climb thinking that with each turn up the mountain, I would see the end, but instead I saw nothing but continued turns and more boulders. Still climbing, I found myself so stressed with the heavy winds fighting against my little car, and the slow climb, that I eventually pulled over at one of the water cylinders and just sat and cried for a bit. This was before cell phones, so I had no means of contacting anyone if heaven forbid, the car did break down -I just remember thinking that I just wanted to see a town again or some sense of civilization. There just didnt seem to be an end to this climb and these boulders.
After a bit of a rest, I got back in the car, ready to brave the rest of the climb. I was glad to find that I only had a few more miles. Ecstatic, I reached the top, loosened my grip on the steering wheel, and looked for a rest stop to call San Diego. I will always remember my trek through Devils Canyon, and feel it quite the appropriate name for. So amazing a place, but scary, just the same. I have since taken many trips to the area to drink in the beauty of the area without fear of being lost amongst the boulders.
When my sister came out for a visit a few years after I moved, I had to take her out to the desert to show her this magnificent terrain. That is when this photo was taken of me. I now laugh about my scary trek through Devils Canyon such a marvelous and magical place.
I moved from Connecticut to San Diego in January of 1980. All my friends could not believe that I was driving across the country, all by myself. I always thought that funny and I would respond to them its not like it is covered wagon days. I saw it as a big adventure, and couldnt wait to start my new life on the West Coast. I owned a 73 Super Beetle, had purchased a roof rack, and placed everything in large boxes on top of the car, filling the inside as well, leaving just enough space to see out the back. On the back of the car was my beloved 10 speed. I remember the stops I made on the drive out. The boxes on top were too large for me to take down each night, so I would look for a motel that looked safe for me to leave at night, but got little to no sleep each night, fearing my belonging would be gone the next morning. I drove as many hours as I could each day, anxious to get out to California. I had one friend in San Diego that was going to put me up for a while until I found a place to live. I stopped before entering California at a rest stop. I was told it was pouring, and that Mission Valley was flooded. Not knowing the area I was quite concerned how I would make it to Ocean Beach, but figured I would give it a try. I remember driving through miles of flat farm land, enjoying the drive until I reached Ocotillo. In front of me was a huge mountain of boulders which Interstate 8 seemed to be going through. The beauty of it was breath-taking. I had never seen terrain like this. I saw no earth, just huge boulders. I began my accent, and as I climbed, the winds began blowing hard against my little VW. I clenched the steering wheel to steer against the wind, and kept driving. I noticed the climb was slowing the VW down to about 45MPH, but I often had to slow to a crawl behind the 18 wheelers that were creeping up the mountain. I noticed every mile or so, concrete cylinders in turnouts with signs stating that radiator water was available for overheating cars and was glad that the VW had no radiator. I continued my climb thinking that with each turn up the mountain, I would see the end, but instead I saw nothing but continued turns and more boulders. Still climbing, I found myself so stressed with the heavy winds fighting against my little car, and the slow climb, that I eventually pulled over at one of the water cylinders and just sat and cried for a bit. This was before cell phones, so I had no means of contacting anyone if heaven forbid, the car did break down -I just remember thinking that I just wanted to see a town again or some sense of civilization. There just didnt seem to be an end to this climb and these boulders.
After a bit of a rest, I got back in the car, ready to brave the rest of the climb. I was glad to find that I only had a few more miles. Ecstatic, I reached the top, loosened my grip on the steering wheel, and looked for a rest stop to call San Diego. I will always remember my trek through Devils Canyon, and feel it quite the appropriate name. So amazing a place, but scary, just the same. I have since taken many trips to the area to drink in the beauty of the area without fear of being lost amongst the boulders. When my sister came out for a visit a few years after I moved, I had to take her out to the desert to show her this magnificent terrain. That is when this photo was taken of me. I now laugh about my scary trek through Devils Canyon such a marvelous and magical place.
All by Anna Aspnes
New tomorrow Artsy Template No. 63
***On Sale***
Distressed Months No. 1 BrushSet http://www.oscraps.com/shop/product.php?productid=28167&cat=398&page=1
Also used:
ArtPlay Palette Adventure http://www.oscraps.com/shop/product.php?productid=29867&cat=387&page=1
ArtPlay Palette Epic http://www.oscraps.com/shop/product.php?productid=30750&cat=387&page=1
ArtPlay Palette Autumnal No. 1 http://www.oscraps.com/shop/product.php?productid=28662&page=1
ArtPlay Palette Floralis http://www.oscraps.com/shop/product.php?productid=27642&page=1
Travel WordMix No. 1 http://www.oscraps.com/shop/product.php?productid=30494&page=1
Different strokes No. 6 http://www.oscraps.com/shop/product.php?productid=27961&page=1
Distressed Dates No. 1 http://www.oscraps.com/shop/product.php?productid=28156&page=1
Adventure WordTransfers No. 1 http://www.oscraps.com/shop/product.php?productid=29848&page=1
Straight Line Stitched White No. 3 http://www.oscraps.com/shop/product.php?productid=30814&page=1
font: Esat Hoxha NRML