I've spent my whole life running to the East Coast for vacation. And the lead up to the ocean begins hours and hours before you arrive--the land changes, dropping lower and lower, swamps cut in, the ground gets drier, then sandier, and the vegetation gets stumpier and less kelly green. And then eventually, there's the Atlantic.
Not so on the West Coast. On one side of the road, it's country business as usual--farms, cattle, crops, sheep. On the other side of the road, a precipitous drop into the ocean, the continent crumbling off into the water. There's no gentle, gradual drop out there. . . and as a result, it feels like the end of things.
right side of the road: gentle rolling hills and farms and cattle.
the other side of the road: continent dropping off into the sea.
Dramatic and hard to wrap our heads around.
In lots of places along the road, traffic was narrowed to one lane shared by both north and south bound traffic. . . because the outer lane of the highway had dropped off and slid away. Not very comforting.
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