Changing Careers: Part Two
After exploring a while longer, I stashed my camera back in my bag and clambered down a mound of snow towards my car. Grateful to still have cell service, I plugged in my next destination and pondered the suggested route. Redwood National Park— a three hour drive. The sun had now set and I was debating getting a hotel for the night instead of having to set up camp in the dark. Thinking better of it, I decided to press on and get the drive out of the way.
Heading west on US-199, a bemused smile crossed my face as I found myself appreciating the careful craftsmanship of the road in front of me. Tight turns, steep cliffs, no shoulder, and a hell of a lot of guardrail. It was a funny realization that I had grown to appreciate the complexities of engineering, but no longer wished to take part in designing them myself— respecting the craft but not wanting to be the crafter, so to speak.
'End Route’ flashed on my screen as the Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park sign came into view. Surrounded by darkness, I idled my way to my campsite, eyes fixated on the pops of white paint calling out site numbers in the distance. Fumbling in my bag for a headlamp, I quickly got to work setting up the tent. Poles attached and tent laid in front of me, a looming shape caught my eye as I began to feed them through. Startled, I glanced up and clocked the metal locker in the back of my campsite, oh yeah… bears… I thought, and hurried on a little faster. After staking down the rain fly, I slid the zipper door open, ready to finally rest for the night.
The sight of a single sleeping bag in the middle of a three person tent amused me; it was my first time camping solo. My head hit my pillow and I thought sleep would come instantly. Wrong. The surprisingly crisp night air engulfed me and seemed to penetrate every layer I continued to add to my body. With zero distractions and not wanting to drain my phone battery, I was left to lie in silence— my mind running a million miles a minute.
Why was I so rattled from my exchange with the Canadian? I wondered. He was kind and I didn’t say anything regrettable? I rolled over in my sleeping bag and retook the fetal position. I think I was embarrassed. My heart sped up at the thought. It was a self imposed situation of having to say I was unemployed. I had grown so accustomed to the pride and confidence I got when talking about work and who I was, despite feeling like an outsider much of the time. You’re not your work, Erin. I rolled back over and pulled my knees to my chest, willing myself to sleep.
After a fitful night’s rest at best, I awoke at the first light and decided to pack up and be on my way. As the soft glow started to spread through the trees, I was left in awe of the monstrous plants around me. My 5’6” wingspan only covered half the width of the tree trunks, making me feel like a tiny ant in a comically oversized maze. After hours of wandering through the woods, I figured I would do one last short hike before hitting the road and heading towards the coast.
To be frank, the first part of the hike sucked. So much so, that I debated turning around and calling it good. But the need for a permit and code to access the private road for the trailhead made me press on— it must be worth it. I continued down the steep descent and finally got to the placard of the destination tree. It was big and mighty, but not bigger or mightier than any of the others I had seen earlier in the day. I wandered a little further, knowing the requirements and exclusiveness had to exist for a reason— it must be worth it. But each direction I looked showed more of the same. Frustrated, I switched on my camera, hoping the view through the lens might catch something, knowing even while I took them I knew they were nothing special. “Hmm” I said aloud, “Not all it’s cracked up to be”.
The lackluster feelings felt familiar, having had similar thoughts every day at work. Not all it was cracked up to be. I had my doubts early on if I’m being honest, about my interest in civil engineering, but I always thought I could find a way to justify it. For the salary, or a learned appreciation of the industry, or the opportunities within. I started my trek up the hill but my line of thought continued.
I used to be a little soldier following my own stubborn orders, never stopping to see if the other little guy– my gut check– was worth listening to. I would steam roll past any doubt that ever crept into my head, judging it as weakness or laziness, rather than a sign that, at 19, maybe I wasn’t exactly sure what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. And that that could be okay.
A few beads of sweat rolled past my temples and I wiped them before they could drip off my chin. Career choice: ‘Did not meet expectations’. I laughed at the corporate performance evaluation joke and pressed on back to my car. Perhaps… it may be wise to start listening to the voice in my head, who has an inkling of what she may or may not want.
Plopping down in the driver's seat, I threw a PCH playlist on spotify to set the mood for my drive down the coast. A thumpy bass line punched through the speakers and I rolled down the windows as I pulled out of the parking lot. Despite the last hike being a bust, it was otherwise a pretty perfect day. I pulled my sunglasses down from the top of my head as the first hits of the golden hour sun started pouring through the windshield. I didn’t talk to a single other soul, my eyeballs feasted on some new sights, and I gained a bit of perspective. Back on track.