I used to do regular “recreational driving” day trips, which usually limited the radius to half-a-day’s driving and back. Occasional overnighter trips. I was especially fond of driving in the area surrounding and north of the S. F. Bay Area.
One night a few years ago (long after I moved away from the Bay Area and wasn’t much into recreational driving any more anyway), I had a dream so seemingly realistic that after I woke up, it took me a while to realize that it was a dream.
I was living a long way from the Bay Area, but in the dream I drove back into the Bay Area. I found myself approaching the Bay Bridge (the old bridge) eastbound, on that double-deck section that snakes among the buildings of S. F. Only the road was much more cavernous, much more mazelike and the route convoluted, more that IRL. Immediately after that, I found myself in the Martinez area, crossing the bridge there (Martinez bridge), which led me directly into San Rafael. (Dream geography.) Where I-580 meets 101, there’s a motel that’s been there since forever, but in the dream it was a multi-story combined parking structure and yacht dealership.
Next thing I knew, I was driving up Hwy 1 in the Bolinas Bay area, and it was dark with the moon reflecting on Bolinas Bay. I planned to drive up into Sonoma County toward the Russian River area.
AND THEN: I suddenly saw a fork in the road up ahead, which I had never noticed before, although I had driven that way many times. I made a mental note to come back another day and take the fork I had never taken before. Then, just at the very last moment, I suddenly decided to take the right fork (the unfamiliar one) then. Then I immediately found myself driving on a winding mountain road surrounded by a fabulously beautiful dense forest of fir trees. It seemed like evening now, and somewhat misty, with lights from cabin windows visible through the trees here and there – the sort of scene straight out of Norwegian postcard scenes.
Reaching the summit of that mountain and going down the other side, the scenery abruptly changed to desert (scenes I remember from driving through the Mojave area), including the remains of an old cement plant (that really exists in the Lucerne Valley area near Victorville). I decided to head south back towards home, and the dream ended and I woke up.
As I lay in bed, having just woke up, I replayed that whole dream in my mind, not even realizing for a while that it was just a dream, and spent a while trying to make plans to visit that area again and repeat that drive. As my mind gradually began to wake up, I began to realize that I had no idea where that fork in the road was, nor how to get there again and I finally figured out that the whole trip was just a dream.