Belonging to My Car Accident and a New Home
A story of fear to finding belonging and moving to the Sierra Nevadas
It was July 2020 and every day was filed with uncertainty.
I was living in Los Angeles during the peak of COVID and I was laid off from my job of three years. The city was full of anger and pent up energy from our lives being taken away from us. I will never forget the moment of taking the last toilet paper bunch at Smart and Final. We lost humanity and I craved normal life again. But, there was no end in sight.
I needed an escape. And then an opportunity arose.
My ex-boyfriend—a complicated line between love and friendship—called with an invitation: his family's inaugural camping trip in Gunnison National Forest. “Yes”. We packed up our cars and it was time to escape.
We were both old school Land Rover fanatics and we drove our rigs fourteen hours to Gunnison. My car was/is the never ending project. My recent lift kit at the time (a mismatch of ambition and capability), nagged at me, but, I trusted him.
Engines hummed*
Driving from Grand Junction, the landscape shifted suddenly—paved roads dissolved into dirt, the world became an abyss of pine trees and vibrant fields of wildflowers. I pulled over to breath. It didn’t feel real. It was one of the most beautiful places I have ever been.
We reached our campsite. For six days we did not see another human and we became a part of the forest.
During the day: we would take out our rigs for exploration of the forest, meadows, lakes and rivers. We were “Lord of the Flies” carrying our 22. At night: we listened to crackling fires, packs of coyotes howling in the black night; ending on laying in our tents listening to the creek. We were alive and living.
But, as all adventures our time came to an end.
We were beginning our journey back to California. But, I did not want to wake up from this dream and insisted on one last hike.
A nightgown and a field of wildflowers. We wandered through the vibrant fields of blooms for the last time. Each moment felt suspended in time. I knew the end was looming, but it was not just losing the forest. But, also myself.
The hike ended and we began the drive on a dirt road back towards Grand Junction. He was driving behind me. I will never forget the song playing in my car, Gravity (linked below). Singing out loud, I was already day dreaming of the trip that just came to an end.
All of a sudden, I was in a nightmare.
One moment I was driving, the next, the wheel was spinning out of control. The car jerked violently, spinning wildly. I was helpless. Time seemed to slow as I hurtled towards a hill and telephone pole. Smash*
I laid back at a 90 degree angle looking up, shocked, and shaking.
What just happened? I felt paralysis and trying to orient to the upward angle. The question of what just happened played on a loop and then disbelief and shock set in. He came running over. I turned and looked at him as he was standing on the hill with fear and shock in his face. The car door opened, his voice was muffled and he pulled me out.
I replayed the accident for days in internal monologues, “I was only driving 30 mph”, “how did I lose control”, “why did the wheel spin”. The finding was that the car was lifted too high for the stock build.
Later on, I realized it was an act of God.
The car was totaled and I was a shell of a human. We limped the car back to California. He was a mechanic and he was able to patch up my car from the accident.
Being back in Los Angeles, I remained haunted by the crash and then the return to confinement– a stark contrast from the freedom I had just tasted.
It was clear that I immediately needed to escape, again. But, where to go?
Lake Tahoe: “sure, I've heard of it. Who hasn't? I have never been. I like lakes and mountains, why not?”. I found myself scrolling through endless "no availability" notices on AirBnb, rental sites, etc.
Scanning the AirBnB map, that's when I saw it: Donner Lake. A small blip of a lake and the name triggered a flashback to a childhood history lesson. The Donner Party. I called a friend: “have you ever heard of Donner Lake?”. She said she had been one time and Truckee was a cute town.
There was one rental left. Booked. With a bandaid on the car filed to the top and with just enough desperation, I made the 8 hour drive.
Little did I know, that I would not be coming back. My stuff in the car would be all that I have and my life would change forever.
It was a long drive, but the moment I exited the freeway towards Donner Lake is etched in my memory. The sky was pink and the peaks were brushed with light orange from the recent sunset. The winding road descended towards the lake: each turn revealing a new view of alpine. Stepping out of the car, the intoxicating scent of summer – pine needles, warm earth and fresh mountain air.
It was pure magic and something in my soul told me I never want to leave.
With each day, the magic of Donner Lake deepened. A phone call from my mom turned my world upside down. Family? In Truckee? It was a revelation that sent shivers down my spine. This unexpected connection and sense of belonging felt like a movie.
And then, the final day came. We were leaving back to LA and all of a sudden as the car was loaded and ready to go my car threw a check engine light. Deep down, I was extremely happy. I kissed my partner goodbye and told my best friend, “I will see you in a few days”.
I never came back.
The days that followed unfolded like a divine puzzle. When my car was getting fixed, I booked an Airbnb from a man who became my partner for the next four years. Days later, a local offered me her cabin where I would live alone 9 months in the forest. And then a whole life blossomed over the course of the next three years.
To this day, it is hard to believe how one of my darkest times turned into a revivla for a new home. It taught me that life can be full of magic through events of adversity.
I found belonging in the Sierras and my life changed forever. I am thankful every day for my car accident.
Songs:
What a wild story! I am passing through Tahoe right now and it’s beautiful. You’re lucky to have found a home here! 🏔️ 🌲