Here we are in Salem, Oregon. 600 miles from San Francisco, 220 from Seattle. Yesterday we left the old house, tomorrow we arrive at the new house. Today there is no continuity with either future or past, we are nomads. Information-age Bedouins with laptop, cell phones and a digital camera, and a 1995 BMW M3 in lieu of a camel.

Sections of I-5 in northern California and southern Oregon are stunning, with big green trees, big mountains and big lakes. There are few people and cars in parts. I once heard that there was once a young single man who, one Sunday morning years ago, drove that stretch of highway at over 100 mph for more than an hour. I heard elsewhere that the BMW M3 can exceed 100mph quite comfortably. I can't say where I heard these things, there are just certain things one knows to be true. Nevertheless, I scarcely pushed it past 80 today.

I don't think there are any witches in Salem, Oregon but I do have a splitting headache. Davey blew chunks all over himself this afternoon. I think it was just motion sickness but it was a bitch to clean up and he still smells funky.

Tomorrow: a day without towels or furniture.