Sierra Port

PART ONE

WELCOME HOME
PART ONE

FROM THE WAY I IMAGINED things to go, I always thought that I'd die at the age of 20. Sounds pessimistic, I know. But considering the fact that the entirety of my college years has been nothing but me making horrible, horrible mistakes, death might as well be at my door by now. Maybe that's why I decided to take a bus to Sierra Port.

     Sierra Port, my hometown, is a rural coastal town that you'd find anywhere in the Oregon Coast. You might say that it sounds like a dream living in a coastal town — it has long beaches that stretch across the whole coast, the sound of waves crashing onto the seashore seems calming, it has freshest seafood that no other place has to offer, et cetera. And yeah, on paper it does sound nice. But if you actually lived in Sierra Port for almost your entire lifetime, you'd know why those things weren't enough to make it in the "top 20 coastal towns to visit" in this year's travel log.

     If I could describe the town with one word, it would be "eh." As in, "Eh, at least it's not in Louisiana." (That would've been a better motto for our town.) Besides all the things that people like about coastal towns, that's pretty much it. Because there's not much that our town has to offer. We don't have outstanding landmarks like Cannon Beach, or fun outdoor recreations like Florence — hell, don't get me started with Portland. The only thing we have to offer is our Navarro State Park. (And that didn't go so well for us either, considering the fact that there's already a hundred more state parks in Oregon anyway.) Ever since the town's funding went crashing down back in the late 90's, little development has been made to make this sorry excuse of a town at least not boring to us locals.

     Now that I think about it, can I even call myself a local now? I mean, it's been years since my folks left town and moved to Portland when Dad got transferred there — and, well, I hardly ever visited our new home since college started anyway. So I guess I'm not a local to Portland either.

     Local or not, Sierra Port is still the same place that I grew up in. Despite that I shit-talk a lot about our town, it won't change the fact that was the very first home I've ever known. The only place that doesn't make sense, makes sense to me in a weird way. At least, that's what I thought when looking back at my reckless teenage years.

     Maybe that could've been a good reason to tell my parents when they asked me why I wanted to go in the first place. They were planning to visit during Thanksgiving like every year, so why did their only daughter wanted to go there all by herself, right after finishing college? The only reason I could think of back then was just a simple "I don't know, I just felt like it" response. Of course, my parents were skeptical about it. But when I told them I wanted to look for a part-time job while waiting for my graduation ceremony in October (which is a lie), they were alright with me purchasing a ticket.

     And so there I was, taking the bus to Sierra Port. The only person taking the bus to Sierra Port, apparently. 

     There were a lot more people when I first got on. But after many frequent stops along the way, I was the only one left. Either I was right about no one knew what the hell Sierra Port is, or that only a dumb chick like me would have the balls to go to a washed-up town in the middle of the night all by herself. Either way, I wasn't worried that much when the bus driver announced that we'll be arriving to Sierra Port in 15 minutes.

Although I was happy that I was visiting my hometown for the first time in years, something in the back of my mind was telling me that this was another one of those mistakes I'd regret for a lifetime. And in everything that came afterwards, maybe that could've been a clear sign to me that it was.