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带着回忆,重走加州1号公路

更新时间:2018/12/27 20:53:30 来源:纽约时报中文网 作者:佚名

California’s Highway 1, With Memory Riding Shotgun
带着回忆,重走加州1号公路

There’s a picture of me from the early ’90s: I’m 13, leaning against the railing of the Golden Gate Bridge, peering down into the water below. I look somber, possibly because my father had shared on approach to the landmark that it was, at least then, the most popular bridge in the world to jump off. Or maybe it was some other reason.

我有一张90年代早期拍的照片:13岁的我靠着金门大桥的栏杆,看着下面的海水。我看起来很消沉,可能是因为我爸告诉我这个地标是全世界最流行的跳桥自杀地(至少当时如此)。也可能是其他原因。

I was definitely freezing, my long legs in jean shorts exposed to the summer San Francisco air, which manages to look cold even in the photo. I would remember the unrelenting windy unpleasantness of that first trip to the city often after I moved to it more than a decade later, walking from work past tourists by the hundreds who were similarly underdressed, unable to fathom that there could be inclement weather in California.

我当时肯定冷死了,一双穿着牛仔短裤的长腿暴露在旧金山的夏日空气中,即使是在照片上,看起来也很冷。十几年后,在我搬到这座城市后,下班走过成百上千和我当时穿得差不多、不明白加州为何会有寒冷天气的游客时,我依然记得当时第一次来这里时一直刮风的不愉快。

That was the final stop on that family vacation, which was the first time I encountered the state, but it wasn’t the first discomfort during our trip. We’d gotten to the Bay Area via State Route 1, the epic and winding coastal road also known as Highway 1, my sister and I nauseated in the back seat and my mother panicking in the front as we took turns along cliff edges too fast. We had started in Los Angeles, where we had flown from Cleveland and stayed a night, we kids left at the motel while my parents went out. In the faraway unfamiliar city, noises through a door that opened directly to the outside, we were terrified.

那是全家度假的最后一站,是我第一次来这个州,但并不是我们那次旅行中第一次出现不适感。我们通过一号州道来到了湾区,一号州道这个漫长又蜿蜒曲折的海岸公路也叫1号公路,当我们沿着悬崖边的路转弯太快时,我的姐妹和我在后座上感到恶心想吐,我妈在前排惊慌失措。我们是从洛杉矶开始出发的,此前从克利夫兰坐飞机到洛杉矶,住了一晚。父母出门时,我们这些孩子就被留在汽车旅馆房间里。在一个离家遥远、陌生的城市,有声音从门外传来,而这道门可以打开直接通向外面,我们吓得够呛。

It wasn’t that I was looking to reclaim the highway, or the state, when I embarked on the trip in the opposite direction from my home in Oakland last month. I didn’t have a strict agenda. I was open, as one needs to be here, to where I would end up.

当我上个月从奥克兰的家里出发,以相反方向开始这趟旅程时,我不是想要重走这条高速公路,也不是想重游一次加州。我没有明确计划。我对此行的终点持开放态度,在这里的人需要这种态度。

I LEFT MY HOUSE IN THE CRISP, invigorating East Bay morning, elegant hills and gentrification shrouded in fog or wildfire smoke or both — usually, recently, both — and headed toward a bridge to the San Francisco peninsula, instantly sighing and celebrating. The city by the bay turns to bucolic beach town in about 15 minutes along the 1, as the ocean rolls into view on your right and cityscape empties out, and soon, you are in Pacifica, a seaside outpost that feels both remote and right down the street.

我在一个清新、活跃的东湾早晨离开了家,优美山脉和士绅化街区被笼罩在浓雾或是山火的烟雾里,或者是两者皆有——近来一般是两者皆有——前往一个通往旧金山半岛的大桥,我在叹气的同时又感到欢欣鼓舞。沿着1号公路开了差不多15分钟,这座海湾边的城市就变成了带着乡间风情的海滨小镇,右手边大海渐渐映入眼帘,都市风光没了。很快,你就到了帕西菲,这是一个海边的偏远城市,给人感觉又偏僻,又不是很遥远。

But this time, I skipped Pacifica for a new (to me) stop, in Pescadero, 30 miles farther south. I pulled away from the water and into the tiny town, wandering the main road waiting for Duarte’s, its 124-year-old tavern and restaurant, to open for lunch. The coffee shop across the street was playing a weird old movie in a nine-seat theater tucked in the back. Arcangeli, a grocery store and deli a block down, sells fresh-baked cookies bigger than my face, and I ate one.

但这一次,我跳过了帕西菲卡,再向南30英里来到新的(对我来说)一站——佩斯卡德罗。我远离大海,进到了小镇里,在主街上等着拥有124年历史的小酒馆兼餐馆Duarte’s开门,我好去吃午餐。街对面的咖啡店的后面塞下了一个有九个座位的小电影院,里面放着一部奇怪的老电影。一个街区以外的百货店兼熟食店Arcangeli卖的新出炉的曲奇比我脸还大,我吃了一个。

When I did finally walk into Duarte’s, which I never would have done if a friend hadn’t tipped me off, I ordered a swirl of the cream of artichoke and cream of green chile soups. It’s not on the menu — I was additionally tipped off just that morning by the same friend. This stretch of coast is frequently, as it was that day, hugged by chilly overcast, and I heard every local around me order the same. The sourdough bread from a bakery a bit north in Half Moon Bay that the restaurant serves hot was as good as any I’ve had on Fisherman’s Wharf.

当我终于走进Duarte’s(要不是有朋友介绍,我是不会来这里的)时,我点了一大堆洋蓟奶油浓汤和绿咖喱。这道菜不在菜单上——这也是那个朋友在那天上午透露给我的。和那天一样,这一段海岸线往往阴云密布,略有凉意,我听到周围的每个当地人都点了一样的菜。这家餐馆供应的酸面团面包来自于半月湾北边一点的一家面包房,不比我在Fisherman’s Wharf吃过的任何一款差。

There’s a goat dairy in town, with a tasting shop. Eight miles south, there’s Pigeon Point, one of the West Coast’s tallest lighthouses. There’s the famous old-timey, roller-coaster-and-arcade-studded boardwalk at Santa Cruz 30 miles past that, and plentiful beaches and parks along the way. I opted for turning off the 1 at Davenport Beach, its own bakery and roadhouse looking exploration-worthy for another time, and headed up to Big Basin Redwoods State Park, California’s oldest state park, because I had never been there, either.

镇子里还有一个羊奶场,里面有试吃店。往南八英里有鸽子岬(Pigeon Point),西海岸最高的灯塔之一。再过去30英里,有著名、充满怀旧感觉的圣克鲁兹海滩游乐场,木板路边有许多过山车和街机,一路上还有不少海滩和公园。我选择在达文波特海滩下1号公路,决定把这里的看起来值得探索的面包房和酒吧留给下一次,前往加州最古老的州立公园大盆地红木州立公园(Big Basin Redwoods State Park),因为我也从没去过那里。

I wound my car back to the ocean and rejoined the road alongside it, eyeing the options that arose: Moss Landing, with whale- and dolphin-watching boats. Monterey, of course, where my parents took us to the elaborate aquarium. Carmel-by-the-Sea, where I have only a vague memory of a street full of shops so fancy I couldn’t even really understand them. I continued straight to Big Sur.

我把车绕回到海边,重新开上沿海公路,一边打量着随之而来的选项:莫斯兰丁(Moss Landing),可以乘船观看鲸鱼和海豚;当然还有蒙特利,父母带我们去精美水族馆的地方;卡梅尔小镇(Carmel-by-the-Sea),那里我只依稀记得一条街上满是店铺,花哨到我甚至无法全然理解。我径直朝着大苏尔(Big Sur)走去。

Big Sur. The sound of it, even; the brevity and weight of both words. A road between rock faces, one side rising up and one sheer down — amid a cloudscape, it looks like, when the fog hangs low over the water and it seems like you’re driving above the sky. Or, when the haze is thinner, and blurs the line between water and air on the horizon, like you’re driving next to infinity.

大苏尔。就冲它的发音,词语两部分的简洁与厚重。一条路在岩壁之间延伸,一侧向上攀升,另一侧陡直向下——在云景之间。当雾低悬水面,它看上去好似你正行驶在天空之上。或者,当雾变薄,模糊了海平面上水气的界限,又好似你正在驶向无极。

Tucked among trees on the landside is Deetjen’s, a 1930s-era National Register of Historic Places-designated inn, a rambling collection of dark-wood structures with thin walls and entirely varying rooms inside. The map of the property that guests are given at check-in lives in a frame in my house, from one of several stays; the room I booked this time had a shared hall bath, a twin bed and a kitchen sink. After dinner in the restaurant, I lay down and read one of the room journals that guests are invited to write in. A recent entry was from an elderly man on the precipice of a “scary and exciting” move alone to a new state, where he said he had no context. He also said that he left a joint in the teapot. I looked up and saw it sitting on a ledge. When I opened it, it was stuffed full of wishes written on scraps of paper.

掩映在陆地一侧林木中的是地杰(Deetjen’s),一家列入《美国国家史迹名录》(National Register of Historic Places)的1930年代小旅馆,一系列乌木结构的薄墙房子,内部房间风格迥异。在几次入住的其中一次领取的旅馆地图,如今已在我的家中裱起;这次我预定的房间有一间共享的门厅浴室、一张双人床和厨房水槽。在餐厅用完晚餐后,我躺下翻开了客人可以在上面留言的房间手账。近期的一条来自一位年长男子,他写下了独自前来一个从未到过的州感到“既害怕又兴奋”,他说对这个地方一无所知。他还说在茶壶里留了一个大麻烟卷。我抬头向上看,瞧见它在壁架上。当我打开时,发现里面塞满了写着各种心愿的纸条。

I SET MY ALARM FOR MIDNIGHT. I drove, in the dark, down the 1 to Esalen, a nonprofit institute with workshops and lodging that opens its cliffside hot springs to anyone who books one of the limited $35 spots online fast enough when same-day registration opens at 9 a.m. The thing is: The spots are only available from 1 to 3 in the morning. The process of waiting by the side of the road and being rounded up and registered and led onto the property was not particularly warm or welcoming. But in the clothing-optional, open-air stone tubs, where the lighting is very dim and the crash of the waves far below is loud, the feel of it did melt off some as I soaked, breathing in eucalyptus, salt, redwood, pine.

我把闹钟定到半夜12点。驾车在黑暗中沿1号公路向南开到伊莎兰(Esalen),一个有工作坊和住宿的非营利学院。它位于峭壁边的温泉任何人都可以享用,只要你能在当天早9点开放登记时快速在网上预定到它的35美元限量浴缸。问题是:浴场只在凌晨1点至凌晨3点开放。在路边等候,随后被集拢到一起去登记然后被领入浴场的过程可不是特别温暖或热情。但在这里衣裸随意的石头浴缸里,灯光幽幽照着,远处的下方传来波涛撞击的巨响,那种感觉的确会融化掉一些不适,我浸泡着,空气中满是桉树、盐、红杉和松树的气息。

I opted for a daylight version of the same view — ocean forever — on the giant deck at Café Kevah for breakfast the next morning. I could talk for hours about what I did as I continued south that day: stopped at the 80-foot, roadside McWay Falls. Stood in an exhibit on Pelton wheels (a type of water turbine) at Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park. I took the steep and mildly dangerous footpath down to an abandoned beach at Ragged Point Inn and Resort and decided to strip down to my underwear and plunge into the sea. I pulled off the side of the highway to watch, with a group of other travelers, a pod of dolphins apparently mating below.

我选择了这同一片景致的白天版本——永远的大海——次日早晨在咖普拜咖啡馆(Café Kevah)的巨大露台上用早餐。对于那天接着往南做了些什么,我可以说上好几个小时:在路边80英尺高的麦克威瀑布(McWay Falls)旁驻足;在茱莉娅·菲佛·伯恩斯州立公园(Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park)看了佩尔顿轮(一种水轮机)展览;在崎岖点酒店度假村(Ragged Point Inn and Resort)沿着陡峭且略显凶险的步道向下走到一片废弃的海滩,然后决定脱到只剩内裤,一头扎进海里。之后,我在公路旁侧停下车,和其他游客一起,观看下面一群显然在交配的海豚。

At a beach near Point Piedras Blancas, hundreds of elephant seals were lying around or playing, some of them 16 feet long and 5,000 pounds. I waved at Hearst Castle as I passed it, high on the hill to my left — a place I did visit with my parents, where the tiles of the Roman pool room glitter with real gold. I witnessed a 600-foot, 23 million-year-old volcanic remnant, visible for 10 miles, rising in the distance in Morro Bay. I parked at the foot of it, where otters were floating around in the water right in front of me, their little hands rubbing their faces, rubbing their chests, holding each other as they tumbled, a stuffed-animal dream come to life.

在彼德拉斯布兰卡斯角附近的一处海滩上,数百只象海豹或躺着或嬉耍,其中一些身长近5米,重达2吨多。经过赫斯特城堡的时候,我冲它挥手致意,它位于我左边的高山上——我和父母去过那里,那里的罗马室内泳池的瓷砖金光闪闪。我看到一座180多米高、2300万年前的火山遗迹,隔着十五六公里开外的距离,都能看到它从莫罗湾升起。我把车停在它的脚下,水獭就在我面前的水面游来游去,它们的小手在自己的脸上、胸上揉擦,翻滚的时候拥抱在一起,仿佛一个毛绒玩具有了生命一般。

Plans change. Landscapes change. Perilously, climates change.

计划在变。风景在变。危险的是,气候也在变。

BEFORE THIS TRIP, THE LAST TIME I had been on the 1 was three springs ago, revisiting with my then husband, after we had moved away from the Bay. One morning, I found myself alone behind the wheel at a sharp curve in Big Sur with a strong enough urge to drive off it that I realized I needed to change my life. Within a year, I had separated. Within another, I was finalizing plans to move again, to find my way back, to the state.

在这次旅行之前,我最后一次走1号公路是三年前的事情,跟我当时的丈夫故地重游——那时我们已经搬离了湾区。一天早上,我发现自己正一个人开着车,走在大苏尔的一处急转弯,心里有一股冲下海崖的强烈冲动,我意识到需要改变自己的生活。不到一年,我们分居了。又过了一年,我终于计划再次搬家,回去,回到加州。

It wasn’t just how you could die in California, on a famous bridge, that my father had taught me almost exactly 25 years ago. It was also how you could live. “Lot of gays here,” he had said our first morning in San Francisco, over breakfast in the hotel restaurant. I’d wondered, heart racing, if he had brought it up because he had seen two men holding hands on the sidewalk outside the window next to our table; trying not to leap out of my chair to look, I asked how he knew that. Both of my parents sort of shrugged. Everybody knows that.

我回去不仅是因为在加州,你可以在一座著名的大桥上死去——那是几乎刚好25年前,我父亲教给我的。也是因为在这里,你可以如何去生活。“这里好多同性恋,”有天早上,我们在旧金山入住的酒店的餐厅吃早餐时,他说道。我的心怦怦直跳,在想他说这句话是不是因为,他从我们临窗的桌子看见外面的人行道上有两个男人牵着手走过去;我尽量克制住从椅子上跳起来看的冲动,我问他是怎么知道的。我的父母只是耸了耸肩。每个人都知道。

It turned out to be my place for sanctuary, too. When I moved here in my late 20s, I drank too much, and built a career I barely could have dreamed, and got evicted by tech workers and had the time of my life and had to fight for it, too. Moving back a few months ago, in my late 30s, not just queer but also openly trans, I was new but rooted in a place that is capable of holding so much complexity. That expands the definitions of what’s worthwhile, building and maintaining a road on an ever-shifting stretch at an edge of the world. That is harsh and precarious and utterly nourishing. That understands how a person or a tree or a planet can be simultaneously burned out and voraciously alive; that gender can be a construct, and a spectrum, and a death sentence. That my path here was switchbacked but perfect, and that you don’t have to be born someplace for it to be home.

原来,这里也是我的庇护所。我在快30岁的时候搬到这里,我喝酒喝太凶,有了一个自己过去不敢梦想的事业,被涌入的科技业人士赶到别的地方住,度过了生命中最快乐的时光,也不得不为之奋斗。几个月前我回到这里,人近40,不仅是同性恋,而且还是一个公开的跨性别者,我是一个新人,但扎根于一个可以包容如此的复杂性的地方。这扩展了价值的定义,并且在世界边缘不断变化的路段修建、养护着一条公路。它艰苦,危险,又给人以滋养。它理解一个人、一棵树或者一个星球在被烧毁的同时,也可以贪婪地活着;它理解性别可以是一个构建,一个谱系,一种死刑。我在这里的道路充满曲折但完美,你不必非要以你出生的地方为家。

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