I'm going to try some online journaling I think. I've been bad at the moleskine lately, and so much has been happening! I'm beginning a new life (again) and there are so many things that I wish I could share with everybody, nobody, myself...
Anyhow, I'll start with some catch-up entries. Here are the moments that have stuck with me from my recent cross-country trip:
- I left Seattle in a fog. There were only a few lucid moments all the way through Oregon. I swear I caught a couple glimpses of the sun peeking through to the English Yorkshire dales though.
- Before long I began to settle into the renewing silence of such a long lone road trip. I watched the world fly by while I sat still and as usual it made me feel all full and solid, in the midst of a blurry changing world...and reminded me how important it is to hold onto a child-like curious bewilderment and fascination about this world, rather than letting myself be overwhelmed by the fatalistic helplessness that sometimes gets its fingernails caught the fabric of my shadow. I need to remember to sit still more often.
- Somewhere in Oregon I discovered how much Moses hates Dylan (the harmonica maybe?) but loves Nick Drake (the flute perhaps?)...I wonder if it reminds her of John? hmm. Nick Drake became my instant cat tranquilizer, and for future reference Nick Drake= instant Ruth tranquilizer too.
- In the morning, I crossed the California border into sudden sunshine. I had to go through "customs". what? Really. Who does California think it is? It's own country? They did a looksee at my car to make sure I wasn't smuggling any of that Oregon fog over their precious border.
- I drove in curliques through the redwood national forest (with angry cats plastered to alternating windows). sorry guys. Big trees make me remember I am so very small.
- A while later I rode my old 1951 schwinn beach cruiser...ALONG THE BEACH in Crescent City, and out to the end of the longest pier I'd ever seen. I had a great view of a rocky outcropping with a little white house on it. I sat and watched the tide come rolling in over the driveway stranding the house on its very own island and, of course, I fell in love. I've always dreamed of living stranded on an island.
- I got "stuck" a day (or two) in San Francisco. It could have only been more Philip Pullman if everything ran off of steam and I was riding a polar bear. Explanation: There were all of these odd Industrial Revolutionary transportation machines run by men spinning wheels and throwing these 6ft long levers. There was a store which sold golden compasses as well as exotic plants, ornate magnifying glasses, guides for identifying specters, owl pellets, and antique maps. I had a tiny hotel room with a giant window and a clawfoot tub on the third floor of a building about 12ft wide by a mile deep. The room was on the 3rd floor down the coolest/creepiest winding dark carved mahogany hallway. Also, there was a factory of sourdough alligators, and a friendly wise old man who kept walking by me at the streetcar stop, with a different record in his hands each time (which he would show to me and ask if I'd ever listened to, then continue on his way, again.)
- And in Southern CA...I saw Silhouettes of strange prickly people raising their many arms against the background of a setting Mojave sun. I think they were needling new holes in the sky, because I have never seen as many stars as I did that night.
- In AZ I spent 7 hours riding a mule named Maggie down into the watercolored grand canyon, and back up. The grand canyon is nothing like the pictures. You have to see it in real life, but it won't feel real when you are there because it just can't possibly be real. I was really riding my mule on mars. I'm sure of it. Anyhow, My guide was a cowgirl from Michigan with two long dark glossy braids and fringed chaps. Her x-fiance was from the same nowhere in the Upper Penninsula as my grandparents, and she about led us over the edge when I said they were from "L'anse". Also, I was riding in front of an elderly British lady who was in the states with her "walking club". It was their day off of walking, so she decided to take a mule. Her mule was named Henry. Henry and my Maggie did not get along, and had a particularly bad spat over who should get to eat the apple out of my boxed lunch.
- in NM I drove by the mountain outside of Albuquerque that my dad and I climbed on my 13th birthday. I still distinctly remember what it felt like to look out from that mountain and realize I am watching the sun set on my childhood. It felt remarkably like it feels to drive by 15 years later and watch the sunset on my entire youth. (Over dramatic, I know but thats the way it goes)
- I did my usual highway antique store tour...but along route 66. I got no kicks...but I did get a hand thrown yellow ceramic tea set, and another 3 offers on my bicycle.
- I spent one really scary night driving through the ozarks.
- In St. Louis there were "Life and Love and Death" talks in the wee hours of the morning over homeade Biscotti (dipped in our wine) with my italian Nonna, at her new retirement home. She lovingly describes the place as a cross between a cruise ship and a college dorm, with all the planned social outings...and friends that sneak down the hall at night to play pranks. Also, she has a complete crush on the "Italiano", a widower down the hall, but she will never ever go for him because he has birds...so it would OBVIOUSLY never work. (hmmm...why does that way of thinking feel so familiar...)
- In Lexington KY I spent an evening kid-wrestling with Ryan Mays' extended family (5 of which are under the age of 5). I haven't hung out with children in a very very long time, and I realized I have no idea what to do with kids who cant talk yet. I dont think I really like them until they can talk...but they are my favorite thing ever once they can. After the kid party there was much more (much needed) "Life Love and Death" talk well into an enourmous breakfast and beyond.
- Back in familiar territory now I had a not-so-scary night of driving through PA. I called an old music biz buddy at 3am for old times sake (We all used to call each other to stay awake on late driving nights). We reminisced about touring adventures on i-81, and the legendary Strive (my band) vs Reliant K (Katy Perry's x's band) foodfight that took place while crossing the tappanzee bridge. It came to an abrupt halt when we got hit with a chocolate cake on our windshield. I had to pull over to wipe it off. does that mean we lost?
- I booked it back to Boston stopping at every Dunkin Donuts I could, and consuming copius amounts of Cape Cod brand salt and Vinegar chips. (Which I am now qualified to say, are the best in the country.) I got home just in time for a pre-thanksgiving thanksgiving dinner with my Mom, Dad, and little Sis, the day before she shipped off to BOOT CAMP. That night I slept in my own bed for the first time in 1.75 years. It took me a good week to get back out of it.
So that was my trip, or at least, the parts of it that I remember in particular. It is certainly nice to be back in the land of the best worst drivers in the world, where a well-executed cut-off commands respect instead of entire torsos hanging out the driver-side window shrieking... back where city women wear ice-pick heels all winter, where people say what they damn well think of you, lobster is a food group, and where 1850 is most certaintly NOT ancient history.
Farewell dear Seattle! We had (some) grand times, but I think we both knew it was just never going to work out. I'll remember you fondly and wish you the best this world has to offer.
In bewilderment,
Ruth
