Camden, ME

I got up early today, in fact this was the earliest since I quit working. I was heading north along the eastern edge of Vermont long before sunrise. Then, when the sun did finally rise, it didn’t really rise. The sky was sort of misting and all the sun did was turn it a sort of milky grey. Nevertheless, I didn’t really want to stop and spend money on breakfast (this is becoming an expensive adventure) so I pulled off at a highway rest area and made oatmeal while trying to avoid eye contact with all the people who thought I was a freak for actually using the provided picnic tables. Also I was naked.

Just kidding, it was far too chilly for anything of that sort. I headed east across New Hampshire and just as I got into Maine, the sun finally came up. It was almost surreal. Most of the trees have turned their autumn colors and with the grey sky they just looked a little sad. Once the sun lit them up, however, wow. I mean, it was just like we’ve all seen in hundreds of photos and movies, but live and in person the colors were overwhelming. I took lots of photos, but of course they just look like all the other photos you’ve seen.

Now I’m camping in Camden Hills State Park and hopefully I’ll be up early enough to see the sun rise over the ocean. I love the ocean, I know lots of people say they love the ocean, but I really really love the ocean. Its almost a sexual love. Almost.

But seriously, as soon as I hit Belfast I drove through town and at my first whiff of the ocean I giggled. At the first glimpse of it a grin spread across my face that you couldn’t remove with a red-hot rusty spatula.

This campground actually has hot showers, which is a good thing. I’m gonna be visiting a friend in Boston tomorrow so it’d be nice if I didn’t reek of campfire (Truthfully, I kind of like that smell). So I’ll try out the showers (it’s a good thing I kept a few of those tiny bars of hotel soap) and then on the way down I’ll keep my eyes open for a Laundromat.

Wow, this may be the longest post I’ve yet done, sorry. But in my defense, the ocean does things to me. Also I’m an alcoholic (hey, if Mark Foley can use that excuse, I can too).

Brattleboro, VT

Some days you eat the road, some days the road eats you.

One of you commented earlier that they thought the point of this trip was to stop and smell the roses. Actually, there is no point to this trip, not in that sense anyway. A point is too close to a goal or an objective which implies the possibility of failure. This was successful the moment I pointed the car away from my apartment and pushed the pedal on the right. One thing about road trips is you can’t fight them. Each one takes on a spirit of it’s own and you must allow it to breathe a little. If you try to force it to be something, if you try to direct it, you kill it a little bit.

Every true journey is an interior journey. The physical travel is almost incidental. It’s only when you escape your surroundings that you see things clearly.

I-90

Well, drove from Wabasha, MN to the first Pennsylvania exit off of I-90 before I finally gave in to the sandman. Its important to know one’s limitations. Knowing when one is too tired to drive is a delicate thing. After many thousands of road trip miles I have learned the subtle warning signs. For example, when I begin reading highway signs out loud, I have a few hours of driving muscle left. Once I begin doing it in a British accent, it’s T-minus 59 minutes. When I start scolding myself in the voice of an angry southern motivational speaker (Dammit Ryan! Hands at 10 and 2, watch that semi over there, pay attention man!), that’s what I call my 2 minute warning – if I don’t bring the car to a stop within two minutes, it’ll probably be stopped in two and a half minutes whether I like it or not.

I’m in New England now, the plan is to get to Maine by tomorrow and head south from there. Unfortunately there is not much camping up here (most campgrounds are closed for the season) so I’m trying to speed up a little and get back west before I spend too much on motels.

Note: The photo is in West New York, thats Lake Erie in the back of the vinyard.

Chicago, IL

This is just sort of a midnight update. I woke up in Minnesota (as you probably know if you've been keeping up) and am now in Indiana, some days just feel like big mile days. Mainly I just wanted to post this picture of me in downtown Chicago. I sat for about 35 minutes just to pay an 80 cent toll on I-90, after that kind of delay I almost would have felt better paying 6 bucks, 80 cents was just sort of anti-climatic.

Also, I disabled the feature requiring you to be Blogger members in order to post comments, so now any of you can voice a word or two at your whim. I didn't even know it was requiring that (thanks MC), sorry.

Well, I better get back on the road, I want to be past Toledo long before sunrise, that is not a pretty city in daylight.