somehow our saturday departure went off without a hitch. we picked up the truck at 8am like we were supposed to - having literally just finished packing up the last of our stuff and sneaking in a couple of hours of restless sleep when it was time to venture down to the penske pick up place. we made it back to greenpoint. pete, the first of our amazing helpers already there and waiting for us, the other 2, graham and thayer, right on his heels, and anna not too far behind those. we dove in and got started immediately. it was as seamless and painless as possible for the sheer volume of miscellaneous stuff the two of us possess: the furniture, clothing, instruments, art supplies, books, knick knacks, keepsakes, tools etc that two people can amass in 30 years (give or take) of life, it's somewhat mindblowing. we had aimed to be on the road at noon. and we were on the road just a little after noon. we almost immediately hit a wall of traffic on the bqe. i think the first mile of our 3500+ mile trip took nearly an hour. of course. and of course jersey is just a mess of highways and construction. the first part of the road trip was the kind of driving you'd rather go your whole life without having to do, let alone, attempting it in a 16 foot moving truck. oh well. what's the point of complaining? it is what it is and exactly what we anticipated it would be. eventually we got through the tangle of new jersey and saw the signs for the delaware water gap. oh my. who knew that pennsylvania was so beautiful? okay, lots of people, like ryan who has driven through it many times and all the people who live there, all the people who travel there to see it and camp in it and experience it, all the people who have passed through pennsylvania on road trips of their own. but the point is i had no idea. and i'm the one writing this post and isn't blogging the most self-centered, self-serving form of communication out there? so aren't i just following the nature of the beast by throwing out sweeping generalizations based on my own narrow world view and life experience? so, like i said, who knew pennsylvania was so beautiful?? i was really struck by its hills and mountains and trees and rivers and farms. the poconos, man, they are some really pretty little mountains. (don't tell north dakota, but sometimes biggest doesn't mean best). these crazy crowded mountain sides that look like they are exploding with life. the trees - deciduous and coniferous alike, all mixed in together, fighting for the sun, their lifeline, that chlorophyll fix that will let them keep doing their thing til we come in and cut them down to subsidize our crazy cruel out of control needs - growing out and not just up. having just been in washington for a wedding at mt rainier, i was astounded by how differently these trees played their hand at survival. instead of tall and symmetrical reaching higher and higher into the sky in an orderely fashion, these trees gave their branches and leaves full persmission to go in any direction possible in order to get around above beyond their neighbors and stick themselves into the line of the sun. it was full and fat and bursting and chaotic and beautiful. and i knew it was just the tip of the iceberg in terms of what we would see. and that rendered me more or less speechless. within a few miles of the trip commencing i went to a place where i felt like i couldn't even blink and that no matter how hard i tried, i couldn't look hard enough at everything. even when there was nothing. for as far as the eye could see. i was mesmerized. it was a full on act 3 emily moment (*thornton wilder's "our town" reference for those who have no idea what i'm referring to). i was a fairly boring co-captain for most of the trip - my breath taken from me, my tongue tied, my jaw on the floor...i was not much for communication. too much to process. too much i was afraid i would miss. i did a lot of staring out the window. a lot. over 3500 miles we logged in that truck, and though we split the driving pretty equally, that still leaves a lot of time that i was in the passenger's seat. and still, i did not sleep for a single minute in that truck the entire time.
ohio and indiana are horrible. (sweeping generalization based on my own narrow world view & life experience). or at least the parts of them that we drove through are more or less horrible. we did the eastern, more industrial half of ohio on saturday night. night is probably a pretty good time to undertake such a boring and unimpressive drive. we had left our end point for the first day open. we knew that anywhere between bellevue, oh and maumee, oh would make driving from ohio to green bay, wi possible on sunday. and so we were feeling tired but confident and pushed on past bellevue with the plan to stop and spend the night in sandusky, more or less the midpoint between bellevue and maumee and it would have meant checking into a motel in the 10-11p timeframe, which seemed like a good end to the first day and enough time to sleep a decent amount and hit the road around 8a the next morning. every single motel and hotel in the sandusky area was SOLD OUT. it's in the middle of nowhere ugly ohio and not even a best western or super 8 or econolodge has a single room open?! seriously? all these rooms in all these flea bag joints are filled with people who want to be here? what kind of twilight zone alternate universe have i fallen into? it's 11 o'clock at night and we are having to find this out by going parking lot to parking lot and inquiring. because, thank you at&t, my cell service is wonky at best and my 3g connection nowhere to be found. we are doing this old school. and there is no room at the inn. and, unlike mary, i am not into mangers. this takes a fair amount of time - motel hopping. and so we eventually get back on the ohio turnpike and keep going. silently hoping to ourselves that sandusky was a crazy fluke and maumee will take us in. it's ohio. it cannot possibly be that popular. right? so we finally reach maumee, out by toledo. it's almost 1a, which feels like 2a to us, since we are now in the central time zone. we get off the turnpike and stop at the first motel off the highway. it has a sign in the window "no vacancy tonight". at this point i think we might well spend our first night on the road in the truck. which, to be perfectly honest, the thought of sleeping in the truck does not bother me in the slightest, it's the crazy notion i have that automatically ties the vision of being awoken by some lunatic in a parking lot just before dawn who will steal all our money, violate me and leave us for dead into the scenario that makes me a little scared of it. luckily that fear was just overtired panic setting in and the days inn right behind the econolodge had a room available for us. it was everything you would expect a days inn motel in maumee, oh to be. right down to the continental breakfast room that by 8a looked as though it had been ransacked by raccoons with just donut wrappers and cereal crumbs and almost empty milk cartons remaining.
we had a pretty extensive collection of things that we kept in the giant cab of the moving truck with us. from things like snacks and cameras and books and whatnot that we needed access to to valauble things like laptops and hard drives that could be thrown in the back of the truck with the rest of our worldly possessions. and every time we got out of that truck for the day, we had to unload the cab so that there would be nothing to tempt would-be thieves. and every time we checked out of a place and got back on the road, we had to reload the cab. it was an intricate and increasingly tedious process. and so we reloaded the truck for the first of many times on sunday morning in maumee, oh and got back on the tigerbird trail. westward, ho!
ohio is depressing. the farms are somewhere between industrial and totally dilapidated, in disrepair with no sign of saving or mending anywhere to be found. some of the barns, the layout of the land, the poetry of the pastures is still quite pretty. but the melancholy feel of deterioration that is rampant most often overpowers any awe or nostalgia the landscape may invoke and leaves you heartbroken.
indiana is even worse. it's not pretty. it's not special. it's just a state we had to get through so we could go up through chicago and into wisconsin. and so we did.
oh chicago. i have such a weird connection to that city. it being where my father died. and then the new years trip with anna and colleen and spoon a few years ago. it's so familiar and so foreign to me. it was pretty scary to drive through it in a 16 foot truck. even though at this point i had long gotten over just how scary it is to drive a 16 foot truck. IT'S SCARY. it's big, it's unruly, it has blind spots up the ying yang, it's hard to judge, and to the very end i never lost the phantom pain-like urge to use the non-existent rearview mirror. but after cruising through the end of ohio and straight through indiana, even with a little rain and a lot of construction, i was not intimidated by that mammoth machine that was our ride. but, then, all of a sudden, there we were in a city, on a crazy highway with wall to wall traffic and infuriating jams and delays, and, at some point, as i was watching the front left corner (we had a little aligment trick and if you could line up your front left corner with the lane line on your left you were fine for space on the passenger side) and making sure i was keeping that lined up and paying attention to the impatient fed up drivers who were bailing from that lane into mine, my passenger side mirror and the driver side mirror of a giant blue 18 wheeler, who arguably was spilling over into my lane anyway, met face to face and made out. his mirror pinned my mirror back against the penske and then, when he was done with her, pushed on and released her back into place, which made a popping sound that will probably haunt both ryan and myself until the day we die. and in the mix of her freeway rendezvous, the lower side view mirror, the fisheye one, popped clean off and fell to the asphalt below. our first road casualty. the sound was terrifying. the startle was nearly lethal. the damage was minor and minimal. and i had no choice but to keep driving. we were in the middle of at least a 4 lane highway in a slow moving traffic jam. i was shaking and crying, totally startled, totally freaked out, totally embarassed. i felt like such an idiot, having busted the truck within the first 48 hours of the trip. and in such a stupid accident. and so, yeah, chicago was not a highlight of the trip. clearly chicago hates the hendersons - first it kills my dad, now it busts my moving truck. it makes me wonder what i did there in a past life...but who has time to figure that crap out and what can i do about it now anyway, except to cross my fingers each time i'm in chicago and pray i come out alive? and so we pressed on and, without further collision, we made it to wisconsin, a far kinder and gentler and more welcoming landscape. oh wisconsin, where we got to have one of the most wonderful weeks of our lives together. and got a break from the penske prison for a few days. oh, little did we know when we stopped in wisconsin just how real things would get with the penske as time pressed on and the miles and engine and brake wear and tear added up...but that's all later. now it's time for some quality time with the smiths.
ohio and indiana are horrible. (sweeping generalization based on my own narrow world view & life experience). or at least the parts of them that we drove through are more or less horrible. we did the eastern, more industrial half of ohio on saturday night. night is probably a pretty good time to undertake such a boring and unimpressive drive. we had left our end point for the first day open. we knew that anywhere between bellevue, oh and maumee, oh would make driving from ohio to green bay, wi possible on sunday. and so we were feeling tired but confident and pushed on past bellevue with the plan to stop and spend the night in sandusky, more or less the midpoint between bellevue and maumee and it would have meant checking into a motel in the 10-11p timeframe, which seemed like a good end to the first day and enough time to sleep a decent amount and hit the road around 8a the next morning. every single motel and hotel in the sandusky area was SOLD OUT. it's in the middle of nowhere ugly ohio and not even a best western or super 8 or econolodge has a single room open?! seriously? all these rooms in all these flea bag joints are filled with people who want to be here? what kind of twilight zone alternate universe have i fallen into? it's 11 o'clock at night and we are having to find this out by going parking lot to parking lot and inquiring. because, thank you at&t, my cell service is wonky at best and my 3g connection nowhere to be found. we are doing this old school. and there is no room at the inn. and, unlike mary, i am not into mangers. this takes a fair amount of time - motel hopping. and so we eventually get back on the ohio turnpike and keep going. silently hoping to ourselves that sandusky was a crazy fluke and maumee will take us in. it's ohio. it cannot possibly be that popular. right? so we finally reach maumee, out by toledo. it's almost 1a, which feels like 2a to us, since we are now in the central time zone. we get off the turnpike and stop at the first motel off the highway. it has a sign in the window "no vacancy tonight". at this point i think we might well spend our first night on the road in the truck. which, to be perfectly honest, the thought of sleeping in the truck does not bother me in the slightest, it's the crazy notion i have that automatically ties the vision of being awoken by some lunatic in a parking lot just before dawn who will steal all our money, violate me and leave us for dead into the scenario that makes me a little scared of it. luckily that fear was just overtired panic setting in and the days inn right behind the econolodge had a room available for us. it was everything you would expect a days inn motel in maumee, oh to be. right down to the continental breakfast room that by 8a looked as though it had been ransacked by raccoons with just donut wrappers and cereal crumbs and almost empty milk cartons remaining.
we had a pretty extensive collection of things that we kept in the giant cab of the moving truck with us. from things like snacks and cameras and books and whatnot that we needed access to to valauble things like laptops and hard drives that could be thrown in the back of the truck with the rest of our worldly possessions. and every time we got out of that truck for the day, we had to unload the cab so that there would be nothing to tempt would-be thieves. and every time we checked out of a place and got back on the road, we had to reload the cab. it was an intricate and increasingly tedious process. and so we reloaded the truck for the first of many times on sunday morning in maumee, oh and got back on the tigerbird trail. westward, ho!
ohio is depressing. the farms are somewhere between industrial and totally dilapidated, in disrepair with no sign of saving or mending anywhere to be found. some of the barns, the layout of the land, the poetry of the pastures is still quite pretty. but the melancholy feel of deterioration that is rampant most often overpowers any awe or nostalgia the landscape may invoke and leaves you heartbroken.
indiana is even worse. it's not pretty. it's not special. it's just a state we had to get through so we could go up through chicago and into wisconsin. and so we did.
oh chicago. i have such a weird connection to that city. it being where my father died. and then the new years trip with anna and colleen and spoon a few years ago. it's so familiar and so foreign to me. it was pretty scary to drive through it in a 16 foot truck. even though at this point i had long gotten over just how scary it is to drive a 16 foot truck. IT'S SCARY. it's big, it's unruly, it has blind spots up the ying yang, it's hard to judge, and to the very end i never lost the phantom pain-like urge to use the non-existent rearview mirror. but after cruising through the end of ohio and straight through indiana, even with a little rain and a lot of construction, i was not intimidated by that mammoth machine that was our ride. but, then, all of a sudden, there we were in a city, on a crazy highway with wall to wall traffic and infuriating jams and delays, and, at some point, as i was watching the front left corner (we had a little aligment trick and if you could line up your front left corner with the lane line on your left you were fine for space on the passenger side) and making sure i was keeping that lined up and paying attention to the impatient fed up drivers who were bailing from that lane into mine, my passenger side mirror and the driver side mirror of a giant blue 18 wheeler, who arguably was spilling over into my lane anyway, met face to face and made out. his mirror pinned my mirror back against the penske and then, when he was done with her, pushed on and released her back into place, which made a popping sound that will probably haunt both ryan and myself until the day we die. and in the mix of her freeway rendezvous, the lower side view mirror, the fisheye one, popped clean off and fell to the asphalt below. our first road casualty. the sound was terrifying. the startle was nearly lethal. the damage was minor and minimal. and i had no choice but to keep driving. we were in the middle of at least a 4 lane highway in a slow moving traffic jam. i was shaking and crying, totally startled, totally freaked out, totally embarassed. i felt like such an idiot, having busted the truck within the first 48 hours of the trip. and in such a stupid accident. and so, yeah, chicago was not a highlight of the trip. clearly chicago hates the hendersons - first it kills my dad, now it busts my moving truck. it makes me wonder what i did there in a past life...but who has time to figure that crap out and what can i do about it now anyway, except to cross my fingers each time i'm in chicago and pray i come out alive? and so we pressed on and, without further collision, we made it to wisconsin, a far kinder and gentler and more welcoming landscape. oh wisconsin, where we got to have one of the most wonderful weeks of our lives together. and got a break from the penske prison for a few days. oh, little did we know when we stopped in wisconsin just how real things would get with the penske as time pressed on and the miles and engine and brake wear and tear added up...but that's all later. now it's time for some quality time with the smiths.
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