A Step to the Left - Notes from Day 2

We got up unnecessarily early and headed off, cutting through a large portion of the Midwest on our way to the golden coast.

This is a very good representation of the vistas we encountered on this leg of the trip. Some would say "lame" or "flat," but I thought it was relaxing. Coming from a town where there is no horizon, it was nice to see the old curve of the earth again.

We headed south west through the bottom corner of Wisconsin and headed over the ragging Mississippi in to Iowa. By the way, if you need gas, Iowa is the place to go. I'm not sure if I should have put ethanol into the Penske truck, but it seemed just fine (and it was hell-a cheep, that's right, hell-a).

My sister couldn't understand why I took a picture of the this silo... but I'm sure if you look closely you'll see what caught my eye.

Iowa was about as long as Pennsylvania, but much more pleasant. I guess it's hard to get mad at people when there are none around. Maybe I should have just stayed there?

The best part of Nebraska, the next state on our hit list, was the fields and fields (and fields) of sunflower fields (not shown here). They also have a lot of wind power towers. Pretty sweet. And this point, we're getting slightly blown out from driving... but we have oh so much more to go.

(Sunflower Fields shown here - very dark)

As the sun goes down we know we're getting close to the mountains, but there are none in sight. I guess that will be tomorrows prize.

We pull over the border of Colorado and into a Best Western and, after I back over a "no parking sign" with the truck, we pack it in for the night. Tomorrow, Colorado, Utah, Arizona, Nevada, and our new home, China 2 - I mean California.

Ending stats: 989 Miles

3 Penut Butter Sandwiches

Half a bag of oatmeal cookies

A half dozen handfuls of carmel corn

2 Kids from Wisconsin and 1 Moped from Japan

A Strike of Confidence

Is my confidence waining? Am I having second thoughts?

These are interesting (and exponentially depressing) topics to contemplate.

Just dealing with the idea of thinking about second thoughts confuses me - what does it all mean? Does it matter? Oh, dammit.

The current state of things out here on my new coast is most certainly on the up and up (depending on how you look at it). I have a few teaching gigs, I've meet a couple of new people, and I'm working on an interesting musical concept.

But it's fair to say my general expectations of this move, as well as my life, have been slightly unrealistic up until this point - but still, that thought seems horribly unambitious. I certainly could have been working harder to get gigs, put a band together, complete writing projects, and find teaching jobs, but if I did all those things would I know how to get to the beach? The grocery store? The Chipotle?

What's the point of moving to an interesting spot if your only goal is to continue on your current path?

(An inspiring picture to inspire you)

I see now that new goals are in order. New timetables must be installed. Creative execution should follow, and on and on, until, someday, somehow, something is achieved.

Now this sounds like a plan a man like me can get behind. And when I say plan, of course, I mean a plan to plan. Right. Great. Fine. ...engage.

Awesome.

The Secret Revealed

A Step to the Left - Pit Stop

On the second day, I rested. Or whatever.

On the unofficial second day of my journey (I say unofficial because there was no physical traveling), I took time to sleep a few hours and reorganize my life on wheels.

Aside from being a welcome rest for driver, it also ended up being something of a wonderland for my two turtles in a half-shell (turtle power). I can't say for sure, but I think it was their first experience with grass. It must be similar to southerners first time experiencing snow - with a little more burrowing.

What a trip it's been for them - from parts unknown, to China Town, to the Upper West Side, to a Wisconsin front yard, to... California (and all parts in between). I can't say they can tell the difference, and maybe for them there is none, but they liked the grass anyhow.

It was nice to see the house, and even nicer to see the folks. I said I didn't want a gathering or a dinner or any of those things my extended family seems to live for, but when the inevitable happened, it was nice.

After the party left and a short rain storm blew through (the last one I've seen for two and a half weeks), we reshuffled the load. I couldn't have imagined adding more, but we found a way. With two bikes, a bed, dresser, table, some lamps, a vacuum and a restored antique moped, no one was going to accuse me of traveling light. Oh, did I also mention I picked up a travel buddy? I did - my sister (and future roommate).

After plenty of unwelcome but helpful words of advice, we hit the hay (so to speak), and got ready for our 5 AM call to arms.