Westward and Whimsical

 - Soaking up America- 

             Part 1

  There is a certain time in ones life where you just have to see something, do something, go somewhere; where the sense of adventure is more overpowering than the sense of security and comfort.  I've hit that wall, tried to dig under it with no success and now I've peeked my little eyes over the top edge and it's time to climb over.  At the ripe old age of 30 I figured it's about time to see this country, to drive across the great divide, from the coast of Maine to the coast of sweet California, through the guts and morrow of this strange, beautiful problematic country.  My plan is to slowly wonder and wiggle my way through New York, into the smokey mountains, down into New Orlenes, over to Texas, New Mexico, Arizona and into Sothern California; but those are just general plans and holding too close to ones plans can lead to a narrow road and blacked out windows.  As Steinbeck says "we do not take a trip, a trip takes us."  Anyway, It's just too perfect of a time, I've got no real job, or obligation, no earth quaking bills, no mortgage, and no kids (well, not that I know of).  The light is green and I must go, before it turns red.

In just a few days I've set on the calendar my date of departure, slowly starting out in a 1981 Mercedes Diesel Wagon, graciously temporarily donated by my dear father.  He takes great pride in his junk Mercedes collection, but this one in particular I think must be his real pride and joy, his dull fading pearl.  Never mind the impending dangers and safety of the person behind the steering wheel (his son); the condition and well-being of this pale yellow Wagon is nothing less than the precious perfections of a NASA spaceship to him.   But I'm honored to be behind the wheel of such a machine.

I've gathered up padding and books, a cooler for food (or beer), a shit ton of tea, a few bundles of sage, a crystal to engulf the car in warm protective energy for the journey (no sense not to have that, wouldn't we all want to be breezing through life with the spirit world dancing around us in its brilliant barbwire?), and of course my travel companion Pueo, a lively, talkative, handsome, quite intelligent Owl...that's actually a finger puppet.

Everyone has an opinion of this country, especially foreigners.  People talk of this country with great distain, and or appreciation.  Now, are they taking about America the government, or America the bi-partisan people, or America the actual physical country with its magnificent forests and mountains and deserts and lakes and rivers and rocks and plants and birds and moose and smells and light and sounds?  I've realized our opinions are mostly based off others opinions, or the news, or some other indirect source, and in order to fully have a sense of self, to have a strong  moral compass, one has to see for themselves, to experience the people and circumstances of a certain Time and Place.  And that is just what I'm setting out to do, a vital soaking with the sponge of the soul, clean across the country.