Road Trip

You can’t have a road trip without some time travel. This would be like having pizza without the sauce, winter without a wood stove or fire place, or a rock concert without musicians. You must stop and see old friends along the way.  Before I get to today, let’s start with yesterday.  We left our hotel - Holiday Inn and Suites, somewhere in Ohio,  not far from Pittsburgh- around 9:30/10:00AM. Destination Detroit  Yesterday’s Playlist included:  My City Was Gone by Pretenders; Ohio by the Black Keys; The Heart of Rock n’ Roll by Huey Lewis; Look at Miss Ohio by Gillian Welsch; some Motown (various artists), and some REM (because why not). Once we arrived at the Trumbull-Porter Hotel in Detroit around 2:45 (lots of bathroom stops along the way), my friend Allison, who I have not seen in 31 years, met us at the courtyard of the hotel. John Mark kindly hung out with Nora and Hazel at the hotel for a couple hours, and I went with Allison to have a bite to eat and a d...

 We’re off. 3:00PM, we picked up Nora from Briggs camp- perfectly planned, because we obviously can’t adopt any pets before a road-trip. After Walmart (for some last minute supplies), the gas station, and Starbucks (all in Martinsburg), we are now en route. It’s 5:15. Not sure where we are staying tonight. Likely somewhere just west of Pittsburgh. Detroit is the plan for tomorrow- and a visit with a friend I have not seen since the summer after my senior year of high school!

“Often what we most romanticize – sailing a boat in the deep blue seas, old homes, patriarchy, and family road trips – are at their core, oppressive, dark, and often dangerous. One might get seasick, trapped under a leaky roof, stuck with a man in a bad marriage (and then some). There might be breakdowns.” This was the start of a blog entry to a trip that never happened. Not yet, anyway.. That trip was going to be with my current immediate family – John Mark, Nora, and Hazel – and my mom and my uncle Jimmy. It was a trip to visit gravesites of our ancestors, which would have taken us up through WV, into Ohio for a short bit, down through Kentucky, and into Tennessee. Then Covid hit. So, we missed the trip. Vomit and breakdowns included!  I guess you never know what can happen - which I suppose is the danger and beauty of writing your script ahead of time. We are going west….keep posted😊. Footnote: I typed  this On Sunday, to post today. We’re off!

 

This is a list from the notes in my phone. It is unedited, and not yet complete. So please refrain from letting me know that I have written the same item twice on the list. And also that I have left some things off of my list. This means you, mom:>   Trip list: Book of reservations  Walmart: All of the stuff in the bags that you ordered from Amazon for this trip I-n95 masks Sunscreen  Insect repellent  Eyeglasses Small computer Nail clippers Gallon of water Backpacks Camel packs Laundry detergent  Sleep masks Razors Deodorant  Eye drips Phone chargers Running band Make up Dental floss Books to read Drawing stuff Board games Hand lotion Back packs Possible cooler (Iggloo) and outside games (can get these at Marshall’s, too Tooth brush and toothpaste, shampoos, conditioner spray  First aid kit- bandaids, thermometer, Tylenol, Motrin, throat lozenges, pulse oximeter Sheets and pillows ...

I am stuck in the purgatory between thought and action. In my case now, this in-between place is manifesting in my making lists. These are the type lists that are never ending; the type of lists that becomes trees, with many branches; the type of lists that keep going and going…. prolonging my packing. It’s just that two weeks on the road, away from work and home, feels a bit like reckless abandon. And I suppose my list making - as opposed to the act of just throwing two weeks of our lives into suitcases - might be serving to mitigate the discomfort of my perceived recklessness. And might be providing me with some sense of emotional preparation. A part of me feels like there should be a ritual – running around our house and kissing the ground five times, maybe – to help honor this act of leaving our home and heading out west for a while. To create more of a space between the transition of home and adventure, between belonging and longing. Leaving people and places, transitions in gen...