8/17-22: New York to Idaho- Doug

In a shitty spot and contemplating camping possibilities as the sun fell, I was having no luck when a 4-door Toyota with Vermont plates appeared out of nowhere, abruptly pulled over on the narrow shoulder, and waved me on. When the ragged driver asked where I was going I said, “Toward Erie” and when he shockingly replied, “no problem” I suddenly knew I would make it to meet my brother and, barring any ridiculous complications, Idaho and Oregon. Aim for Maine, land in Oregon? I am the sharpshooter.

Doug was quite tall, about my age, had longish curly hair, famiiar cheap monotone clothes, and judging by all the stuff, which included a large cardboard box full of open food cans laid out buffet-style, was traveling somewhere distant and gave an initial hippie impression. That generalization was woefully mistaken, but he would prove to be a powerful reminder of our ingrained, unavoidable duplicity. Doug had the rare combination of being supremely arrogant, full of anger, and at the same time painfully awkward. Assessments aside, it quickly became obvious that Doug was brilliant and suffered from the stereotypical social deficiency that often comes along with it. In many ways, he reminded me of a genetically engineered splice of a Slabber and the guy from Big Bang Theory!

8/6- 8/8: Santa Fe- Ithaca, NY

After spending June and most of July sequestered away in Michigan, and then another two weeks back in New Mexico, August's arrival sent me spiraling into "do something... anything" mode. Purely motivated by a lack of divine inspiration, I took aim for the last three of the lower-48 I'd yet to visit: Maine, New Hampshire, and Vermont and after a few days of mental wrangling I chose to forgo the 60-hour Greyhound Marathon to the Maine/ Canada border in favor of Craigslist's Rideshare.

Departure day was Friday the 6th with Elissa, a pleasant 60-something Latina from Santa Fe on her way to see family in Denver. She was almost the perfect Rideshare: no haggling over money, flexible on the departure, and drove fast with very few stops! It was quite uneventful, and entertaining in that I was treated to watching her drive AND smoke a bowl through Colorado Springs; skills I can only imagine!

6/21: Father's Day Surprise

It didn't take long to figure out what was going on behind the scenes while I lingered in this apparent state of limbo. Shelly and I had a candid talk on the way back to Michigan about my willingness to hang around and make myself available if there was some sort of solid, specific meeting set up. I was pretty clear however that, after 3- weeks, it was time to move forward and that I was mentally moving on. I was quite content with the effort she and I had put forth, and if nothing came out of it I could tell my kids I did everything I could when they asked about their grandfather.

Then, on Father's Day I received an excited call from Shelly saying that she had had a chat with our father, and that he had agreed to get together with the two of us. They had already set up the day, time, location. No more asking, speculating, or wondering... it was done. She had apparently called him to wish him a happy Father's Day and decided to try one last time. If I recall correctly, she explained that I was here backpacking, leaving relatively soon, had met Lynn's kids, and was going to make my way toward their house in Boise next to meet her. This fact appeared to pique his interest, and may have made him realize that I have been swimming awfully close to his feet, so to speak. It may have also made him understand just how much had gone on, presumably without his knowledge. I can't say for sure. All I can say is that Shelly's hard work had finally paid off... if he didn't cancel!

When I told my mother about this, and again tried to explain my attitude toward it (with limited success this time), she also pointed out that in all likelihood he has no idea of the effort I've put in due to the prevailing silence that runs thru the non- Shelly/ Lynn part of the family. Another factor may have been Skip. Kelle had told me the week before that he and my dad had sat down and had lunch just a day or two prior. This was the first conversation they had had in something like five- years, despite living in close proximity. Perhaps he's beginning to realize some things himself? Again, I don't know.

The overall feel of this meeting is much different than in 2000. If you tuned in late, that 20- minute conversation is the only contact we've ever had. At that time I was understandably nervous, and hoping to make a good impression. I thought the meeting went well, and at times could even be described as "warm" yet, ever since, there's been nothing. This time nerves are not a factor. It's almost as it was meeting Shelly a month ago: "It's about time." Rather than being preoccupied by impressions, the tables are turned. I hold no expectations beyond dinner, and consider it to be up to him to show that there's hope for a relationship that means anything. For once, I hope my cynicism is misplaced! Yet, I can't help but wonder if he's simply pacifying us to make Shelly's questions go away.

That being said, this is a big step for him and shows something. He could have easily continued to ignore the overtures and gotten off the hook one final time. The idea that he chose not to do that says a lot in and of itself, and I'm sure was not an easy thing to do. He has a great opportunity to lead and serve as an example to his kids and grand kids... almost all of which know the truth anyhow. We'll see how it goes.

6/16- 6/21: Pulling Roots

While the previous weekend was continuing to resonate strongly on one aspect of my psyche, the first part of the next week would batter yet another part. The flood of realizations would continue, and this time it was with a stark perspective on the environment in which I WAS raised. Chris had been fantastic as a sounding board for thoughts, ideas, and feelings since we had arrived but it was time to attempt to integrate my mother into this. When Shelly dropped us off for the week back in Hillsdale, I was primed for conversation; eager to share these new- found revelations with her and see where these talks would go.

They went nowhere.

I spent perhaps 20- minutes trying to discuss things with her before it became obvious that she is marooned on her own little island, completely unable to relate to these things beyond her own self- interest. At some point, she completely interrupted me in mid- sentence me to comment on a book Chris was thumbing through! That was that. I was done. At that moment is occurred to me that this has always been the case, I had just never recognized it; never knew any better. In retrospect, I had never been able to talk to her because she would throw personal information back in my face later on, or hijack the discussion to feed her Personal Drama Machine.

I've spoken alot about victimization lately and that's primarily out of a sense of familiarity. I understand it because I, at one time, was swimming in it. I still catch myself from time- to- time. I was now seeing where I learned it: My mother is a professional victim who never holds herself accountable for anything; another trait I had adopted as a young man. Throughout my stay here, our private conversations were inevitably taken to "how bad things are" trying to draw me into the Lamenting of Life.

Never was I provided a more clear example of this than on that Monday night, and with it came a flood of recollections, and yes... realizations. Rather than trying to understand the foundation of my discipline problems as a youth or alcohol abuse later on, it was always how my behavior made "her life more difficult." When she finally said something to the effect of, "There are things I'd like to say to your dad too!", I barked. I let her know that this ceased being about her decades ago, and she needed to just sit down and watch.

In a split second, our relationship changed. It's been slowly fading for a number of years, and I've been unable to be around her for more than an hour or two for the better part of a decade. There was a huge blowup back in 2005 that severely altered our interactions and completely ended my relationship with my sister. I couldn't, until that moment, however, understand what the cause was. I get it now. One of the best nuggets of wisdom I've ever received was from Brian after that 2005 episode. He succinctly pointed out that family is no different than ordinary people after a certain point. Sometimes you have to be willing to alter the relationship, or even sever ties when doing otherwise becomes intolerable. I have severed ties with one, and altered it with the other.

By Wednesday morning, it was exhausting to be there. I spontaneously decided to return to Shelly's Wednesday night to spend the rest of the week back in Ohio. I didn't see much going on, other than another couple of days letting Shelly relax, but that sounded better than the alternative. In retrospect, it never occurred to me to just... leave.

The rest of the week in Ohio was just as I expected. Alot of nothing! I was still mentally disconnected; for whatever reason still distracted by my own thoughts. When I returned to Bob's the following weekend, Chris had decided he was going to stay behind and explore various things in Toledo, and northern Ohio. The plan was that he would make his way back toward Hillsdale eventually, and we would figure out our plans from there. Just simply heading west now was oddly still not an option. I found that a bit strange, but the God's were again toying with me, using that Illusion of Limbo as the shiny toy to keep me occupied! It was all about to become VERY clear...

6/12- 6/15: "A Moment of Realization is Worth a Thousand Prayers"

Ben & Brad had insisted on coming to Shelly's house in Ohio on their way to the Detroit airport Friday to see her cats. Shelly had lived in Boise for a short of time and they had gotten to know Baz the Cat pretty well. There wasn't a lot of time, but having lunch was nice sendoff , and it was good to hang around them a bit more before they returned to Idaho. I let them know that Boise was on my list of places, and that I'd see them again before they went back to school in the fall.

My primary goal for this entire Michigan visit was to be sure that I left with no questions to be asked, even if the answers came via omission. I like to use the analogy "Water thru the Pipe". Put enough pressure behind it, you'll find the cracks. I intended to make myself as available as I could, and make every effort to allow people show their character; good or bad. A crystal- clear choice would be given, and we'd see what they'd decide.

Shelly was the catalyst for this, and unfortunately for her, she was also on its emotional roller coaster. She had been hoping to set up a couple of reunions over the weekend, still holding out hope for at least the two of us having dinner with our father. There was also new, rather unexpected hope surrounding our oldest brother, Skip. She had contacted Skip's wife, Kelle, and learned that she herself was considering trying to contact her own "long- lost" brother, who had been given up for adoption. Kelle was very interested in finding him, and since this was something that was happening in his own world at the same time, it seemed possible that Skip would be in the right mindset to meet me. Kelle agreed to chat with him, and as Saturday approached, we were waiting to hear the verdict.

This felt quite familiar, and it had a familiar ending. When Kelle relayed to Shelly that Skip "wasn't too keen on the idea" it set off a domino effect of realization. This was the final piece of the puzzle. I seemingly had everything I needed to finally begin drawing long- overdue conclusions, and they were based on reality as opposed to speculation. It would appear that despite the fact we share DNA, I had missed out on very little growing up other than an emotionally barren desert! Despite all the talk of "getting together" before I had left New Mexico I had heard nothing from Pam or Kim, and now had since been given a stiff- arm by both my father and brother. It was becoming clear who I was (or wasn't!) dealing with and, while painful on a base- level, it was also clear that I was indeed "the lucky one" to have been spared the baggage. Despite proclamations of "victimization" by my father's "inability to communicate and deal with them" they were themselves in fact that "mirror" of what they claimed to hate. That hypocrisy was blinding, and my questions about who these people are were finally being answered. At this point, I was totally unimpressed beyond Shelly, Lynn, and her boys.

Surprisingly, with this realization came a stunning freedom. With the bar set this low, it's much easier to take what I've gotten, move on, and attribute the disappointment to the simple fact that the rest suffer from an emotional, even human, deficiency that has nothing to do with me. It also further solidified another growing realization about the "American Dream" and the fairytale concept of "family" and, more importantly, "normal." We've been fed an idea that we're supposed to live up to the impossible standard of "Father Knows Best", "Little House on the Prairie", or any number of these other images of the happy, tranquil, "normal" little family. Some families function better than others, to be sure, but dig deep enough and I believe you'll ultimately see thru the illusions, walls, and fronts. Ward cheats on June, Wally likes Meth, and I'll bet the Beaver is a cutter. The wholesome, perfect family is wholesome, marketed bullshit. Worse yet, it's as unattainable as Barbie Doll physique.

These notions of "normal" result in outrageous expectations, and a sense of failure when you don't quite measure up. "Normal" is a Hollywood production that is marketed, then sold, to keep us chasing the unachievable: a faux idea of "happiness", and where it comes from while at the same time exploiting simple human imperfection and insecurity. I'll let you infer as to who benefits when the masses are chasing ghosts, and some will say that's cynical. I'd counter that quashing these "Notions of Normal" is liberating and the first steps toward freedom. It allows you to be happy with the best YOU can be and accept who YOU are. What better path to happiness and contentment than doing the best YOU can, accepting your faults, and telling "normal" to fuck off?

Another surprising realization was that with this acceptance came an unexpected level of forgiveness. I was disappointed, yet no one' s perfect. I believe that when we can accept the fact that every family unit, every human being is flawed, imperfect, and that "normal" doesn't exist, then we can on some level even APPRECIATE the flaws each of us have INCLUDING our own. In my case, I began to sympathise rather than feeling victimized and, after a day of self- pity, I felt some long- held anger finally begin to subside and that old- familiar hole actually begin to fill. I never understood the Buddhist philosophies on forgiveness and ego better than at the moment I realized this was happening.

I was also, for one of the very few times in my life quite proud of who I have become. I had shown courage and conviction in this case and had shown character that has been missing from the rest of that family, save Shelly and Lynn. I had offered myself up, risking the likelihood of another painful rejection, in a relentless pursuit for "Truth." Vitam Impendere Vero. "Facing fear is the beginning of wisdom." That Bertrand Russell!

I felt very bad for Shelly, however. It dawned on me (after my little pity- party, of course!) that she was taking this very hard. She knows her family is far from perfect, but I believe she had hoped that this month would provide an opportunity for some healing, and steps toward being a bit more of a functioning unit. With my father's unwillingness to have me at the BBQ, Pam & Kim's blatant indifference, and now Skip's failure to respond, she was resigned to the fact that it probably wasn't going to happen. Once I could see the forest thru the trees, I saw that she had shown an incredible amount of courage herself and risked many of the same feelings of rejection and failure that I had. She showed an extreme, rare character, and I hoped that she would take a sense of pride out of that. I myself was very proud to have her for a sister, even though in my self- absorbed, burnt out mental state, I was incapable of showing it very well!

The rest of the weekend was quite uneventful, as I typically isolated myself as I processed everything, and resisted the urge to write (vent) on it until the dust had settled in my mind. As the weekend concluded, I had a sense of closure and it began to feel as though I was ready to move on. To put a neat bow on everything, I sent a Facebook friend- request to the last remaining sibling, my younger brother Mike. He was the last one I had yet to contact, and I didn't want to say to myself later "what if."

The "Michigan Adventure" seemed to have played itself out, but we had made arrangements with Shelly to be around her place again the following weekend. That genuinely felt like overkill at this point, but there was still no clear path as to how else proceed. Chris and I decided to go back to Hillsdale for the week to goof around and see if there were more things that needed to play out-- as is usually the case when we seem to be in limbo. Sometimes, we need to sit down, shut up, and let other people live their lives for a bit! We did get a huge laugh when I started receiving pictures from Ben highlighting his flight home! He was, indeed, getting his $100 worth!

6/11: Three New Nephews

Shelly had not seen my mother since she was a little girl, and I was maybe a year- old. Our mother's had remained friends and had brought her, Lynn, and Skip to our house periodically after my mother and our father had parted company. There was never any indication given that I was anymore than "their mother's friend's kid" throughout their childhood. Shelly finally was let in on the fact when she graduated and my mother sent her a card with a "Santa Picture" of me. My mother had tried to get me to go to the ceremony, but at 10 there was no way I could. I'm not sure why to this day.

The plan for Thursday was to surprise Mom by having Shelly come up to say hi. It wasn't completely out of surprise nostalgia. I've cut ties with one of the sisters I was raised with and, since she lives in the area and my mother likes to subversively plan "coincidental visits", I wanted to be sure that there were no unexpected knocks while we were there. Despite the fact that I had made it quite clear I didn't want to see this other sister, I was not all that sure it would not happen anyhow, especially if she was planning on Shelly to be there. It was quite a nice little reunion. As I've mentioned, my mother has fond memories of Shelly and it appeared that they had quite a bit to talk about, although I am sure it was a bit odd for both! Chris and I ducked out for coffee to give them a few minutes to chat, and before long we were snapping pictures and heading toward Mosherville to do The Family Tour.

My grandmother was essentially the matriarch of this tiny hamlet north of Jonesville. Mary had been the post master, apparently owned alot of property, and ran the general store. It was neat hearing Shelly reminisce, adding to the fragmented information on her family's past that I had been given through the years. Our grandmother had known exactly who I was growing up, and we would cross paths occasionally, albeit rarely. The only significant memory I have of her is an event at the fairgrounds when I was 14 or so. She simply sat there, staring what seemed like daggers the entire time. Not my mother. At me. What stuck with me was that it wasn't as much disdain in her eyes as it was shock and perhaps realization. Judging by my resemblance to her son, there was probably no further doubt in her "old school" mind that, yes, I was her grandson. At least in the DNA sphere of things! I'm quite certain of this but, despite the obvious, we never had a single, solitary conversation before she died in 2001 or 2002.

Ben, 16, and Brad, 14, are Lynn's kids who were coincidentally visiting from Idaho and staying at their Grandmother Charlotte's house south of Quincy. They had only found out that they had another uncle the week before and, from what I heard, asked Lynn, "How can you have a brother that you've never met?" I thought that was a great, brilliantly simple question and apparently so did Lynn's husband. Dave suggested that they "ask their grandfather" when they got here! Although Lynn did not encourage such shenanigans, and I know next to nothing about Dave, I immediately began to like him! Shelly had made arrangements to meet the boys at Charlotte's house, then grab some food and make a trip to Angola, Indiana to meet her 24- year old son, Travis, at his place. Three new nephews in about 3- hours.

Ben and Brad have had some upbringing. As we walked into the living room, Ben stood up to greet me and shake hands. I was surprised and impressed by this considering the fact that he's just 16. Brad seemed a bit taken aback, and I felt a bit sorry for him. It had been quite a week for them considering they had also been reunited with "new" cousins and their Uncle Skip who had not been a part of their lives. I could genuinely empathize with him. These two had a different aire about them. They put off a completely different vibe. It's a vibe that I can't quite explain other than to say it lacked the "implied, silent negativity" that I'd grown accustomed to over 15- years of on- and- off dealings with Pam & Kim.

As we slowly became acquainted, the conversation turned to their airline experience. Ben is old enough to fly by himself, but Brad isn't. This meant that Lynn had to pay an extra $100 to have them chaperoned airline- style. This equates to be shoved in a little room between flights with a cooler full of Apple Juice, and the Disney Channel on a TV. Chris and I encouraged them to milk it for everything they could to get their $100 worth, including demanding a full tour of the airports, depriving the airline of ALL their Apple Juice, and getting some pictures of the cockpit. I suggested that Ben ask the pilot if he "liked movies about Gladiators" or if he had "been in a Turkish prison." The "Airplane!" references went over their heads, but Chris and I got a nice laugh out of it! Charlotte seemed unamused. Hopefully, she's seen the movie because that could have sounded a bit odd, but something tells me I would enjoy toying with Charlotte a bit anyhow!!

Angola is a quick 20- 30 minute drive from Coldwater, and we were to Travis' house by early evening with subs in hand. I had hoped we'd be able to connect while I was here. Travis is doing quite well for himself working as a FedEx driver, and has bought a house with his girlfriend in a little subdivision out in the Indiana countryside. They have a huge yard, and got it dirt cheap because of foreclosure. Travis is a big, quiet guy, but has a good sense of humor and a calm almost gentle demeanor about him. Also joining the party was Kirsten, Shelly's step- daughter from a previous marriage. Kirsten is a short (fun- sized according to her!), pretty, bundle of energy! Very outgoing and easy to chat with. I was glad that she took the time to come out there; I'm not sure the next time we'd all be in the same place!

All told, this was quite an experience. For the most part, I just quietly sat there watching taking in the scene, trying to appreciate the moment. It was interesting to think back just six- months and realize just how much has changed! I have added two sisters, three nephews, and in addition Shelly had been busy trying to contact my older brother, Skip, to see if he wanted to meet up Saturday. Shelly doesn't mess around!

The ride back to Delta was intermittently quiet... then chatty. I had begun to get a bit overwhelmed, especially during the "down times" when my brain goes guano. It was beginning to show. The mental fallout of the past 11- days had been staved by activity, but as this weekend in Delta would show, that was about to abruptly end.

6/2: Kalamazoo

Tuesday began as Monday had: Dropping Shelly at work, then hitting the road to Ann Arbor. We returned to her house so I could prepare Elmo for his demise; unpacking everything and repeatedly searching him to be sure I was returning only the pack! Not unlike leaving an apartment for the last time. During this process, I discovered that even if I had not found the new pack, I would have returned it because stitching had failed where a stabilizer strap meets the rubber fabric on the bottom. My good fortune was continuing.

We found "Sunshine" again working at REI, and a new day had done nothing for her demeanor. I just glared at her the entire time she struggled through the process of refunding my money. We normally will look around for a spell anytime we get to REI, but through all of this, we were ready to get to Bivouac. I figured the various other things I needed would be better purchased there. Plus we wanted to catch Pam before her shift ended at noon. We had a good time chatting with her and the other employees before heading to Whole Foods for mate' and Cliff Bars and returning to Ohio to prepare to meet my friends Brian & Joey in Coldwater that evening.

Once on the road back to Michigan, it was yet another trip down memory lane. Shelly took the Hillsdale County back roads thru Camden, Reading, and Allen before stopping at her mother's place on a lake in Quincy. I had heard alot about Charlotte over the years from my own mother. They had been friends despite the fact that she was my father's ex- wife and my mother had always recommended that I contact her to meet her kids and learn about my father. Being at her house was a bit strange, and the idea that I was going to meet her the following week with my new- nephews was even more bizarre. That all changed immediately when she unexpectedly passed us on the road just after we had left her house. Shelly turned around, and we were instantly making introductions. Charlotte gave me a hug, an intense look up and down presumably evaluating any resemblance to my father, and all was well in the world. Another one of these mythical, main characters from an previously abstract past brought to life.

The four of us piled in Shelly's car, and finished our trip into Coldwater, stopping at the Big Boy for food and coffee while Brian & Joey made their way from Kalamazoo. Once they arrived, they joined us for coffee while I found myself astounded by this gathering of people. My sister & her mother from one era of my life. Brian & Joey from my radio days. Chris representing my days in Denver and beyond. I have never allowed these epochs to clash, and it was a sign of things to come. The conversation was light, loud, and full of laughter as we sat at this dumpy little restaurant on US-12 in Coldwater.

I had lived in Kalamazoo for nearly 5- years before moving to Florida in 2004. Brian & Joey have been my best, longest lasting, perhaps my only remaining "real" friends from my Kalamazoo radio days. I met Brian when he was my Program Director at 107.7 WRKR. We had shared a common passion for radio, beyond "bottom line" and "product." We considered radio an art form, public service, and more than just a simple advertising venue. He is to- date the only PD who demanded creativity first, and avoided the "radio formula" like a plague. The ratings reflected this. Unfortunately, corporate powers disagreed and we eventually, after job changes for both of us, found ourselves continuously miserable and frustrated as we began to seek out other ways to live. After I left WRKR, I rented a room in their home for nearly a year. Brian and I would spend hours philosophizing about radio, life, politics... everything. I remember distinctly sitting at his dining room table when he made the decision to tell radio to go fuck itself and go back to school to get his psychology degree in 2003. He's now preparing for his doctorate and presumably moving to Denver for that in 2010.

I had seen Brian & Joey once or twice a year, whenever Shalain and I would return to Kalamazoo, and the familiarity was nice. As we rode back to Kalamazoo, the "plan" was to stay through Saturday, then meet up with Shelly after the BBQ at our father's house in Charlotte, MI that Sunday. The one I had once hoped to attend. That would give us 4- days in Kalamazoo, and I was eager to see how the conversations would go and what insights we'd leave with. I was also anxious to see if I was right in assuming that Chris would get along with these two brilliantly!

6/1: Michigan

With the buildup and Internet conversation, Shelly and I had little to cover once I arrived. It was more of feeling out process to see how we communicated and connected face- to- face. She also had to work very early in the morning making it for early evenings, so we had spent Sunday night getting acquainted, making plans for Monday, and playing with her kitten, Timber. Shelly had discovered Timber in the debris of a fallen tree. She was still too young to survive without nursing, and Shelly had adopted and taken care of her well enough to become the rambunctious ball of energy she is today. They both became local celebrities in the process with a writeup in the local paper.

Monday, we dropped Shelly off at work in Wauseon, about 10- miles west of Delta, just before 7am. For those of you new to the party, I don't do 7am. This fact necessitated a crucial coffee stop. We noticed a little diner in Delta aptly named The Barn; aptly because it used to be one. We had the bottomless coffee and $3.75 breakfast special before driving north to Ann Arbor and the closest REI about 70- miles away.

It was a dreary, and wet as we a finally approached the Michigan state- line and I quipped that we were quite accurate with our March prediction: that we'd be getting to Michigan around the 1st of June. Considering the events of the previous six- weeks, it was dumb luck that we were entering Michigan on June 1st, and it seemed comically ironic that through everything, one of our "plans" had actually worked! Chris pulled over next to the big blue "Welcome to Michigan" sign on state road 109, and we took some pictures of me acting like I was pissing on it. Maturity to the end.

Rural southern Michigan's roads brought back a flood of memories. I began to see things that looked familiar as we drove close to Tecumseh, thru Adrian then eventually down US-12 to Clinton. When we crossed I-94 in Ann Arbor, it finally struck me that I was home. I wasn't sure what to make of that, but I was surprised to find myself rather giddy and even a bit excited; not the typical emotional response.

REI is easy to find, and my intention was to swap out the now- useless Minimalist bivy for the Aurora I had returned in Santa Fe. The problem was that they don't CARRY that model ANYWHERE in Michigan! I was slightly pissed. The only bivy they carried in this impotent REI was the one I had. To top it off, the girl who was "helping" us was a complete Sea-Hag; obviously annoyed that I knew what I wanted and presumed to inconvenience her to... do her job... and help me get it. I quickly accepted the idea that I was either stuck with this near-useless bivy, or I was getting one elsewhere. REI was quickly losing its appeal, so I inconvenienced her again- to give me a full refund.

It's ironic that "Sunshine", while not helpful to us as it pertained to REI, was helpful enough to send our business to some people who appreciated it. She suggested we try Bivouac Ann Arbor, an outfitter located downtown on State Street near the University of Michigan campus. I was astounded to find my backpack from last year IN THE STORE and ON CLEARANCE!! 40% off! Are you kidding me??? The hitch was the hip belt was too large. I need a medium, and wasn't sure they had a replacement that would work for my skinny ass. As I carried it upstairs to ask questions, we met Pam. She told me that she'd put the pack on hold for a week, and put a call into Gregory to see if they had the belt in stock. I figured it was unlikely this would work, but if it did would save me ALOT of money. Plus I was now looking forward to reuniting with REI's Sunshine so I could inconvenience her for another refund. We began to chat with Pam about the trip so far and discovered that we both liked her a great deal. She was about to make my Christmas Card list... and I don't even do Christmas Cards.

I was already liking this store when I found Chris's Alpine bivy in stock and, to my utter glee, it was $20 less than it had been at REI and Pam let on that she would knock another 20 or 25% off the tag. Again, are you KIDDING me?? I immediately told her that if she'd make it 25%, I'd buy it. She agreed, and I had my bivy. A better one than I intended to get from REI, and I got it for $70 LESS! This was turning out to be a pretty good day! Then to top everything off, she said that if a hip belt was found, she'd knock an additional 10% off the backpack, making it half- priced for a brand new pack! Hell, YEAH! THEN, she'd have it shipped to my sister's at no extra cost. Double Hell Yeah!!

I was obviously quite happy as we left the store with my bivy in tow and the pack on hold. I decided that, since it was still early, I would try to contact a couple friends in Jackson about 40- miles west of Ann Arbor. I thought that it would be a good opportunity to see them, and/ or take a quick drive past my old house, and stomping grounds. This worked out quite well as I was able to connect with an old baseball/ drinking buddy, Todd. He and I were quite good friends and it was nice to chat with him at a coffee shop in Jackson.

It was still only 2:00 as we left Jackson for the sticks, and the old house I was raised in. In its heyday, this house was imposing. It was built in 1863 for loggers and had been added- on to giving it a total of 14- rooms. Along with me, my sisters, mother, and grandfather had all either grown up or spent most of their lives there making it something nearly organic for us. I always make this pilgrimage when I'm in the area and have time, despite the fact that it's been abandoned for 15- years and is being reclaimed by nature. It's a powerful practice in perspective. A physical manifestation of the passage of time on display before me. While difficult to see it disintegrating, it still has a centering effect on me. Chris and I explored the place the best we could, taking pictures and making sure we weren't stepping anywhere where the floors may collapse, as has the entire top floor on the west end. My mother still owns the place, and is unable to bring herself to see, or sell it.

We timed this perfectly as we had enough time to get back into Ohio to pick up Shelly with 20- minutes to spare. I had also received the hoped- for call from Pam at Bivouac. The belt was found and already on its way. That meant the next morning, we'd be on our way back to Ann Arbor to return Elmo.

5/31: Meet Shelly

Shelly and I had been talking via Yahoo chat, Facebook, and the telephone since February, so the meeting wasn't as emotional as it would have once been. I can't even say it was "weird", believe it or not.

Part of this stemmed from Shelly notifying me toward the end of our stay in Mass. that Lynn's kids, Ben & Brad, were flying in that week and there was going to be a BBQ at my fathers the following Sunday. They're 14 and 16 now, and hadn't seen their aunts, uncles, and cousins in years. Shelly thought that, since I was already in touch with most of the players in this drama, it would be a good opportunity to get it, for lack of a better term, "over with!" I agreed, even though I was sure I'd feel out of place beyond comprehension! Shortly after we left Hillsdale, NY however, she called to let me know my father didn't think it was a good idea because it would "make people uncomfortable", even though everyone there would know who I was... including Ben & Brad... by then. In other words, he'd have to look me and the rest of his family in the face at the same time, and didn't want to deal with it.

While I wasn't surprised, I was both hurt and pissed off at the same time. Who was he kidding? Does he think everyone's a fool? Coward. I stewed for a good portion of the night, before getting to Oneonta. I had held out hope that there may be a chance that I'd be able to get somewhere with him, but this wasn't a good omen. Shelly suggested that perhaps we could set up a smaller gathering with her, Pam, and he and his wife while I was here. At the very least I'd be able to see my nephews while they were here from Idaho and staying with Shelly's mother. That would indeed be pretty damn cool.

As I got out of the car and walked to her door, of course I was a bit nervous, but once we hugged there was more of a sense of "finally" than anything. We seemed to simply continue this newly- developed relationship seamlessly, with none of the dreaded "tension" that I had been afraid may be present. It was nice to finally put my own mental picture with the photographs I had been shown over three decades and begin the process of bringing these other "phantom" siblings from the abstract to the real.

Shelly has always been intriguing to me. My mother has been very upfront about what she knew about my father's side of my family, and had spoken very well of her. She was the one who it seemed would be the most open to hearing from this "new" brother all of the sudden, and upon our meeting online, it became obvious that I was correct. She took the reins letting Lynn know that she was talking to me and that I'd love to get to know her. Shelly is still the only person with enough courage to confront my father face- to- face, letting him know that she was going to have a relationship with me, whether he was part of it or not. That was the first display of courage based on a sense of right- and- wrong I had seen from anyone in this family in 15- years, and it was something I will always respect and appreciate, whatever happens from here on.

In addition to this, genealogy is a passion of Shelly's. My heritage has also been a blank slate with me. I knew that the name had originated in France, but also that it had probably had its spelling changed at some point. Without the most basic of information, it was impossible to know anything about where they had come from. Fortunately, Shelly had already done all of this. Within an afternoon, I had gone from next to nothing all the way back to 1633, with the name of the town in France that the Dube' family had emigrated from. Coupled with the dozens of pictures she's provided, now not only do I have names, dates, and places... I also had some faces to go with them. Including those of my father as a young man. Scarily similar to mine!

I'm not sure Shelly realizes what she did for me. Regardless of how parental relationships end, the knowledge of who you are and where you have come from is important, and in my opinion an entitlement not to be withheld out of petty cowardice. It's not as though doing the right thing, in this case, would cost anything other than a dose of pride. I had written a letter to my father in 2005 in an effort to make sure he knew I held no grudges, and to both try to establish contact with him AND get some sort of history; both genealogical and medical. Maybe he was out of stamps. Maybe the phone was broken. Maybe the Innerwebs went down. Maybe he's just a jackass. This visit should answer that once and for all. More on that in another post. First, a little history.

I have a total of six- sisters and two- brothers:

- Two sisters are from my mother's first marriage, where I got this horrendous name.
- Three others are also older, from my father's first marriage. They are Shelly, Lynn and Skip. Their mother, Charlotte, was friends with my mother, so these three were around me after I was born having no idea I was their brother. Shelly didn't find out until my mother sent a picture of me to her in her graduation card.
- Then came me: a bounding bundle of joy and inconvenience!
- Shortly after I was born, my father got his current wife pregnant and married her. They've remained married, and have three younger children. Pam, Kim, and Mike.

At some point shortly after I was born, my mother and one of her more obnoxious friends ran into my father and his current wife at a store. This friend apparently took it upon herself to confront he and his wife, asking him "Don't you want to see your son?", while pushing the stroller in front of him. I've always resented her for that because, while I'm sure it made her feel all- powerful to blindside him, it ended any likelihood that there would be any casual contact between he and I. From my understanding, this caused some discussion between he and his wife, and somewhere along the way she ended up telling Pam (born shortly after me) that I was out here.

When I finally tried to contact people in 1994, it was Pam whom I reached and, despite my attempts to be clever and coy, she knew exactly who I was. Shortly after this, I met Pam and her younger sister Kim. These relationships were a bit strained, and after a couple years of feeling like the puppy dog hidden in the shed, we lost contact shortly after I began my radio career.

At a particularly intense point in 2000, I decided to drunk- call again, and this time Kim just put my father on the phone... probably not wanting to deal with me! From that came the only meeting I've had with him, which was at a mall food- court in Battle Creek. It lasted all of 20- minutes, but went pretty well all the same. I left thinking that we had actually begun to connect in some weird way and thought that we'd be able to continue keeping in touch. That was the last contact I've had with him, and the last contact with Pam or Kim until January of this year after a chance encounter with Kim on Facebook. That led to re- establishing contact with Pam, which led me to Shelly.

It was always figured that there was clear, universal knowledge of the situation based on the fact that when I contacted Pam 15- years ago, she had known who I was. Figuring this family was at least quasi- normal, I assumed that the topic of "another sibling" would make its rounds and the results would play themselves out over time. Shelly, Lynn, and Pam have finally dispelled this dreadfully misguided assumption.

Through these conversations I've learned that not only was there no communication on the topic, but that it had become taboo for whatever reason. Michelle apparently had to push her way onto the computer the night we talked for the first time. I wasn't even told she was there. Then, Lynn shocked me when she told me that it was only VERY recently that she discovered who I was. Apparently my father and his wife have NEVER discussed this, at all- NEVER, after "the store." I keep saying it, but this is just inconceivable to me, even now after I've come to discover how whacked their family dynamics really are.

As I arrived at Shelly's house in Delta on May 31, I held no real expectations beyond meeting my nephews and a faint, fading glimmer hope that I'd be able to begin to develop a relationship with the rest of that part of my family, particularly Daddy Dearest. I also, however, knew that this was the last chance. It's time to draw conclusions, good or bad, and move on. I know that I have growing relationships with Shelly, Lynn, & perhaps Pam. That aint bad! From this point, the best that I could do was make myself available and do everything I could to offer every opportunity to get things right. I want to at least leave Michigan knowing I have done EVERYTHING that I could do, having no regrets or "what- ifs" from here forward. I wanted to be able to say for certain when he's dead and gone, "Yes... I tried. But he was just simply a jackass" with no second thoughts about being right. I hoped for the best as I prepared for what was assured to be the most intense period of investigating both myself , and where I had come from to date: Vitam Impendere Vero: Truth before everything.

5/30- 31: Hillsdale to Hillsdale (almost!)

Chris & I broke camp around mid- morning and were soon in Hillsdale, NY where I found myself having fun with the new found mobile picture feature on my phone. I knew Hillsdale was going to play a key role in my Michigan Adventure, and loved the thought of the last town out east having the same name. I'm not difficult to amuse.

We got some time at the library, then found the Hillsdale Country Diner where we enjoyed some good food, people watching, conversation, and cell charging. We lingered quite awhile before retiring to the public park across the road where Chris made phone calls while I wrote & listened to music.

Stacey arrived a bit earlier than expected so we were all on the road toward the Hudson River with a lot of daylight still ahead. She hates interstates and insisted on taking state roads, which suited us fine. We had our reunion with Lucy the Dog and commenced down route 23 toward Oneonta, where Chris happened to be born. We made a quick stop at the hospital for a picture, then he called his mom for directions to his very first house.

Oneonta was neat. I was thinking that, even for a college town, there were some astoundingly beautiful women there! It is also a quick 20- minute drive from Cooperstown where the National Baseball Hall of Fame is located and, had I been alone, I probably would have walked there to fawn over at the exhibits... again!

It was rather late when we finally joined Route 7 toward Binghamton. We chose it because it runs adjacent to I-88 and I planned to drive through the night to make a little time when Stacey inevitably fell asleep. Just as we were discussing the driver switch, we passed something you don't see nearly enough: a FUNCTIONING, packed drive- in theater! They were showing the new Star Trek which both Chris & I had seen, but we had loved it and were eager to see it again... if the cost was reasonable. When we pulled in to ask the price, we just kept going as there was no one taking cash! The movie was just 20- minutes in, so we quickly parked and figured out the radio frequency while exclaiming how "cool this is!" over and over.

After the movie Chris continued driving because we had discovered Stacey had lost a headlight, thus eliminating any possibilities of me driving at night. The two of us chatted while Stacey slept, and eventually broke off Route 7 near Elmira where we quietly slipped into Pennsylvania. Near the town of Mosherville, we fiddled with the idea of stealth camping, but with the car it proved to be folly. We elected instead to continue on, and once on US-6, it wasn't long before long my visions of being pulled over by a bored patrolman proved correct. Chris was stopped, warned, and quickly waved along with a warning- without so much as a glance at Stacey and I. It's amazing how little interest they have in arbitrary ID- checks when the traffic stop is "audio and video taped", as he was required to disclose.

Once the sun came up Sunday morning, it was time for a breakfast stop at a park inside the Allegheny National Recreation Area. Lucy had a wonderful time running free while we ate, chatted and took pictures. The clouds held little promise for a nice day, so Stacey chose to proceed on as far as we could instead of finding a place to camp after driving all night. It just seemed odd to camp at 8am!

Soon we were approaching Ohio and my mind was is racing in high gear. I had managed to grab a few precious winks and the idea of driving while everyone slept appealed greatly, so drive I did, stopping at a church next to the Ohio state line on route 84. We reclined in the grass beneath what had now become a sunny sky and just relaxed/ goofed around for a bit before continuing toward Ashtabula.

Ashtabula is in the extreme NE corner of Ohio on Lake Erie. Chris and I joked that we hoped the lake wasn't burning today as we found a nice vista point for Stacey. Then it was time to rejoin our old friend US- 20 which came to Ohio all the way from Springfield and continued on very close to Shelly's place in Delta, OH. By Cleveland, we had begun to discuss our options. I held out hope that Stacey would be able to get us all the way to Hillsdale, MI just so I could title this post "Hillsdale to Hillsdale", but she understandably wanted ample time to meander back to Massachusetts. My friends Brian & Joey were expecting us in Kalamazoo soon, but hadn't really had enough information to make any concrete "plans" (ha!). In the end, we left Cleveland aiming for Delta. That seemed the best for everyone because Stacey could immediately begin her return, from a closer distance, and Chris and I would have a place to organize. My only reservation was that this seemed an odd way to meet a sister! After some thought however, it became apparent that this was probably the perfect way for HER to meet me!

I had insisted on avoiding Sandusky completely. I have some not- so- flattering memories of this town on the lake that is the home to Cedar Point; an incredibly cool amusement park. It's also happens to be the incredibly cool amusement park where the events transpired that had cost me my radio gig in Kalamazoo, back in 2002! Not that losing that job was a bad thing in ANY sense, I just didn't want to be reminded of it! Chris, on the other hand, had other ideas, and he was the navigator. When we switched seats on the outskirts of Sandusky, I quickly realized that he was taking me not only INTO Sandusky, but he had managed to pick an exact route that would take me right by the bar where some of these "events" took place! How the fuck did he DO that?

Toledo was next, then it was a quick 20- minute drive to Delta and Shelly's house. I suggested we stop at a Subway to clean out the car and gather our things, but in reality I needed a cigarette and to mentally prepare. It's not everyday that you meet a sister you've known about for 30- years...

5/11- 13: Newark to Santa Fe

Not alot to write here, but there was a comical debate between Chris, Mary, and I over of all things, this hat of mine.

I had been pondering returning it to REI when I arrived back in New Mexico as a quick way to recoup money. A little hobby of mine, no? I had gone into financial lock- down after Manhattan, and was now scheming ways to re- acquire it prior to getting the pictures ready to sell. The hat was an obvious, easy target. Chris, however, was a bit smitten and offered to buy it instead. Terrific! Easy! Just one problem...

I had become attached to the thing.

It had seen the Veggie Bus, DC, Trent's, The Chesapeake, black widows, ticks, and the euphoria on the beach in NJ. I had spilled beer on it in both Corbin City and in New York City! It was in half of our pictures! How could I just abandon it? Chris pointed out that I was like Indiana Jones, "Don't... touch... my... HAT!" Ultimately, and even after Mary offered to pay for it, I elected to keep it. Plus, Kwami had said that I look like a badass in it. He's a man of obvious taste, and that's good enough for me.

The bus left Newark, and took me to exotic locales such as Allentown, Pittsburgh, Columbus, Indianapolis, Des Moines, Omaha, and finally Denver before my connection to Santa Fe two days later.

Des Moines was a bit odd. I had lived there from 1998- 99, and the bus happened to drive quite close to one of our old apartments then directly past the other. It's odd how things become nostalgic as time passes. Ten years ago, I would have never guessed that, at least as pertaining to Des Moines.

One note on Greyhound: They are making obvious improvements. The buses are still shitty, but the stations are resembling Bangladesh ghettos slightly less. I actually watched part of the Nuggets game at the swanky little station in Pittsburgh! Plus, I was quite shocked to learn that I would watch movies on TWO of the smaller lines: Trailways and Americanos. One featured Toby Keith, and another starred a pre- pubescent Lindsay Lohan, but they WERE movies! So, props to The Dirty Dog for being a bit less... filthy.

Shit, I AM a travel writer!

Americanos got me to Santa Fe 30- minutes early on Wednesday. That's unheard of in my experience, but true nonetheless. Shalain picked me up, and we spent the night simply hanging out.

It felt like I had just left, and been gone a year at the same time. I got a kick out of driving past the exit Devin had taken off I-25 in the Veggie Bus, exactly a month earlier. One hell of a loop I had just made!