8/15: Central Square, NY- About Face

I’d first heard about Oregon on Friday. It wasn’t until I knew their departure date that I seriously considered trying to making it happen. If I wanted to, I had a week to turn tail and get from extreme northern New York to Ohio, where I hoped Michelle would pick me up and help me to catch my stage west.

Subconsciously, I knew what I was going to do all along. I have the short-bus habit of quietly making quick, rash, often foolish decisions, then acting out the drama to appear as though I’m anguishing with the already completed process. Often, I even Don Quixote myself into believing I’m still trying to decide. I really hate this tendency!

8/14: Massena, NY- Cracks

It took some time to understand, but Saturday morning’s frustration was less about Ahab, Ginger, or Bill than myself. Somehow that perfect Friday soured, and although I meant no harm other than being my oft-obnoxious self, something sinister and familiar crashed my little party via the radio conversation: what Chris likes to refer to as my negativity and judgment. Guilty: I have a track record as one aggressive, direct, cold, bitter son-of-a-bitch-- especially when someone tries to sell me on the value of conservatism or that shell-of-a-medium called radio! I suppose that’s because on some level, it still matters to me. The conversation ended, but I lugged the negative energy with me.

8/13: Alex Bay, NY- The Asscrack Incident

Wanting to avoid pesky park rangers and potential problems for Gus, I was packed and nearly ready by 7:30 when to my surprise Bill showed up and invited me to stay at his site for the day or weekend to relax and nurse the blister. I was quite impressed with Keewaydin State Park and more than happy to accept!

8/12: Alex Bay, NY

Interstate Forest

Waking up, the first thing I noticed was that the heat and humidity had mercifully relented. Second: I was becoming efficient and streamlined! I'm not sure which I was happier with, but both combined for a good start to the day! Even so, matching Wednesday would prove difficult but early-on, Thursday felt like a old, comfortable pair of shoes. I was back with my old friend Interstate, this time I-81, and within 15 minutes of joining him I was northbound.

My first ride was, surprise, single woman! A rarity indeed! Elaine was a no-nonsense Mennonite, continuing the religious theme, in her 30’s, and had absolutely no problem letting me know who she was or what she thought. She knew exactly where she was taking me... rather I liked it or not.... conveying in clear, concise terms that she knew best. I liked her! (In this limited dose!)

8/11: Mexico, NY

Dave

Rather than risk the toll road, I decided to just go around Syracuse, first via Route 14. Initially, I thought this was a mistake because of the odd vibe sitting on the side of the road! But my first (nameless) ride came quickly, took me the eight to 10 miles up the road in Lyons, and after that I was fine and this would-be interesting day was underway.

8/10: Trumansburg- Moscow, NY

Monday night’s deluge gave way to Tuesday’s sun... and its accompanying humidity! For most of the morning, I organized, repacked, and lingered in the woods trying to recall how to function out of a backpack and contemplating my route north. I could either follow the more scenic, but rural/ touristy, road along the shores of Lake Cayuga, or turn west toward Trumansburg and Route 96.

8/9: Ithaca & Taughannock Falls, NY

Although I'd spent only two of the previous nine weeks at home, Monday morning's all too familiar comedy-of-errors was a stark reminder that my pack had been little more than an extravagant suitcase since late-March! That was about to change. As I showered, methodically packed and re-packed, and finally walked out of Buttermilk Falls State Park toward Ithaca's mysteries, I expected to be cursing my own stupid, out-of-practice "mistakes" as much as anything! Thinking back to Santa Barbara '08, I chuckled knowing it was sure to continue for a short time then thankfully pass!

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!

Upon Further Review...

A famous singer once said that when you start explaining yourself, you’re fucked. Another wise man also said, “Hope floats, but so does bullshit!”

With the help of friends over the last couple of months, I’ve come to several conclusions. Counter to our claims, truth & honesty are NOT highly regarded! Most would prefer insulating their image and feeling good at any cost—reality be damned. People go to remarkable mental, verbal, and physical extremes to avoid any challenge to often fictitious personal narrative. Protecting these narratives has inadvertently become the dominant theme of the past year.