Mad In Pursuit Notebook

Lake Erie in Ohio

Day 1: Rochester NY - Port Clinton OH (340 miles)

8 Oct 2008 -- Got off at 9 AM, with a day of moseying along Lake Erie in mind. Good to start off easy, I think, before the highway mad blandness of Indiana-Illinois-Iowa-Nebraska sets in. Jim spilled his coffee on himself in the driveway, but otherwise all systems GO!!! No radio, no clinging to the dismal world. I put on Woody Guthrie and we sang “The Car Song,” “The Land Is Your Land,” and a few Dustbowl Ballads. Our feet-tires were very much in tune with our asphalt-earth. “Home” is now our little Corolla. Oh, then I had to play Pete Seeger singing “Follow the Drinking Gourd” (about escaping from slavery on the Underground Railroad, following the Big Dipper) — lots of traveling music.

We settled in, finally, quieter. We brought sandwiches and avoided chain restaurants. We drove along the lake, determined to get ourselves off the interstates as soon as possible. It was rainy along Lake Erie but it didn’t matter. We ate lunch at a marina in Conneaut, Ohio. A bag of Boston Bean peanuts turned out to be full of weevil caterpillers and their webby mess, so we fed them to the seagulls.

Ohio lawns are battling between Obama and McCain in a way that we don’t see in Blue New York.

We are now at the Best Western in Port Clinton, OH. No cell service – what’s up with that? Glad the hotel has wireless. We ate spaghetti and lasagna at Phil’s Place – sauce to die for. Tomorrow: a long interstate drive to Davenport, Iowa.

from my handwritten journal:

Concentrating on the pure joy of Being -- no, small-b being. On the road, with Jim.

Heartlight: wearing my grandfather's Kinights of Columbus ring as a charm. If anxiety attacks (in the form of impatience, irritation), the ring sings Neill Diamond's Heartlight to me. I breath, expand my chest (heart center) to be the kind of open-hearted stand-tall woman Tom Barrett fell in love with. Odd how it connects me and expands me beyond myself. Yes, beyond self and ego. Be here now.


Don’t forget to check my tweets — occasional messages from the road.

I know, it’s kind of stupid. It’s not like we’re climbing Mt Everest. Still it’s occasionally good to remind myself that I Am Here and the Time Is Now. Anyway, I can do tweets from my phone, so what the heck.

Maybe the deeper we get into this trip, the less I will feel the need to broadcast myself to everyone.