Always Exploring, Always Learning
I am two and a half days into a five day road trip from Ann Arbor, Michigan to Taos, New Mexico. According to Google Maps, I could have made the 1,482 miles in 26 hours if I had chosen to do so. However, I decided to be a bit more adventurous than that, so I am stretching it out over 5 days instead. When I launch myself into the great unknown of a road trip, I try to learn new things about this great country of ours, as well as insights about myself, so here is my latest list of observations and reflections after the first few days on the road.
Colors and Textures
I don’t know who in their right mind would choose to take a major road trip in the dead of winter, but here I am, holed up in my camper in early February, writing to you all from Wichita, Kansas. Colorwise, today was a very gray day, punctuated by the textures of slippery ice crystals hitting my windshield. I knew I was in a somewhat precarious position when I stepped out of my camper van first thing in the morning after sleeping soundly under my warm covers in the parking lot of a distillery not far from Hannibal, Missouri. It was 25 degrees and icy sleet greeted me.
I can’t remember why I opened the door and stepped out onto the gravel, but was immediately aware of the sensation of stepping on a sea of miniature floating ice cubes. Mmmm… This couldn’t be good. Oh yes! Now I know why I stepped out! I needed to scrape the ice off my windshield in order to be able to drive away. I gingerly crept to the front of the van and scraped off the windshield, then climbed back into the driver’s seat and carefully made my way through the parking lot, driveway, and onto the four lane road.
Once I got myself onto the slick road, I knew I needed to go fairly slowly or I would surely end up in a ditch. To check for traffic approaching from behind, I glanced at my side mirrors (the rear view mirror is useless because I have too much stuff piled in front of the back door windows, which means that I rely exclusively on my big side mirrors to check traffic behind me, and also the blind spots beside me.). I realized immediately that I had made a rookie error. While I had turned on the van and defroster to thaw the windshield ice so that I could scrape it, I had neglected to check the side mirrors before driving off. Unfortunately for me, they were both caked with so much ice that I couldn’t see the road at all, much less whether there were any cars behind or beside me.
To fix the problem, I needed to change lanes and pull off at the next exit, which was about five miles away. I successfully made the maneuver, stopped on the side of the exit ramp, and put my blinkers on. I hopped out, grabbed my scraper, and chiseled my way through the ice to free the mirror. Thankfully, I did not get hit by any wayward sliding vehicle trying to come up the ramp, but I did get approached by a state trooper and a kind citizen, both of whom wanted to make sure I was ok.
After a few moments of making adjustments to the mirrors after I had hacked at them mercilessly, I was back in business. Woohoo! Won’t make that mistake again!
I passed a total of 5 vehicles on the side of the road or in a ditch before noon today. Two of them were big trucks like this one.
Other colors and textures
Even with the grayness of winter and overcast skies, I still marvel at the color and texture palettes that have surrounded me as I drive along. Some examples:
Bright yellow school buses making their morning or afternoon rounds.
Different shades of gray and black on the surfaces of the roadways, depending on where I am at a given moment in time. The textures are marked by gravel, potholes, or ribbing to alert drivers to an upcoming stop sign or traffic light. Some pavements are clearly new, others clearly old and worn down by years of bearing the various weights of trucks, cars, farm equipment, and any other vehicle imaginable.
Black or dark purple against the sky, the bare trees are amazing with their big trunks and lacy branches rising up out of the earth, spreading out and up, forming wonderful shapes and intricate webs that are only visible for an instant as I pass by. Mesmerizing.
As I drive, looking off in the distance, I see miles of treeless farmland in various shades of brown or red or gold, with the occasional cluster of house, outbuildings, and barns dotting the landscape. Where these building clusters lay, there are always a few trees present to keep them company. The families who live in these clusters appear isolated, often situated miles from their nearest neighbor. Rural America is very different from rural Europe. In Europe, at least the parts I’ve visited, farmland spreads out and surrounds the village, where all the farmers and other village residents live. There is a palpable and intentional community that is at the center of the agricultural region. Contrast that with American farms, which are spread out over vast expanses of land. Each farm family resides on their own land, often in the center of the acreage, surrounded by the fields they tend. They must travel miles and miles to visit neighbors or procure supplies.
While today (Wednesday) the sky was a mousey gray with freezing drizzle coming down pretty much nonstop, yesterday (Tuesday) was gloriously sunny, with lazy puffy clouds almost but not quite covering the blue behind them. I say lazy clouds because it seemed to me they were trying to be white, but just couldn’t quite make the transition out of the gray fogginess of the day before (Monday). The Tuesday sky was beautifully hazy, with shades of blue and gray and white all competing for my awareness.
The texture and color of the landscape itself was similarly amazing. Again, depending on what state I was in, or which part of that state, the terrain was flat or rolling, the roadway curvy or straight. The land beyond the road might be brown, reddish, or golden; spikey or smooth; dotted with forests or perfectly “naked” with no trees whatsoever, just plowed fields. A constantly changing vista can hold my attention for hours, even when I’m not listening to anything except my own thoughts as I drive along.
Google Maps never fails to make my driving life interesting. Today I was directed down Bronc Rider Road, a dirt affair that didn’t seem to improve my driving route efficiency, which is what Google tells me it is always striving for.
Things I’ve Learned So Far
I’m always rewarded when I decide to get off the interstate and take the smaller roads. The first afternoon of my trip I drove from Ann Arbor to Joliet, Illinois. I was on the interstate the entire afternoon, and definitely made the progress I had intended, given that I had left rather late in the day and didn’t want to drive after dark. The second and third days of the trip have been the exact opposite, slower going but oh so much more interesting! (as noted above)
Even though I take the byways intentionally so that I will get a better flavor of the part of the country and the communities I am passing through, I still feel cheated. I am missing so much as I drive through towns that clearly have rich and fascinating histories and stories to tell. I simply don’t have the luxury of stopping at every historical marker, local museum, or visitor information center, however. As a result of my neglect, the towns become nondescript, forgettable places that can tend to all look the same to me. Even worse, I am often on a state or county road that decades ago would have taken me right through the center of the town (which is always a fun experience), but nowadays bypasses the town altogether. Instead of driving down the beautiful main street of quintessential small-town Americana, I drive along the edge of town on a road filled with auto shops, insurance offices, shabby boarded up buildings, and tired houses. So unfair to the town and the people who live there!
As I drive through country’s heartland, I am keenly aware of my feeling that the world has passed by the people who live here. It makes me sad, although these towns have such richness, filled with civic pride. Today we have the ability to fly over long distances, or drive more quickly on the interstates to get from one place to another. Getting to many of these towns requires one to go way off the beaten paths to find them. I can see why the people in these small, rural towns might feel forgotten by the hustle and bustle of life in busier places. What goes on elsewhere in the country and the world may not have much relevance for the folks trying to earn a living in these remote environments. Much of the time the economies are too small to support recognizable fast food chains, big box stores, or even gas stations. Cemeteries sit in the middle of a field. I can drive for miles and miles and never see a school, hospital, grocery store. If there is a medical emergency, how far must someone go to get help? How long do children ride buses to get to the closest school? A trip to the grocery store can be a day’s outing. Those of us who live near bigger towns and cities take these conveniences for granted, and it is easy to assume that everyone has them. Not so, and we ignore at our peril the reality of the relative isolation that exists in a big part of our country. I’m thinking about that quite a bit as I listen to the news unfolding in the first weeks of our new Presidential administration.
I’m learning how to be a stealth camper. When I made my 1938 Project trip from Michigan to California in 2023, following the trail of my mother’s family, I planned everything from beginning to end. Where I was going to stay. How far I was going to drive. Who I was going to visit. Etc. etc. Every day and even every hour of every day was accounted and planned for. This trip is totally different. I have not tried to find a proper campsite at all. Instead, I am choosing to stay mostly in hotel parking lots. This means I can stop whenever I’m ready, find a nice hotel with a big, accessible well-lit parking lot, and then I simply blend my vehicle in with the other hotel guests. I throw up my curtains and shades, keep the lights down low, and no one is the wiser. I sleep like a baby and wake up refreshed. I am self-contained and love the independence this lifestyle gives me. Not to mention saving loads of money. I’ve only eaten out once so far.
A winter road trip is different than a warm weather road trip, and requires different preparations. Not knowing what the weather might be during the two weeks I’m out, I tried to anticipate every eventuality. Chains for my tires. Kitty litter to spread over icy surfaces. Traction boards to help me out of snow. Ice scrapers for the windows. Extra blankets and sweaters. Extra boots and strap-on clamps for traction in case I need to walk to get help. Thick wool socks. Extra gloves, hats, scarves. Today was the worst day so far weather-wise, and I only needed the scraper. That said, I did see several overturned vehicles, including a semi tractor trailer, so I’m right to be cautious and prepared.
In general, I am becoming more streamlined in the way I pack the camper. Since I am traveling in winter, I certainly don’t need the folding chairs or other items I would normally use outside. All my time is spent inside the camper, so besides the folding chairs, I left my camp stove, folding table, bug spray, and charcoal. I do have my hose and electrical hookup cords with me, but probably won’t be using them. I also did not fill my in-house water tank since I don’t want to risk any of my pipes freezing or bursting. Instead, I have two 2.5-gallon water jugs that I can refill. That’s all I need to make coffee in the morning. My food is pretty minimal since I’m not cooking on this trip. Instead of using my french press for coffee, I have a simple, one-cup drip method which does not make a mess and is easy to clean up. Food is all finger-food. Hard boiled eggs. Apples. Clementines. Carrots. Crackers. Trail mix. Cheese. Easy to get out and easy to put away. And filling. This trip is about getting where I’m going, not making gourmet meals en route.
I found a couple of apps that make my driving life easier and more enjoyable. After my harrowing escape from a tornado last July (actually, it was more of a narrow side-step than an escape, since I simply got lucky in that I was not in its direct path), I am now using DriveWeather, which can tell me what to expect on my route depending on where I’m going and when I will be on the road. For example, last night it told me that today was going to be a miserable day for driving. Freezing drizzle all day, but at least I was mentally prepared to tackle it when I got up this morning. The other app I’m using is Autio. This app, when it’s working properly (I’m still figuring it out), will tell me stories and history of the places I’m driving through, as I’m driving through them. So far the functionality has been a little hit and miss, but when I get the story it really enhances the experience of driving through a particular town or area. They are short, perfect little interruptions as I drive along.
Highlight So Far
When looking at potential routes to New Mexico, I decided early on that I would like to make a stop in Hannibal, Missouri, if the weather would permit it. I am happy to say that the weather gods worked in my favor and I spent a wonderful, relaxed, beautiful afternoon visiting Mark Twain’s boyhood hometown. This time of year does not see many visitors in Hannibal, but the major sites were open for business nevertheless, and I loved that I had the place pretty much entirely to myself. The museum system in Hannibal is made up of several buildings that were pivotal to Mark Twain and his most famous stories of Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer, which were loosely based on his own boyhood experiences. As an aspiring creative nonfiction writer myself, I was drawn to two first person accounts written by Sam Clemens (aka Mark Twain), and purchased them. The first is his autobiography, and the second is his account of his travels throughout the west in his early adulthood. His writing style is electric and captivating.
Mark Twain was a prolific and gifted writer. So much of what he said over 100 years ago is still relevant today. We need to listen.
Although he lived and wrote over 100 years ago, Twain’s gift of language has stood the test of time. I am looking forward to reading him with two lenses - one for the sheer enjoyment and appreciation of his stories and descriptions, and one with an eye to understanding his writing style more fully. The autobiographical notes were apparently left in a voluminous shambles at the time of his death, so there have been various attempts to compile them into a coherent format. That book will be a very different read than the one that Clemens actually organized and completed himself, which chronicles some of his adventures as a young man. I’m sure both will be fascinating.
Next Steps
From here I have two more days of driving, and then I will reach Santa Fe. There I will reconnect with the friends I made during my 2023 trip and where I spent Thanksgiving that year. After an overnight in Santa Fe I will be driving on to Taos, where I will be attending a 3 day/4 night retreat. When that is over I will be heading home. I have no idea what that experience will be like, and I haven’t figured out the return route yet. So stay tuned as the adventures continue to unfold!
I close with a quote from Mark Twain that I believe to be true and which particularly resonates with me on this trip as I listen to the news, worry about friends and family, and hope for a more compassionate future:
