Well... technically, we are. Newton, Kansas, to be precise. The little guidebook-thingy they seem to have for every American city says it's the home of the Chisolm Trail Festival, right under the photo of some strange Shriner event that seems to feature a train made of 50-gallon water drums, bearing a horde of small children, being driven through town by some type of ATV.
Yep, we're officially on the road.
I began to feel better about things as I finally hit the blacktop after a day and a half of vehicular finagling and packing; the winding velvet-black ribbon beckoning me to drive, baby, just drive. There's something both soothing and stimulating about cross-country travel that just can't be replicated any other way, the long stretches of banality punctuated by the occasional spark of enlightenment, or at least a funny-looking taco stand. I have met the Road, and it is me.
I think it was Jim Morrison that drew a parallel between the interstate highway system and the bloodstream of our country. It's a good metaphor. I am a lonely corpuscle being pushed along by the heartbeat of this amazing thing called America, and I couldn't be happier to be here, thankful for the opportunity to steep myself in my biannual insanity.
Bernie's reading some sort of religious material. Never figured Bern to be the searching type, but I guess we all are, at least on some level. I hope my incessant tapping isn't bugging him too much. Knowing him as I do, he wouldn't tell me anyway. So I'll resolve to keep typing until he throws something at me. Or until I get boring. You decide which happens first.
Man, we got a late start. It seems fairly certain at this point I won't be able to see the lunar eclipse from the playa on Monday night. Damn. The view of the stars from out there is just unbelievable. It always reminds me of when I was a kid, growing up out in the country. It would get so absurdly dark out there. A child of lesser constitution would likely be spooked by this, but not yours truly. I never felt afraid of the night. Not with all the stars. And there were SO MANY STARS. Picture Carl Sagan with his trademark "billions and billions" speech and you'll get the idea. I've never seen skies like that as an adult--too much light pollution from my city living--until I went to Burning Man. I'm sure I'll have some entries on Nevada's native beauty at some point. For now, rest assured it's really pretty and nice, and I'll send pictures, but you'll have to wash my car first. 'Cause that's how I roll.
More later. I'm tired. We found a motel with Wi-Fi, and that's good enough for now. Besides, Bernie's looking at me with wild eyes and picking up a shoe. G'night...
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