All of which is to say that I’m reviewing my “TRIPS” notebook in Evernote as I add some upcoming travels. I’m torn between a few different viewpoints:
The West coast is huge and varied, why go anywhere else?
The United States is huge and varied, why go anywhere else?
Planet Earth is huge and varied, why go anywhere else?
The next trip is to Washington, DC in a few weeks to stand in and get a sense of the place where this country’s officials make decisions about the future. It will be my first time on the East coast, and only the second time I travel out beyond the Rocky Mountains. I expect I’ll mostly look at buildings and monuments, spend time in museums, drink beer at bars around the Capital, read, and ponder.
After that will be a road trip in March along California’s central valley and a revisit of the areas in South-East California that I first visited a decade ago. It was my first time getting to know any part of California outside of Los Angeles. It was as lonesome on those empty highways as it is in the movies that depict them, and I loved it. I’ll enjoy stopping at the local restaurants to pick up some good chatter. The rainy Spring will mean lots of landscapes full of flowers and a tolerable temperature. The best time to visit the desert.
My passport expires this year. It’ll end its service with two stamps: one from a trip to Guadalajara, Jal. in the Summer of 2007 and another from a road trip up to Vancouver Island, BC in the Spring of 2012. I will renew immediately and consider what’s next on planet Earth.
All of which is to say that I’m reviewing my “TRIPS” notebook in Evernote as I add some upcoming travels. I’m torn between a few different viewpoints:
The West coast is huge and varied, why go anywhere else?
The United States is huge and varied, why go anywhere else?
Planet Earth is huge and varied, why go anywhere else?
The next trip is to Washington, DC in a few weeks to stand in and get a sense of the place where this country’s officials make decisions about the future. It will be my first time on the East coast, and only the second time I travel out beyond the Rocky Mountains. I expect I’ll mostly look at buildings and monuments, spend time in museums, drink beer at bars around the Capital, read, and ponder.
After that will be a road trip in March along California’s central valley and a revisit of the areas in South-East California that I first visited a decade ago. It was my first time getting to know any part of California outside of Los Angeles. It was as lonesome on those empty highways as it is in the movies that depict them, and I loved it. I’ll enjoy stopping at the local restaurants to pick up some good chatter. The rainy Spring will mean lots of landscapes full of flowers and a tolerable temperature. The best time to visit the desert.
My passport expires this year. It’ll end its service with two stamps: one from a trip to Guadalajara, Jal. in the Summer of 2007 and another from a road trip up to Vancouver Island, BC in the Spring of 2012. I will renew immediately and consider what’s next on planet Earth.
Getting closer. Moved into a bedroom for far less than I was paying in apartment rent, and I’ve reduced extra belongings to a 5 x 5 storage unit. Need to save up for proper window tinting, then install window blockers and curtains.
If all goes well, I’m living out of the XJ by December.
Current status of the cargo area. The platform is:
a big piece of particle board
scrap wood beams for support
hardtop gaskets from my old TJ to prevent sliding and scratching up the sheet metal
gray rustoleum
I made sure to leave that gap underneath the platform for ventilation. All essential tools, fluids, etc. sit underneath the area behind the seats. Wish I’d built an access door on the platform to make it easier, but it gets the job done. Holds up well.
Getting closer. Moved into a bedroom for far less than I was paying in apartment rent, and I’ve reduced extra belongings to a 5 x 5 storage unit. Need to save up for proper window tinting, then install window blockers and curtains.
If all goes well, I’m living out of the XJ by December.
Current status of the cargo area. The platform is:
a big piece of particle board
scrap wood beams for support
hardtop gaskets from my old TJ to prevent sliding and scratching up the sheet metal
gray rustoleum
I made sure to leave that gap underneath the platform for ventilation. All essential tools, fluids, etc. sit underneath the area behind the seats. Wish I’d built an access door on the platform to make it easier, but it gets the job done. Holds up well.
Social obligation, that is the notion of being required to do anything more than have a nice talk over a granola bar or cup of coffee, doesn’t rear its ugly head. There’s no obligation. Just folks. Travelers, maybe, if some think of it in that conscious sort of way. Romantics might think it. But folks anyway, just going someplace in a car or on a bike, or hitching, though I don’t know anyone personally who’s done that. There’s no requirement in the social bits of travel. Nothing exchanged but stories, tips, simple greetings and goodbyes. Or nothing, as there might not be a thing to say. No scheduling to it or time to think too much. A moment’s come and gone.
Politeness. Politeness and kindness where one can give it. I’ve met with a lot of kindness that surprised me every time. Kindness of the moment’ll do a hell of a lot more than an expectation to keep in touch. Don’t expect that of no one and that’s that.
There’s intuition as funneled through the gut. The gut knows about people. Good people, not so good. Some part of getting out there is maybe knowing what’s bad and doing it anyway, but these days I don’t go in for that thinking. It’s not wise far as I can tell.
Quietness out there. It’s that, I think. A mostly quiet sort of experience, punctuated with the little talks, and little hellos and smiles, and then little partings. The kind of being with people that doesn’t break a man.
Social obligation, that is the notion of being required to do anything more than have a nice talk over a granola bar or cup of coffee, doesn’t rear its ugly head. There’s no obligation. Just folks. Travelers, maybe, if some think of it in that conscious sort of way. Romantics might think it. But folks anyway, just going someplace in a car or on a bike, or hitching, though I don’t know anyone personally who’s done that. There’s no requirement in the social bits of travel. Nothing exchanged but stories, tips, simple greetings and goodbyes. Or nothing, as there might not be a thing to say. No scheduling to it or time to think too much. A moment’s come and gone.
Politeness. Politeness and kindness where one can give it. I’ve met with a lot of kindness that surprised me every time. Kindness of the moment’ll do a hell of a lot more than an expectation to keep in touch. Don’t expect that of no one and that’s that.
There’s intuition as funneled through the gut. The gut knows about people. Good people, not so good. Some part of getting out there is maybe knowing what’s bad and doing it anyway, but these days I don’t go in for that thinking. It’s not wise far as I can tell.
Quietness out there. It’s that, I think. A mostly quiet sort of experience, punctuated with the little talks, and little hellos and smiles, and then little partings. The kind of being with people that doesn’t break a man.
