ck/ck

The Finale

I’m at the airport, waiting to board. I feel like I’m in one of those movies where the lovers are forced apart by their families, only in my story it’s the U.S. government that won’t let me stay in the city I love.

Yesterday, after trying to squeeze my (nearly) one year in America into my bags, I went on one last walkabout round the city, starting at Union Square, south through the East Village and Soho, down through Chinatown to the Brooklyn Bridge. Got on the subway up to Upper East Side, to Central Park where I sat under my favourite tree as the sun went down, then over to the west side to catch a glimpse of the 4th of July fireworks. Going out with a bang, I suppose. I didn’t take very many pictures, I wasn’t in the right mindset, but it was nice to see some parts/streets I knew I hadn’t checked out before.

Today there wasn’t much time for anything, but I did one thing I never got around to the whole time I lived here: see it from above. So I headed up to the Top of the Rock, since (from what I’ve heard) it’s just as good as the Empire State Building, and not as crowded. A nice way to say goodbye, but just for now, I hope.

Day 66: The Long Road Home

After 66 days on the road, my road trip across America (and back) is completed. I’m back in New York City, home sweet home once upon a time, and it’s a mix of emotions inside of me. It feels really good to be back in NYC, but at the same time, this adventure is all but over, not only the road trip, but my year in America.

There’s not much to say about the day. It was basically like the last leg of the Tour de France, where it’s just a parade to the finish line, with streets lined with cheering people. Okay, maybe it wasn’t quite like that (the cheering people part, especially), but it was pretty much just a day of driving back to New York, non-stop. The only stop I made was in Hershey, Pennsylvania, home of the chocolate maker. Not much to see really, so it was a quick stop.

Took about six hours to drive the 300 miles from Somerset (including the Hershey and other pit stops), and from getting on the I-95 in New Jersey to making it to my Manhattan destination, unloading and parking for the night it took nearly two hours.

I love New York dearly and with a full heart, but I don’t ever want to drive in Manhattan ever again (well I have to, tomorrow). I have no idea how bus and taxi drivers can do this for a living, it was awful. Of course, as usual I managed to arrive right around afternoon rush hour, so it’s certainly not always this bad (and even by NYC standards having lived here for nine months), it was pretty damn bad out there today. But I suppose you don’t think about it all that much when you’re a pedestrian.

Anyone in New York bitching about the Metrocard price going up should be happy they don’t have to drive in this town, it makes even the worst subway commutes seem like a breeze.

But once parked, back on my feet, I couldn’t help but put on a big, broad grin. It’s such a shame I only have a few days before I have to be out of the country (I will consider marriage proposals).

I’m sure there’ll be many more posts with thoughts about all of this in the future, it’s been such a whirlwind adventure that I don’t think I’ve digested much of it, and right now I’m just really, really tired, happy and sad.

Day 65: Drowning Sorrows

It’s been a day of driving, and very little photographing. There’s really not all that much to say about it, it hasn’t been one of the better days, my mind has been absent thinking about other things, and much of what I passed today just wasn’t all that interesting either.

I did drive through Ohio’s Amish countryside however, which was a curious experience, not only seeing Amish people in their horse buggies or on bicycles, but seeing the exploitation of their culture that co-exists with it. The town of Berlin is the hub, the town itself looks like a tourist spot, lots of people and all these cutesy shops selling what-have-you. It’s kind of bizarre, and I can’t even imagine what it must be like to be one of the Amish and have your culture become a tourist destination, as if you’re animals in a zoo. Very strange.

After that I had a fixation that I really wanted to check out West Virginia, seeing as I only got to see a tiny little corner of it on the way west. It was one hell of a detour, and for the most part there wasn’t all that much to see, but I did get to drive a rather scenic road through the lush, green rolling hills where no towns line the road, just spots of civilization. There weren’t even that many places you could stop, so I didn’t get very many shots.

The drive ended in Weston, which was a really interesting little town. Maybe it was the dreary weather, but it really felt gloomy, kind of falling apart in that way West Virginia seems to (hard to describe, it just has a certain look and feel to it). The gloomy feel was probably also aggravated by the massive former state hospital/asylum whose grounds look like it takes up as much space and the town center across the creek. It was closed by the time I got there, but it was really cool to see if only from afar.

Heading north on the interstate, and making a few stops in Bridgeport and Clarksburg before daylight faded, the dreary clouds started pouring. I’ve been very fortunate this whole trip weather-wise, and that was probably the heaviest rain I’ve had so far.. But it would get worse.

After being turned away at the door at my planned (but unbooked) motel in Morganstown, West Virginia, the closest I could find in the right direction was in Somerset, Pennsylvania, some 80 miles away. Luckily it wasn’t terribly late at that point, but the road to Somerset offered even more and heavier rain, and on a tiny little curvy road too. Not only haven’t I had to drive in such heavy rain before on this trip, I don’t think I’ve ever had such fierce rainfall in my whole life.

It does seem fitting that the last night on the road mirrors so many past nights on this trip; driving along lonely, small, winding roads.

Day 64: MI + OH

Even though I didn’t get where I planned on going, not even close (which to begin with was a quite foolish goal), it was a good day, especially photographically. I will have to admit, I had very low expectations of the Midwest, especially knowing that by the time I’d get there, I would’ve seen pretty much everything else, so that’s nice to be able to say.

From Grand Rapids I headed to the Michigan Gold Coast and Saugatuck, though today it was more like the grey coast, grey and dreary. Saugatuck offered pretty much nothing of interest, so I quickly got back on the road, heading southeast towards Battle Creek. While not so much to write on, the drive did offer a few interesting bits here and there, as did Battle Creek. Past the city, to the southeast of it lies the town of Marshall, which has a historical downtown main street that actually deserves to be called historical. Considering how much of Michigan is (or is perceived) as being in a sorry state, it was nice to see a small town doing pretty good for itself.

I got on the interstate after that, and headed for Ann Arbor. Knowing I had no time for Detroit (sorry!), I figured I’d at least see some bigger Michigan city, and with Ann Arbor’s population being one third university students, I figured it would be a good bet for interesting things to see, and it was. I didn’t have much time, but I did get to see some of the very youthful downtown area, where I found a cool little shop named Acme Mercantile that sells all kinds of cool, retro stuff.

Back on the road, it was time to head for the last new state on this journey, Ohio. I had plans to head fairly south into Ohio, but time just wasn’t on my side so instead I decided to drive along the Lake Erie coast, which turned out to be a good choice. I’m only about 60 miles into Ohio, but I’ve already seen and photographed a whole lot of interesting, quirky things.

Right now I’m just outside of Sandusky, Ohio, which boasts a huge theme park, Cedar Point, which according to themselves is the rollercoaster capital of the world.

Day 63: Indiana

The day didn’t start out very well. When I was checking in at my motel last night, there was a man behind me in line, and we were waiting for another man to get checked in, which took a long time. When I finally was nearly done, had just swiped my card and signed the little electronic box, the guy just left as it was almost his turn. Being paranoid since my other card was fraudulently used (I still have no idea how that happened), I even took down the guy’s car license plate as he drove off, even though I can’t imagine he could’ve seen any numbers or anything.

So this morning I still figured I’d use an ATM to make sure I’d have some cash, just in case and first ATM, denied. Found another one, denied. “Uh oh,” I’m thinking. I have $30 on me. I headed to a nearby Super 8 (who had wifi) and asked if I could borrow some access to check my banking online, and it showed nothing fishy (though it’s not usually up to speed, it’s a few days before things pop up). So I called my bank, and the guy on the line told me there had been trouble with using cards at American ATMs (but not purchasing in-store), so that was a relief.

Being back in the eastern parts of the country also meant there was actually a Chase bank I could visit, and so I did, and left with a nice chunk of bills, just to be safe. Cash is king.

Anyway, after that whole ordeal, which set me back 90 minutes or so on a day I really didn’t need a delay, I headed up north a bit, then straight into rural Indiana, which is where I’ve spent most of the day. It really wasn’t a very exciting day at all, and it took almost half the day before I even got any kind of shots I liked. One odd thing though, and maybe it was affected by the bad start, but they didn’t seem to like me very much in Indiana. As I was taking a picture, one guy shouted at me as he passed, another one honked his horn. Maybe they were just alerting me they were coming to not ruin the shot, or they were just being dicks. I don’t know, but I kinda took it the latter way. A dog, a border collie, the friendliest dogs ever, barked at me. A kid asked me what I was doing (in an unfriendly way). It was strange. Not to say people from Indiana are unfriendly, but what the hell.

The day didn’t get interesting at all until I got to Logansport, a somewhat bigger town, a decaying, rusty kind of town, yet it was filled with all these (previously) beautiful houses, with most of them now in much sorrier states than they deserved. I even saw some churches that looked like they were abandoned, and if you ever go on a trip around America, you’ll know that no matter how poor, decaying a town is, you can bet that the churches there are in tip-top shape (the God business is recession-proof). So quite a lot of interesting sights there, too bad I couldn’t stay longer.

From Logansport, I headed north, past several not-quite-as-interesting towns, and just as I passed into Michigan the sun had set behind a lot of clouds, leaving me with a straight and fast road to Grand Rapids, tonight’s camp.