You can't get what you want

Till you know what you want. I wasn't ready to be on a gypsy tirade. I spent 6 years without roots, living in a house I knew would never be permanent, and living on the road was becoming just a more intense version of that. Plus, I apparently don't have the patience to drive all day anymore. Seemed romantic and liberating but it was mostly boring and lonely. I have goals that have been waiting a long time to be started towards, seemed silly to head off on new ones. Was nice while it lasted though.

I'll be at Kate & Matt's in Lunenburg, MA for the forseeable future. I'll be posting here as I make decisions but it'll be completely for my own journalling; I don't expect anyone to be interested in my daily trials and thought processes :-)

jim

Turning Point

WEDNESDAY

Woke at 8:30 to continuing rain, and it was 10 by the time I left. Didn't bother with breakfast, since the latter 'B' of B&B wasn't happening as the proprietor was in NC for a family emergency. Just as well. While the room was comfortable, the place wasn't very friendly feeling. I hit 13 south and then 86 west and started thinking.

Thinking about how long it would take to get to Dearborn.

Then how long it would take to get across the plains.

And the Rockies.

There's a major storm in the Rockies closing roads.

Then it's another day to Seattle.

I have a lot of things left unfinished and unorganized at home, and despite being able to leave them as is almost indefinitely, they are weighing me down. This trip was supposed to be a mind clearing introspective on what to do next, with life, job, career.

As I sit in a Panera in Elmira, NY, watching all of Elmira pour in, slamming the ill-damped door every time, I'm seriously contemplating turning around.

Day 2

TUESDAY.

Today was a sort of non-day, mileage-wise. After availing myself of the breakfast at Vassar, I set the GPS on a no-highway course to Corning. I could get there by afternoon and take the glass factory tour. But first, some daylight pics of the House. The Great Room was just too dark and mercilessly sucked all the light from my flash, so I mucked with the display settings in Preview.

Some more pics from the hall:

The door is open against the wall.

I hit the road (Rt 28 for those of you following along at home) and make it through downtown Kingston, starting to climb into the Catskills, and I see a sign. 375 Woodstock.

Hmmm. Why not?

Ok. How unmarked can the greatest musical event in history be? I mean, there are probably *still* people trying to leave. So I drive...and drive...see a marker for Maverick Music but that's a red herring; some very small field from longer ago. I see nothing. The best I can find on the GPS is Woodstock Museum. Aha! Surely that will lead me somewhere...

An hour and several beautiful but tight roads later, I find the museum. It's...small. And homeley. That's because it is someone's home. Sure, they've built a dec^H^H^Hstage in front of their house, and have a colorful school bus rusting in their yard, but if the curator was expecting guests I didn't want to be one.

Back to my pre-programmed course to Corning. An hour later, I pass Rt 212, the road the museum was off. Just did One. Big. Circle. I re route the GPS for Ithaca and get in about 3:30. Have a lovely conversation with the lovely English girl at the Visitor's Center and get a room at the Wild Goose B&B, in Eco Village, a self-sustaining collection of townhouses built on a bluff 10 miles out of town. Cheaper by almost half than anything else at $65, and is definitely "interesting". Room is very nice, village is unsurprisingly granola.

http://ecovillageithaca.org/evi/

I skipped the community supper (featuring all locally grown organic food) in favor of hitting downtown. In retrospect I should have stuck around. I huffed my way (Ithaca is hilly) to the Chapter House, with dozens of beers on tap and seisiun music. Had a Victory Brewing Storm king Stout. On an empty stomach.

http://www.chapterhouseithaca.com/

http://beeradvocate.com/beer/profile/345/1013

Some of you will have seen that the stout's 9.1%. Feeling the inevitable, I excuse myself from the bar and huff up 2 hills to the Nines, an awesome pizza place. Fresh, deep dish slices as big as Ohio. Spinach and mushroom and 3 lbs of mozzarella. 30 minutes later I'm heading back to the bar, music is happening, but it's warm, and I'm stuffed, and after 30 mins I'm drowsy enough to head back to the B&B.

At 2am I wake to the sound of rain. Specifically, the sound of big drops hitting a sheet metal surface. TANG. Tang. Tang. TANG TANG. Tang. TANG TANG. As I contemplate ripping the offending metal from it's moorings, I look at the weather. Rain all day Wed, big snowstorm in the plains.

Hmm...

Shifting Gears

On Friday 10/23/09, I sold the house I'd been working on since 2003, when I was laid off from Cisco. I learned a lot about remodeling, especially the economics. With no house, job, or other ties, I'm embarking on a road trip to figure out what's next. What follows is the trip report, hastily cobbled together from best-effort memory and poor photographs.

Tonight, Monday, I sit in the great room of the Vassar College Alumnae House in Poughkeepsie, NY. It is a large, stately, Tudor style inn, now a B&B open to the public, and sits on a wooded hill on the corner of campus. Entire hardwood forests were cleared to build and outfit this place. A grand piano, usually the centerpiece of any room, sits in the corner, insultingly dwarfed by the corbels and beams on the 18' ceiling. The front doors are 200-lb slabs of oak, with wrought iron handles and grills. Sadly, no knockers.

My room, a "cubicle room", is one of the many spartan 6 x 10 single bed units, with small desk and dormer window. It borders on claustrophobic. There are two public toilet rooms and bath rooms on the floor, lavishly fitted with the same Kohler square sinks I had in my house. For $140, I could have gotten an en suite unit, but for $68, this is still worlds better from a $100 Holiday Inn Express room on busy Rt 9. Sadly for this place, there are no other dorm guests and I have the floor to myself.

Dinner was at the Beech Tree Grill, conveniently across the street and the only place with decent sit-down dining within walking distance. I had pumpkin & red pepper soup, and loin of rabbit with beet slaw and pumpkin coulis. The presentation was impressive and I took a picture, but my crappy camera made it look like those bad Japanese picture menus. Maybe a new camera tomorrow.

I started this trip yesterday (Sun 10/25), taking 3 hours to extricate myself from the Stoney's, who were generous beyond words in housing me for the final 2 weeks of the house sale that needed exceeding amounts of handholding. All the necessary posessions for living on the road crammed into the car, I met them in Meriden, CT where Sam (father) & Elliott (son) were competing in a NETRA trials event. 8 year old Elliott aced his division but it was all over by the time I got there at 3pm.

The phone rings, and Vacek, just outside Hartford CT, would be delighted to feed and house me for the night. I arrive at his project, a 1773 colonial style house he's restoring, hold some tools, drink some beer, and at dusk we head to his real home for hearty meal of pasta, sausage and wine.

I sleep well, and in the morning, armed with not much plan at all, head towards Rt 44, aiming for Dutchess County, NY. I've always been drawn to the area and it was time for exploring. Halfway there I decide to hit Hyde Park, home of a few museums and national parks. The blasted GPS won't route me to a town; it needs a full address, and I choose 400 Albany Post Rd. It's likely to be a main road and I can decide when I get there.

Rt 4 out of Hartford goes through some heartwrenchingly beautiful country, and I peel off 4 to follow a "Covered Bridge" sign. I arrive in quaint West Cornwall CT, where indeed a covered bridge crosses the Housatonic River.

I follow Rt 7 south through Housatonic Meadows State Park, a road, like so many others around here, made for motorcycling. I urge everyone to ditch your responsibilities and get here during this most spectacular of seasons.

I join Rt 44 near Amenia, NY and drive past a stone castle.

I am routed off 44 and through many residential roads, and when I finally emerge from the forest I'm at a red light, quite hungry, and with the Culinary Institute of America in front of me. Maybe this GPS isn't so bad...

The guard informs me that yes, I can get lunch there. I queue up at the very busy Apple Pie cafe, where they won't take your dining-in order until there's seating for you. I change my seating preference to sitting-under-arbor-staring-at-the-Hudson and in 10 minutes I have my "Lo mein, edammame, scallions, snow pea, red pepper, roasted peanuts, bean sprouts, shiitake mushrooms, and cilantro dressed in peanut oil vinaigrette. Served with a lime wedge." On the way out the line has grown to about 40 people, now running about 2 hours' wait.

After lunch I drive north a few miles to the Franklin Delano Roosevelt house. A nice presidential estate with library and escape house. FDR is ranked #3 of all presidents. You can read all about it here:

I also caught the last tour of the Vanderbilt Mansion. One of 41 or so, it is the coziest, built for two adults with no children. My jaw is still somewhere on the floor of the mansion. It is mind boggling how much money one could amass in the days before anti-trust laws and income taxes.