"That’s why I love road trips, dude. It’s like doing something without actually doing anything." – John Green
I am on a road trip. I love road trips.
I don't drive. I never have, and I'm sure I never will. I'm not rabidly anti-car, but some might think so. I have always enjoyed a road trip, however, and am pretty sure that, collectively considered, they count as one of the 500 people, places or things that define Jim Shedden. I am grateful to the various drivers who drove, and never complained about my less stressful contribution to the various journeys.
Shellie has been the main driver. We are presently driving along the I-79S through West Virginia. We're en route to Winston-Salem University where Meredith is at an intensive musical theatre program at Wake Forest University. We'll hang there for a few days until she's done and then we're taking the long way home via Richmond VA, Washington DC, New York, Boston, and Syracuse (!). And Shellie and I spent the last two nights in a city that's close to our hearts, Pittsburgh.
(Before I forget, some of the other drivers who have allowed me to pursuit life on the road include my father, my late mother, my sister Lisa, Kate MacKay, Thom Olsen, Art Wilson, Mike Zryd, Wilma Sanson, and Sherri Somerville. Thanks to all.)
Chance has already taken us to a great little restaurant in a drab new strip mall, itself contained within a generic roadside hotel and chain restaurant development. We literally went inside Cody's because Meredith has a good friend called Kody. Anyhow, that this restaurant wasn't a chain - more like a local tavern with a very idiosyncratic menu - was surprising enough. That our meals were quite amazing, well, who knew? The point is that I have to be on the road, or maybe on a train, to find out what people in West Virginia (or Castelgar or Utrecht or wherever) are really like. My prejudices are always dispelled.
"Nothing behind me, everything ahead of me, as is ever so on the road." – Jack Kerouac
Memorable road trips. In the early 1990s, I went on three month-long road trips in the south. There was Texas with my friend Wilma; Kentucky-Tennessee-Mississippi with Nick, Kate, Thom, and Kate and Thom's dog Memphis; and South Carolina-Georgia-Alabama-Mississippi-Louisiana with Shellie. Each trip was naive, eye opening, and sometimes ill-advised. I barely knew Wilma, and Shellie and I hadn't been dating long when we decided to take three trips together that first year. Kate and I hadn't broken up for too long when that trip made sense.
It all worked out. I stayed in shitholes ("the Bleek 'n Reek) in Beaver Lick, Kentucky, not far from Big Bone Lick. I discovered great barbecue on all three trips, when we had zero barbecue in Toronto. I especially loved the gigantic Moonlite Barbecue in Owensboro KY, where I first had burgoo, and Ollie's BBQ (and bibles) in Birmingham. I had my life changed in Marfa where we saw Donald Judd's Chinati Foundation; and I miss the brand of energy I had when Shellie and I made the trek to see Marc Savoy at his accordion factory in the heart of Louisiana (see various Les Blank films for reference).
I have been emotionally, intellectually and creatively moulded by these trips, not to mention driving to and from Boulder to shoot my film on Brakhage; a childhood trip through the US to Florida, camping the whole way with my parents and sisters (I was 5); many drives to Montreal, Quebec City, Ottawa, and Halifax; a trip up to Marathon in 1998 to visit Bonnie, Mario, and their kids; a wonderful road trip with Meredith and Shellie in 2009 through New York State and Massachusetts (many highlights). Oh, and then there was Calgary to Nelson and back (with many stops) (1998).
My friendships with Kelly, John, Ella, and Will have been deepened on many road trips, short and long. South from SF to LA one trip, Monterey on another and north to Portland were as much fun as anything.
Each trip, like those on the West Coast is a revelation of natural or human-designed beauty that has been entirely unexpected. That was true on a dozen trips with both families to Pittsburgh to visit our friend Jessica, that city's topographical and architectural beauty always coming as a shock.
I've never done a road trip in Europe. Train and bus trips through England/Wales/Scotland, and trains around Switzerland, The Netherlands, Belgium, and Germany. That is a whole other thing that I romance, and maybe a car trip around Europe would be similar to one in the US: I think the relentless mikes and miles of forest and desert would be missing, as would the pockets of banality that punctuate the experience. Still, if you want to take me on such a trip, I'm in.
I'm grateful that Shellie likes to break up trips as much as possible. Neither of us have that "making time" compulsion. For me, that need to stretch out the trip had been made more acute by a couple of physical and cognitive conditions that make long trips almost impossible. The worse of these is restless legs syndrome (which should be called restless body syndrome), which I won't get into right now, but it makes this whole thing rather difficult.
Speaking of personal challenges, one of my favourite things to do when I'm on the road is to go to local AA meetings. It's always super grounding and humbling. So, that's a reminder to self.
"Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life." – Jack Kerouac
