Homecoming

I just got back from a nice nostalgic trip around Walnut Township, Thurston, and Baltimore. I've been home for a couple of weeks now, but it still feels pretty surreal. It still feels like I am on Christmas vacation, and I will be headed back to Vancouver at any time now.



I left New Orleans (and it's Gulf and Bayou culture) knowing that I was solidly out of any kind of desert or Southwest. It's weird: I'm not sure exactly when the transition happened; probably somewhere in Texas, I couldn't tell. I was now going to slowly meander my way back into my most familiar culture: Southern into Midwestern.

Cruising along through Mississippi and Alabama, I dreamed of what those areas might look and feel like. I've written about stopping in Birmingham before, so I guess it isn't all alien. But it seemed rushed, but Nashville was the reward.

After getting into Nashville super late, I slept and prepared for a "touristy" day the next day. Once awake the next morning, I was greeted to a terrible terrible car noise. When I slowed down, whether it be coasting or braking, my car made this terrible scraping noise. I later learned that it was my front brakes which had pretty much been shot. Makes sense seeing as though they were never replaced and I was doing tons of mountain driving for the whole trip.

After a delicious biscuit breakfast and bus ride, I took the car into the shop. In the meanwhile, I explored Midtown Nashville. I found the Parthenon, which I had totally forgotten existed:

I also got coffee at one of the coolest coffee shops I have ever been to. Three Brothers Coffee folks. Check it out when you're in Nashville.

There was a surprisingly large amount of development going on in Nashville. Especially in a part of the city called The Gulch. New high-rises and apartments were going up like mad. I wonder what is making Nashville, Nashville all of a sudden?

After a night of seeing the bars and neon Broadway, I slept easy and took off for Ohio the next day. Soon enough I was in Kentucky, then Louisville, then Cincinnati, then Columbus. I rode the Outerbelt through the evening and pulled up to my family's house around 8 PM. I guess that ended the road trip?

Nashville's Broadway.

Same building looking the other way. So much neon.

Just like that, the trip was over. I ran to Pennsylvania the next day to spend Thanksgiving with my best friend and her family, so I guess that was technically a little add-on. But I've done that many times, and will do it many times more. So I don't think it really counts.

It's funny how such monumental things get off to, and end, in a simple low-key instant isn't it? There was no grand sending off party, no grand reception. Simply just pulling out off a curb parking space, and pulling into a driveway.

Today I watched the sunset over the Ohio plains, and it created a wondrous pink and red glow. I still contend that Ohio has some of the best sunsets I've ever seen. But this time there was no longing that I would not be able to experience that for a while longer, because I would most likely see the same thing tomorrow night, and for many nights after that. I don't know if that means it "lost value", but something about it is different.

As I toured around the countryside after my dentist appointments and errands in Lancaster, I couldn't help but feel so satisfied. I felt like I had done well, and that even though I went through some turbulent times and thoughts in my experience, I have concluded it well. Did I want to conclude it? Simply browse through some previous posts to see me wrestle with that. But in the end, I think it was the best decision.

While I want to keep exploring, keep driving into places unknown, I also am comfortable right here for right now. It's an amazing feeling knowing that you're home.
























I've been struggling with how/if I should end this blog. Aside from the name being the obvious moniker that is not true, it feels like I've solidly transitioned onto another step of my life. Or at least into an "in-between" spot. And it doesn't feel "right" to keep posting here and keep up with a theme if I'm not geographically in the spot to experience said theme. Maybe I will create a new blog later, and if so, you will know about it. But for now, expect this one to be wrapped up for the most part.

If you would like to still keep up with me in a more personal/reflective note, please check out my other blog: "Wonderful Ramblings of Life" I will keep that one semi-updated with things going on that are not specifically place based but simply life based. Check it out here: http://wonderfulramblingsoflife.blogspot.com/

Casinos, Lights, and High Dry Desert

Since last blog post I have been traveling across the desert Southwest for a couple of days. I started out after Death Valley going into Vegas. What a difference from the flat desolate landscape of the salt flats 200 feet below sea level. Coming into town the lights, billboards, and advertisements were overwhelming:

I had never seen anything like it before. A whirlwind of modern and intricate displays lined Las Vegas Boulevard, up and down the strip. Each casino an estate to itself.

New York, New York Casino, complete with mock ups of iconic skyscrapers.

All of this reminded me that only a mere 30 miles away was one of the largest and most popular dams in America. The Hoover Dam.

This beast of a dam has 8 generators total, four in each state whose line it spans. The electricity flows directly to Las Vegas. On top of the dam itself was numerous pieces of artwork to commemorate such a massive undertaking in America. The style was solidly Art Deco, but if you've ever played Bioshock, you'll see that it goes beyond the simple mosaics and geometrical patterns. It goes to an Ayn Rand level of industrial conquest. One piece that stood out was the memorial to the workers who died while constructing the dam:

The text that flows across the middle (through the worker) reads:

"They died to make the desert bloom."

The worker is shown in a struggle with water coming up to his waist. On either side is more information and commemoration to the memorial.

It's this attitude I think only native Southwestern people can understand. I still have a hard time comprehending why exactly people would want to settle in such harsh environments (such as the desert), let alone want to develop such an area to attract others. It just seems like there is too much work to justify creating an area where people can live, especially if there was no incentive beforehand.

I did learn that the Hoover Dam's prime purpose was flood control and water storage, which does make a lot of sense because the Colorado River controls so many flood plains and irrigation for a massive part of the Southwest. In the old visitors center there was a program that highlighted how the Hoover Dam (and other dams) helped provide water and flood control (as well as power) to communities all throughout the southwest.

But it still confuses me as to why people would settle there in large droves to begin with. Why not stick with the fertile and rainy lands of the east? Why did we need to continue and conquer the desert?

The dam had many motifs to this, and I guess the best reason I can come up with is because we could. Because the people of that time wanted to show their dominion over the land, and did so. It still is hard for me to grasp to this day, and I still wonder why we didn't just leave the desert alone, because I cannot fathom that ideal of conquering and manifest destiny.

After enjoying what Vegas had to offer (public drinking, smoking in buildings, etc.) I headed out for the Grand Canyon. The Grand Canyon seemed kind of underwhelming compared to what I had heard of it. The entire place had signs and guides ensuring that people did not get lost, and that you knew what you were getting into if you were planning on hiking down into the canyon. 

Also, that is snow you see on the edge there. The park was ridiculously snowy and icy, which was reassuring because there was a mile drop if you slipped and fell. We did run into some folks who were gearing up to go hiking down to Phantom Ranch (the lowest point in the Canyon where there is a popular campground). They were wearing shorts & sandals to hike a mile down into the Canyon, and I wonder how they did.

I feel like I should have had more awe and inspiration when I visited, but I couldn't muster myself to appreciate it nearly as much. The Grand Canyon 

After the Canyon I went to Flagstaff to spend the night. There were snow covered mountains, and the "desert" ended up colder with a lot more trees than I thought.

A whirlwind through New Mexico followed. More snow covered mountains came and went, and I eventually descended into Santa Fe. It is amazing to think that such a city has been around since the 1600's. Such old establishments and culture in America, a place that in my mind started in 1776.

After Santa Fe & Albuquerque I traveled to Carlsbad Caverns and saw the massive cave system. The elevators were broken, so I wasn't able to go up or down directly to the cave, although I think I got more from hiking in and back out than I would have by going back up in the elevator. A sense of accomplishment, if you will.

After New Mexico, I hauled across Texas. I know that Texas is a place, and that people live there and take pride in it, but I was running out of time, and I had no desire to stay and see anywhere in the state. Keeping at 80 miles an hour across the oil fields and through the swamps, I barreled towards Louisiana, and New Orleans.