“The air was soft, the stars so fine, the promise of every cobbled alley so great, that I thought I was in a dream.”
– Jack Kerouac, On the Road
It’s going to be a middle America road trip this week. Later today I fly out to Colorado Spring for a conference that I’m speaking at. I’ll return to DC briefly on T night and W, only to ship back out to Detroit for a meeting at Ford and Chicago for Lollapalooza (image by Nicholas T).
Usually, I dread road trips. Lately, I’ve been looking forward to them. I need the solace and the forced quiet of the planes, hotel rooms and empty restaurants. There’s something about being a nobody with zero responsibility and no expectations, and really, an almost unwritten hope that you’ll just be quiet.
You meet neat people on the road sometimes, but it’s always unexpected. It’s a turn of fate, you just do what you are supposed to, and pop, “unintended eskimos” appear with strange and unique insights.
Sometimes I imagine getting lost on the road for months. One of my favorite trips was my return from the dot bomb in the summer of 99, driving along I-94 and 90 back east. It was amazingly beautiful, full of spiritual development, and soul enriching. Hopefully, I can take a more leisurely drive across America.
This time I’ll be flying and meeting friends at each juncture, so we’ll just take it as it comes. It’s the alone time that I’m craving.