6/28- In The Field

I drove Shelly into work again early Sunday morning, but not to use the car this time. Instead, it was to save time once she got out of work so that I could pick her up at noon to get to Hillsdale for an important rendezvous. Todd would be meeting his Dad for the second time in his life.

I spent the morning editing pictures and playing with Timber until it was time to go. Grabbing Shelly in Wauseon we drove an hour north back to Hillsdale to meet up with Todd again. I think she was fairly nervous as well, and I was a bit tired, so there was little said on the ride.

Todd was waiting, dressed up as much as one can get dressed up from backpack attire, hanging out at the gas station across from his Mom's place. The deal was that he and Shelly were going to Marshall to meet him and I would hang out for the afternoon at the gravel pit so they could have the privacy of family for the occasion. I was more than happy to oblige this arrangement both for them and for me.

So that was how it played out that I landed myself in a cornfield, on my own, in the middle of Michigan for about seven hours on a beautiful summer afternoon. As soon as they dropped me off I tromped into the pit, dropped my pack fetching my untested sling shot in the process and took to target practice for an hour. Following that I wandered up to the ruins of his old house that he'd grown up in to take some pictures. I felt a bit like a kid again running around in the dingle with nothing to do but explore.

After mucking about around the house a while I returned to the pit to fetch my items. Doing a tour of the grounds I found a perfect little nook by the rim of the pit, under a tree by the corn, to recline for the rest of the day.

I was getting a bit hungry, having had nothing but coffee once again, so I broke out the stove to cook and lighten my load in one action. I read, took more photos in the corn fields, wrote letter, and ate up there for the rest of the day. It was heaven. A slice of it at least. A tiny taste of where I wanted to be more permanently, and was getting anxious to get there.

While fooling with my camera in the corn there did come about some bad news. I attempted to use the old school timer on my Nashika and ended up busting the damn thing completely. Luckily I had finished up the roll that was in there just before hand, but the clicker to snap the pictures no longer does anything.

Eight O'clock rolled around and so returned Todd and Shelly. There had been some mix up as to when lunch was supposed to be, but in the end the whole meet went quite well. Shelly returned us to Hillsdale once more and there we said our final goodbyes.

We were staying at Bob's once again. Todd had been for the past week while I was in Ohio, but now was the time to figure out our exit from the area on a whole. The odd part was, the two of us sitting around the fire pit, Bob off at work for the night, both of us felt it wasn't yet time to go. This Wednesday thing was still nagging at me and it apparently was nagging at Todd too.

Neither one of us could explain it at all. We took stabs, guesses, looked into meanings and feelings on it, but all we could get was that leaving before then seemed premature even though we both were now ready to go. The only things we could draw from our analysis was that it definitely seemed like a continued lesson in sitting and shutting up, and that we thought what ever it was would show itself Wednesday probably late afternoon. Honest to God, we could pin a time frame around it now. I thought it'd be how we'd leave the area too, but I'd turn out only to be half right on that.

6/27- Over Heated

Todd and I both have talked on many occasions here about this idea of synchronicity. The idea that things or people will appear right when you need them, assuming that you've got your head on straight to begin with. We've also gotten into how it works in reverse as well, such as down in Maryland as we tried to be the great explorers of the known world, and south Jersey insisting that we Forest Gump our way north rather than just friggin' hop on a train and get there. There'll be a quiz at the end of this chapter on these principles. I bring them up, however, because this week in June I was to be slapped in the face with the wet fish of the world to tell me to sit down and shut up again and let other things out of my control play themselves out.

This little display of Heavenly spanking took no time in making its disappointment in me known. Tuesday's god awful heat was just the beginning of an impressive heat wave that would hang in the area through Thursday. Todd talks about Beaver Cleaver being a cutter, well, Ole Blue returned to his sadistic ways of Colorado and had been chopping at my lower back from the excessive weight and poor hip belt design. Then, on Wednesday morning, I rose from my briar patch to the hum of waking mosquito wings and quickly executed my exit to the road thinking of how much I'd really like a breakfast that morning but had no intention of lingering. Instead, I returned to the black top and made for a guard rail over a creek a hundred yards ahead where I could set up my nifty little alcohol stove, and cook one of my nifty little camp meals of ham and eggs that Todd's friend Steve had sent us.

Everything worked splendidly. There was a nice patch of shade to cook in out of the omnipresent heat, and those camp meals really do cook up incredibly easy and taste incredibly good; surprisingly it actually tasted like ham and eggs almost exactly. The problem was that its so easy it only requires a smidge of boiled water, so the amount of fuel I'd put in the stove was a bit much. Me being me (i.e. needlessly time oriented and dumb as a stone) I tried to pick the burning stove up with the pot handle to toss the remainder of the burning fuel into the creek so that the stove could cool down enough to pack by the time I finished eating. Instead, the fire of this portable kitchen hearth ran up my arm to my elbow freaking the bejesus out of me causing me to spill some of said burning fuel onto my pack burning a hole through the side and through the back of my rain parka. Good job, Chris... dumb ass.

The ham and eggs really were good though. I let the fuel burn out in its own time after that and sat down to enjoy my scrumptious breakfast to that outdoorsy smell of burnt arm hair. In good time I packed everything back up and sauntered off down the road again toward Swanton, my hand stinging just a bit from 2nd degree burns. Three miles later I arrived in town dripping of sweat having taken three or four breaks along the way. The heat was some where in the mid-90's that day with the embelishment of probably 100% humidity to complete that nice oven fresh feel. I plopped in at the library in town for a good two to three hours of air conditioning, which normally I'm not a fan of but today it felt amazing.

By 3pm, however, I decided I was going to head back out on the road again having lingered long enough toying on Facebook and checking my email every half hour on the half hour in complete procrastination to going back out again. I was heading to Shelly's to retrieve my Rt. 66 mug that I'd left in her car on Sunday. My plan at the time was to pop in, say hi, then hit the roads in full swing and possibly see if I could hitch down to Indianapolis for the weekend to see an acquaintance down there. I say acquaintance because I don't really know the guy all that well, it just seemed like a good place to head to and say hi to someone familiar instead of sitting around waiting to see if Todd was going to want to stay yet another week or not in Hillsdale. While at the library, however, I saw that I was not to be received down there, and returning to the heat once more I was beginning to see the folly of my wanting to be Mr. Wanderlust Man for the weekend just to feel salty again.

I was a wet sponge of steam heated sweat being dragged over a tar marble road. Downing the last of my little energy-in-a-bottle things, like that one Karen had given me back in Denver, I cast out my last ditch effort to not making myself miserable and boosting my energy to crawl seven miles. I made it three before a guy pulled up next to my wandering carcass and asked if I needed a ride. The usual flash of my typical Walking response of "Oh no, I'm walking across the country" dawned briefly in my mind and the rest of my sun fried brain bitch slapped that little quote across the face managing to expel "that would be amazing, please" with a dopey smile suddenly crossing my face. Five minutes later I was sitting on Shelly's back patio, splayed out on her lawn couch.

Shelly would be a little while longer at work, however, so I made my way up to the A/C of the Delta library where I confirmed with her via Facebook that it would be okay for me to stay the night that night. By evening, we were back to sitting around the TV, relaxing, and eating dinner.

"We humans are a little dumb sometimes" was an apt quote to kick off my week that week, no wonder it had struck me so. Sitting here in the luxury of Shelly's hospitality I was still of the confounded mindset of wondering whether or not I'd be staying the next night. The heat, the humidity, the absurd weight of Ole Blue, and the cuts in my lower back from it had still not convinced me entirely not to drift off and fuck around on the road just because I had the time on my own to. I was even consciously reading the signs that were telling me quite specifically "Dude, sit down, shut up, and take this time to refocus your stupid ass." The omniverse can be quite crass in its language, you know, says spiritual guru Friar Chris. Instead it took two days of languishing procrastination, and the thick barricade of a humidity wall outside, to make me realize I was in the most perfect place for myself right there on Shelly's couch. Even with that giant burn blister on my right hand knuckle staring me in the face telling me disaster loomed if I set off again.

Thankfully I did listen in the end, though I fear that this display of obvious indication was the world at large's last straw with me and that the next time I don't listen to such signs I'll be on my own. Time to sharpen up and start paying attention again. It was a good few days, however. After moaning about not getting to go out and play I did manage to sit myself down and recognize that something else is brewing out there that needs me to just wait here a little longer. I talked with Todd some about this, and he seems to be in a similar state of mind. He seems to want to go, but knows he needs to stay just a bit longer. Had we pressed ourselves into leaving last weekend he would have missed his shot at meeting his Dad again this upcoming Sunday. There was a reason it didn't occur to us to just set off despite both of us wanting to. On that same logic (which I know many of you would argue is not logic, but it is to me after this concentration of experiences) I think the gateway west will open up after that meeting and something will lay itself out. If I were to guess when, I would say next Wednesday, but I couldn't say how or why, I just think things will work out that way despite me wanting to go now.

6/23- Beth

Again I missed the house heading off to work, though I'd kind of figured I would and said my goodbyes the night before. The plan for today was to meet up with Ang's friend Beth who I'd half assedly tried to call the week before when I was in Curtice, but made the serious attempt from Dave and Lindsay's with great success. I also figured out where the school was that Loreli had attended on a scholarship and a nearby library where I could meet Beth at. The school was the landmark I had thought I was heading to the day before on my meander.

After my morning coffee I packed up my things I said goodbye to the house, this time heading north along the river. The heat had kicked up a notch hitting probably somewhere in the 90s. It was a three mile walk to the library and it was time to get a taste of just how stupid I had been about piling so much weight in Ole Blue. Dripping in sweat I found my way to her old school and got a picture, then back to the library just as it opened its doors at noon. Beth would be meeting me there at 1pm and I was allotted an hour on the computer, so the timing worked out perfectly.

Most of my time was consumed by a really impressive, insightful email from my friend Marion, whom I'd met up with in NYC last month for the first time in 13 years. I had received it when I got to the library the day before but only had time to read it and not respond. This was a fortunate slight of timing in that I needed another reading to really soak in everything she had to say comparing many of the similarities between our fathers' situations among other outlooks. I did my best to articulate a decent response of insights right back, but I don't think my fingers were properly connected to my head for accurate communication. A small taste of what she said that I've taken with me was that "we humans are a little dumb sometimes". Succinctly summing up this lesson I keep having to relearn, and am in the process of relearning again, that we can be told the exact solution to all our ailments in life but we won't soak them up until we learn them ourselves. That's where the incessant lesson of patience keeps biting me on the ass, and has been nibbling on mine with relentless vigor for the past week or two.

Not long after my time was up there Beth arrived on cue to ferry me away through Ang's past this time. I liked Beth immediately. She didn't know what to do with the day either, but was just as content to drive around aimlessly as I was. We spent a little while trying to find the "crackhead" apartment Ang had told me about, which was when she lived above a crack den. Then we settled on lunch at Freeway, which was a favorite greasy spoon of theirs from back in the day.

Our waitress was adorable. Beth had gotten a sundae, while I indulged in a cheeseburger, but was one to take her time with it. The little old lady kept popping by wondering why she hadn't completely gorged herself on it in a fury and insisted that she'd failed us and given her a bad sundae. When we left we'd intended to get a picture of the two of us in front of the old haunt, but in true tradition we both completely forgot about it until we had long left.

From there we parked downtown by the river and strolled along the waterfront, another favorite past time of theirs. While there Ang happened to call to check in and make sure we had actually connected, so they talked for a bit while I looked over the Maumee River. Afterward we wandered our way into a three storey antique shop for an hour or so picking through the goods.

Ultimately the day was just spent moseying about talking about what she's up to these days, and what the two of them used to do before Ang lit off to Denver. After the antique store we drove around a little until I realized I should probably start thinking about where I'd be camping out that night. Beth drove me out about a mile past the western loop of I-475 on Rt. 2 and wished me well from there. On our way out of town we talked about the possibility of her visiting Ang later in the summer, so we split ways with the notion of maybe seeing each other again out in Denver.

It was about 6pm when she dropped me off leaving me a good amount of time to walk a ways and ferret out a good place to bed down for the night. Where I'd gotten a taste of the unwieldy weight I'd put on in my pack, now I began to get the full dose. The heat had risen up to somewhere in the mid-90s if not higher with 100% humidity, and my pack was now likely around 60 lbs. After about two or three miles I picked up quite a bit of water as well to cook with that night sending the pack back up to probably 70 lbs. The weight wasn't as much the problem as the design of it was at that weight. It began cutting into my back.

By 8pm I'd made it three miles down Rt. 2 and another mile down a side road that would become County Rd. J. I was drenched with sweat, overheated, exhausted from the excess weight, and starting to be in pain from the poor hip belt design carving little holes over where I think my kidneys are. I ducked into a dense little thicket about an acre big and dropped down into a swarm of mosquitoes. I had been hoping to cook a nice meal with all that water I'd picked up, but was so aggravated by the assault of vampiric little needles that I just flopped out my bivy and scooted in as quickly as I could to escape. I was, however, pleasantly surprised that I didn't roast in the open sun while it was still out over the next two hours, but instead was treated to breathable cool shade as well as shielded from the bugs. After an hour of watching the swarms persisting against the mesh I dared letting a hand out to my bag in order to dig up Bob's bug coils he'd given us. Lighting a few of those cleared the air in a few minutes to the point where I could pop my head out and lay out under the setting sun for the night.

6/22- A Simpler Day

Monday morning wafted itself through my windows on the wave of a building muggy heat. Despite my early night I'd slept in and missed the house departing. I had called Hannah the night before saying I wasn't going to make the BBQ but would be up for hanging out Monday. Moseying down to the kitchen I made some coffee and gave her a call to see what was going on.

Hannah seemed a spunky kind of girl, very artistic and energetic, which wasn't a surprise to me given that she's friends with Loreli. She invited me to head out to a bicycle museum that was free and a few other things going on around town. After sitting on the front porch having my coffee and writing a little I made my way to her house, following that familiar route of yesterday morning. When I got there, however, I knocked on the door to a harried cry of "Sorry, Chris, can't come out. Work called last minute and I gotta go in. Sorry." In my lazy mood at that time and slowly dawning need for reclusion I was actually quite alright with that outcome. Sure I was curious to meet Loreli's friends from another time, but at this point I felt as though I might be pushing myself beyond what I should be doing with myself.

I took the last minute changes as an opportunity to go for a long walk on my own and get myself sorted again. There was a vague map in my head of different spots Loreli had marked as notable to her upbringing so I aimed myself their way. It turned out to be entirely in the opposite direction to where those places actually were, but that was neither here nor there at the moment. I turned myself south and walked about two or three miles down one street, found out I was going in completely the wrong direction and turned myself around to head in the right one.

Mostly I just wanted the walk. I strolled along side the edge of a country club eating the mulberries growing in the trees along the way. My brain wasn't even really thinking of anything, I think it was just undoing the knots I'd twisted myself up into somehow. I'm still not even quite sure how I got myself into this state, I just knew I was feeling it and walking untangles it. By about 3 in the afternoon I found myself at a library and popped in for an hour before returning home again.

It was another lazy night at the house again and I got a bit of the story behind how Loreli had come to be there. They had played a very similar role in Loreli's life as my mom had for one of my sister's friends back when I was growing up after my parents had split. The short story of it was that when there was trouble at home and Loreli needed a place to go Dave and Lindsay opened up their home to her despite not really having any connection as far as I could tell previous to that. From then on they were family to the point where Izzy now calls them Pop Pop and Mimi, and they have another daughter.

The night wound down to Jon Stewart and ice cream and soon I'd be shuffling back out on to the road again.

6/21- Dave & Lindsay

Dave and Lindsay were the next step in my research into Loreli's past. I had originally thought that they lived in Delta, but as previously mentioned, I discovered they lived down in the heart of Toledo. These were a curious pair I was quite excited to meet. Though they aren't Loreli's parents, they essentially are and I'd never quite understood how that worked. I knew the idea, but didn't know the logistics of it.

I awoke to some more coffee at gramma's house with Cyndal and Steven as their gramma had a TV mass in the living room. Soon enough, however, Shelly returned to give me a lift east to the city as she was heading there anyway to see her aunt. With goodbyes and sincere thank yous to Loreli's grandmother and siblings for having me I was soon shuttled off to the next chapter of me prying into Loreli's mysterious childhood. What a little snoop I am.

With only a few wrong turns here and there we were soon pulling into the driveway of my new hosts. I knew they weren't going to be in at the time so as Shelly drove off I stood in the driveway plotting my next move. It was Father's Day as well and I'd decided to shift my phone day from Saturday to Sunday for obvious reasons. With an active phone for the day, however, I decided to go for a walk and try Loreli's friend Hannah who lived around one of the corners in the area.

I walked down toward the river making calls to some other friends first before touching base with Hannah. When I got a little ways in the sweltering heat I decided sitting on Dave and Lindsay's porch probably wouldn't freak them out, as they are expecting me anyway, so I turned around and walked back the half mile I'd walked. When I got back to their porch I tried Hannah who offered to come out and meet me, so I about faced one more time and retraced the path I'd just walked in the heat to meet up with her. When we did meet up we walked a bit further toward her house before Lindsay called saying they were home now. I turned back around again, this time with Hannah, and we walked together with her dog back to the house again. I felt a little ridiculous having tread the same turf four times in an hour once I got back to the house, but once in we all settled on the porch over coffee.

Dave and Lindsay had obviously known Hannah from when Loreli was living there through out high school so they had much to catch up on. Dave had also just returned from a business trip to DC and Montreal so he had much to share as well. I was quite happy with that since it allowed me to just sit back, enjoy my coffee, and just listen to them catching up with each other. Hannah stayed about an hour before having to head back home, leaving me with an invite to hang out at a BBQ that night if I felt up to it.

We sat for a bit longer on the front porch getting to know each other a bit before normal routine set back in for the day. Dave and Lindsay set me up in the guest bedroom, then head off to the grocery store for dinner supplies leaving me to settle in to the house. This was quite a blessing for me. With all of my bouncing from being a guest in one house to the next over the past 7 weeks starting at Wendy's house down in Corbin City, NJ I was starting to be a blathering idiot of spouting "thank you, thank you" every five seconds. One of those incessantly polite house guests that unintentionally makes the hosts feel uncomfortable. Lindsay politely jostled me in the right direction of seeing that, and the time on my own to settle into the house gave me time to set my head on straight again. I don't know if I was entirely successful, but it was a start.

I sat on the back patio and opened up the phone. I talked to my Dad for Father's Day and Loreli catching her up on how my visit with her grandmother had gone. I also tried Angela's friend Beth again, then talked for a good while to Ang herself, which I hadn't been able to do in a few weeks. When Dave and Lindsay returned, they returned with no announcement or fan fare and set the wonderful tone of taking a load off and sitting about the house. We'd drift by each other on occasion and have a little chat about something or another on the way to the hammock in the back, or the chair on the front porch. It was a perfect way of subtly telling me I don't need to entertain with stories or anything, just relax and enjoy yourself here because that's what we're going to do.

Their daughter Schuyler was in town for the night as well having just graduated college. Being that it was Father's Day she and Dave had their father/daughter night by making dinner together on the barbecue. Lindsay and I settled into the front porch reading and visiting until dinner was near ready, when we migrated to the back to where the action was. It was a really nice night all around. The dinner turned out quite amazingly, and the vibe, as I've tried to emphasize, was very relaxed and down to earth. We retired to ice cream and television by the darker hours of the night. I made it an early night, retiring to my room by about 10pm.

Two of Sky's friends arrived to stay the night as well as I was heading to bed. They were all heading back to Columbus the next day, and Sky was gearing up for a European excursion in a few days. We had a brief chat of our travels, and I pointed out a few tips on the pack she was bringing so it would ride better on her. I wasn't lasting long though and soon found myself in bed.

6/20- The Home Of Loreli

Saturday morning brought about the shuffle of yet another move, though this one was to be separate from the others. Todd would be returning to Hillsdale again, but I'd be staying back this round exploring the pasts of other friends instead. I had finally contacted Loreli's gramma on the phone Friday afternoon and arranged a solid time to meet up which would be 11am that Saturday morning.

Todd and I spent a bit of that morning divying up the contents of a package he'd gotten from his friend Steve that we'd had breakfast with a few weeks earlier. I was now sporting a collapsible fishing pole with tackle, and had about 6 luxury camp meals in addition to the rest of the food we'd been hauling. I was a bit overloaded, but it was no matter to me, I'd be in new guest bedrooms for the next few days with no need to walk my pack anywhere.

This visit was a curious one for me. I know I've talked some about my friendship with Loreli in past posts, but I don't know that I've really described the unusual nature it has compared with just about everyone of my other friends. Its in my nature to really find out who someone is when I'm friends with someone. That sounds like a stupid statement, but I really like to hear about how someone grew up, where they're from, essentially what their background was like coming to the point of when they met me. Sometimes I like comparing ages of what they were doing while I was doing something else, other times I just like picturing their life on a whole, it helps me understand those who I get close to.

With Loreli, however, this wasn't the case. Perhaps because we met by strange version of dating when she was brand new to motherhood; which was quite brief. Mostly I played with little Izzy giving Loreli a chance to breathe, and when we talked it was mostly about our oddly unique ways in which we each conduct our lives. More succinctly put, I'd say that our conversations are almost always about either something we're embroiled with at the moment or something we're looking forward to, and neither of us really spent any time talking about our pasts. On top of that, most of our relationship has been not only just as friends, but as email buddies as I flitted around from here to there over the past five years.

What I did know, however, was that she had come from an incredibly rough background as a child and to be allowed a view into it first hand was, what I took to be, an extreme honor as a friend. Like a fool, though, I had begun approaching this with an extreme lack of sensitivity with my flake out on Thursday, and felt I had some making up to do, though I don't know that I did it or not. Either way, I did arrive promptly on her gramma's doorstep just after 11 as arranged. She welcomed me in warmly, gathered Cyndal and Steven (Loreli's youngest siblings) into the living room, and seemed to have not been bothered one bit that I was two days late despite my incessant apologies. We all talked over coffee for a little while before the house was to resume to its normal order for the day with the simple addition of a guest. Cyndal was off to run errands for the day and gramma had a guest of her own over while Steven was designated my tour guide for the day.

Steven struck me as a really good kid who was trying to figure out his spot in the world, but really just wanted to live in the woods off on his own. In fact, he reminded me quite a bit of myself that just came from a different background was struggling to get his traction. With plans to follow his older brother, Boon, into the military I was curious to follow his train of thought on it. I have often toyed with the notion of military life as well, falling into the categories of doing it for the adventuresome life and duty. While living in Hawaii it was a brief idea since its swarmed with every uniform out there. After September 11th, having been in Brooklyn for it as well as having just quit my profession as well with a great need for direction then I debated it. Every time, however, I couldn't reconcile the dismissal of control over my own life for the duty it was said to be fulfilling. The adventure end of it, well that I fulfilled on my own terms either by entering into the film world in NYC or walking across the country. I know I'll get flack for saying this, but the idea of determining what my duty was to anything; myself, my family, my country, or the world as a whole, seemed like something for me to spend serious thought on in my own council rather than turn it over to an outside entity.

Sorry about that little rant, but it was for these reasons I was curious to see where Steven's thinking was coming from. We spent the afternoon climbing the silo on their farm and running around in the patch of woods at the back of their fields. Most of the time was spent climbing various trees rather than talking, but from what I did glean off my conversations with him the more I saw us in the same position in the light of a soldiers life vs. a wanderer's life and am excited to see where soldiering takes him.

We also share a great love of history, particularly military history, and particular to that WWII and Roman era. I discovered this in depth once we got in the car and took a road trip with his friend Stacey to Detroit for a Tigers game. Stacey has a game that she calls "her version of 20 questions" which entails asking 20 questions about the person answering as a way of getting to know someone quickly. They are random and in depth at times or light fluff at others, but the game did its job well.

Steven treated me to the game and had nice afternoon watching the Tigers cream the Brewers. Before we left I promised gramma that I would hoot and holler loudly for the Tigers, as she's an avid fan, so I did my best. Toward the end of the game, when the outcome was clear, we took a stroll around the park and Steven took a crack at pitching and batting in the cages before we headed back home.

Back in the Toledo area we met up with Cyndal for dinner at a little Mexican place. This kicked off a night of hanging out first at Stacey's briefly for s'more's around a backyard fire, then migrated to the clubhouse Cyndal and friend put together in high school out of the old barn behind her gramma's house. Steven and Stacey retired around midnight or so and Cyndal and I stayed up till about 3am talking about how the lot of them grew up. It was the most insight I'd gotten into Loreli's past in three hours than I'd heard in five years of knowing her. Needless to say it was a really great night and just a great time getting to know this side of an old, close friend and her family.

6/19- The Back & Forth

These next days meld into a fog for nothing really happened. It seemed as soon as we arrived in Hillsdale we were likewise heading back to Delta. Waking at Bob's there wasn't much to be done. Honestly I don't recall what happened through out the afternoon that day, all I know is that at some point Bob drove us back out to that rec area with the softball fields, volley ball courts, and bowling alley/bar by early evening. We may have stayed at Bob's, we may have returned to Todd's mom's place. As I said its a bit of a fog. On the whole it doesn't really matter, I just remember being shuffled around with nothing really to do. I did, however, like returning to my tree by the volley ball courts to read my book.

I spent most of the daylit evening there reading my book and writing. In all the shuffle I'd become somewhat of a recluse. My focus was beginning to slip badly on what the hell it was I was doing as Todd ran about enjoying his old high schooling ways. This was steadily becoming an engrossing theme for me as I tried reminding myself that we had just spent a month revisiting all of my old friends back east. Its not that I don't enjoy the people, on the contrary I haven't met anyone I haven't found to be engaging out of all these folks, but I do have wandering feet and I'm not happy unless I feel like I'm heading somewhere. After two and a half weeks I was starting to feel our departure date was getting increasingly farther away rather than closer and there are more things I'm excited to explore beyond here.

We slept in a field that night and returned to his Mom's the next morning. Actually saying we slept in a field is a bit misleading. We ended up staying up the entire night in a field talking about just these things of what it is we're doing and neither of us could sleep because of it until about 5am. A little before 7am it began to rain, hence the return to mother's, and we napped out a bit more over there. I was up by the afternoon, however, and decided to head over to the library a few blocks away for some more time to myself. When I returned a few hours later I discovered Shelly was about 15 minutes away from returning us to Delta again.

All of this may seem very choppy and broken up, chaotic. I don't think it was as haphazard as I describe it now, but sinking into this reclusive mindset I did set myself continually on the fringes of decision making which lead to many of these abrupt shifts by my perspective. Frustration was setting in amid the confusion of what exactly it was we were still doing here bouncing from one area to the other, and all of it had to do with my procrastination with refocusing myself that I was pushing out on everything happening around me. A common ailment that's completely understandable and unforgivable.

We now were back at Shelly's. We settled right back in to our little nests there and had another excerisize in reclining. I spent most of my time with Shelly for the next few days primarily watching movies and completely de-braining. Todd tucked himself away to catch up on posts and doing much of the processing that I should have been doing but by then had worked my head up into a terrible tangle whose greatest tell tale symptom is laziness and procrastination. I didn't know it at the time but my thinking was falling to bits.

In this time I heard from my other Delta hosts. Loreli's folks, Dave and Lindsay, called me Thursday arranging for me to stay with them, though it was then I discovered that they were actually in Toledo and not Delta. Loreli's grandmother, however, is in Delta along with one of her brothers and sister, Steven and Cyndal. I talked to Loreli online Wednesday night and told her I'd likely spend Thursday with them, then Thursday came and I completely didn't follow through on that. Clues that my brain was lost. Friday I got a very disappointed email from her giving me the lecture I needed to snap myself back into reality again. It was time for me to stop playing tag along passenger and start asserting some responsibility to those who were expecting me. We rearranged for me to arrive Saturday morning, stay the night, then get a ride to Toledo and stay with Dave and Lindsay.

Friday the 19th was the last night we were there and Todd and I decided to go for a walk to hash some things out. It started out as a brief stroll to the corner and back, but ended up exploring the night life of Delta at the Village Tavern. A roiling thunderstorm broke out across the night as well while we were sipping beers in the little pub and clear thought seemed to reclaim me for the night. We had a good chat, not really about anything, but just a good reconnection. My brain seemed to work for a minute once again.

Click here for Todd's perspective.

6/15- A Tour Of Curtice

Morning came excruciatingly early Monday morning. Shelly's weekend off had come to a close and it was back to work at 7am for her. The plan of the moment for Todd was to return to Hillsdale that evening. I was thinking of staying in town to finally meet Loreli's folks then taking the week to myself to walk to Hillsdale on my own. I woke up with Shelly, however, to borrow the car and make another friend hometown stop.

My good friend Angela, from Dazbog in Denver, also grew up around Toledo on the other side of the city in a tiny little town called Curtice. I wasn't quite sure what I was going to do when I got there, but it was one of the things calling me to go see. Shelly was kind enough to lend me the car while at work so I rose with her at the crack of dawn and made my way over to find this place.

I'd had no word from Ang so far, since I have a phone only on Saturdays, and didn't send her an email about what I was thinking until Saturday night. I figured, however, her high school would be easy enough to find and I could wing it from there. I did well by my assumptions finding her high school easily enough, and looked up her Dad's house where she grew up in the phone book. Old school researching skills. It wasn't until I stopped at a payphone near her house that I downloaded a 2am email from her through Pocketmail complete with instructions on what to do. She'd given me a number to call to get in touch with Beth, a friend of hers, so I tried that, but to no avail. I then swung by her house to possibly see her Dad, but he was out working as well.

In the end I got the tour I had expected, just not the bonus stuff I was hoping for. For whatever reason, I've always really liked touring the memorable spots of my close friends even though they aren't my memories, or with me when I do. Couldn't tell you what that's about.

I returned home by about 3pm to Todd having another productively lazy afternoon writing. We made some coffee and packed up our things before heading over to grab Shelly a little after five.

Once again, last minute, I adapted my plans for the week. I hadn't heard from Loreli's folks, who I talked to on Saturday, and wasn't really expecting to until Tuesday. My vague original plan was to take a night to myself in the Delta woods and meander over that way if I heard from them the next day. As we were packing up, however, the plan seemed suddenly really retarded and presumptuous that even if I did hear from them Tuesday that they'd be willing and/or able to see me that day. Being that was my only dumb plan at the time I figured I'd return to Hillsdale to support Todd in his endeavors there since we were coming back to Delta next weekend anyway allowing time to arrange something rather than push it through. After all, I don't know these people one bit despite how chill Loreli described them to be to me.

Soon enough we were back at Todd's mothers apartment. Having stayed up until 2:30 the night before and woken up at 6:30 that morning I was knacked. I promptly passed out in the easy chair not long after arriving and woke up somewhere around 10pm to Todd itching to head over to Bobs.

It was at Bobs that we wrapped up our night with a backyard bonfire complete with more faces from Todd's past. Groggy and some what reclusive I spent my time sipping on a beer, staring into the fire, and chatting occasionally with who ever started talking to me. The two who stood out most to me was Stacey, an old high school friend of theirs who Bob helped me in convincing her she and I had been old high school buddies too, and Justin, who I more listened to then talked with but had fucking hilarious stories of debauchery.

Stacey, in the end, bought our story and began recalling the good times we'd had together with my prompts of "remember, we used to get drunk in the field and cut class together". In her defense, she also was so drunk that she would ask if we all were inside or outside, and often was in danger of falling in the fire.

Throughout the night Todd kept smiling and leaning over to me saying "this is classic Hillsdale. I love it." I was a bit surprised at his surprise at me saying it was classic for Longmeadow days in high school as well except Stacey's name was different. Perhaps that was why I took to Stacey so quickly. She seemed like good people, which was backed up by stories of her unflinchingly opening her house to Bob when he was back in a time of need.

By 2am I was done with the night, as were most of the others as the gathering thinned. Bob and Todd had already retreated to the house for the night so I turned in as well.

6/14- Teaching Shelly The Art Of Doing Nothing

Little hints of drips pattering through the mesh of my bivy lulled me out of a dead sleep. My head swam with the heaviness sleep brings to the brain which seems to accompany really good dreams that are hard to wake from. Nevertheless, once the realization hits that its morning and you're about to get rained on, deciding to get up and pack up while everything is still dry becomes much easier. Get up and pack we did, and no sooner did I get everything packed away that the sky began unpacking its water load. Along with this increase in volume Bob invoked his powers of good fortune for us and turned into our dirt patch arriving in the nick of time to spare us a watery fate. I don't know how he timed that so well, but I also stand by that things tend to work out quite well for us when there's no lesson to be learned by it not working out well. We were once again returned to our gas station for more coffee.

Bob dumped us there before moving on with his day. We grabbed our coffees and crossed the street to return to Todd's mom. She welcomed us home not only with open arms but pancakes and bacon too.

Our stay wasn't too long with her, however, as Shelly came by to pick us up for a return to Ohio for the weekend. Shelly had also grown up knowing Todd's mom, though she hadn't seen her since she was a little girl. Todd and I decided to go grab some more coffee before leaving so they could visit on their own for a bit. Once we returned, though, we had a few parking lot group pictures then we three left for another memory lane tour.

This time, with Shelly, we hit new landmarks I hadn't seen yet, nor Todd, like the house she grew up in and grandparents homes. As well as those we had toured last week, but with renewed vigor to places like Mosherville where we wondered the village. The afternoon was grey and rainy off and on, but that was perfect weather for me to roll around the countryside in and hear their stories of family history in physical form.

Early evening brought us to Shelly's mom's house where Todd's last unmet sister, Lynn's, children were staying. Obviously since Todd has never met Lynn this was his first meeting with his nephews, Ben and Brad. At 16 and 14 they were noticeably well behaved. As Todd noted later, they stood up to us coming into the room to greet us, unprompted by adults even. We hung out for a bit there then picked up a subway dinner on our way into Indiana to meet another of Todd's nephews, Travis, as well as an ex-step niece, Kirsten, who really should simply be described as a niece but I like complicated formalities. These latter two are through Shelly, and are much older being in their 20s.

It was an interesting evening joining them all for this unofficial reunion. Its not every day you witness someone meeting their full family. It seems to be every other day for me this month, but not every day. When we were leaving they did their family picture thing and surprised me by inviting me to stand amid this new arrangement of cousins.

It was a late night driving home that night, but the introductions had gone quite well. After all the driving and meeting we were all ready to sack out once we got back to Shelly's. As it would turn out that laziness would persist.

Shelly had taken that weekend, and the next, off back when we were in Mass in anticipation of meeting Todd then. Its a strong reminder of how quickly we got here by Stacey's willingness to road trip to see what all we've done between arriving on the 1st and now. Shelly, however, normally works seven days a week and all three of us were in dire need of some serious down time for our own reasons. For that reason none of us had any qualms about doing anything but watch TV, lay out in the sun, and go for occasional strolls over the next three days. I think the one we all did it for the most was Shelly just to show her how beneficial relaxation is.

Friday morning Ben, Brad, and their grandmother showed up for an hour to see the cats. After that it was nothing but eating, sleeping, and chatting until Monday... and nothing could have been better.

Click here for Todd's perspective.

6/10- A Practice in Revelation

The morning came early with the rush of two girls rushing to school, Bonnie making for work, and Dave trying to keep a schedule. It was an active early morning house, as we'd been warned. Dave was heading through Hillsdale that day so he dropped us off out our favorite little gas station across the street from Todd's mom's place to wait for Bob.

The day had come when we were finally going to face our complete incompetence head on and learn to fish. Bob had the day off so he agreed to take us out to show us the ropes. Waiting outside the gas station sipping our coffee we chatted up several more people before he arrived fifteen minutes after we got there. Soon enough we were heading out to find a suitable spot.

On our way we stopped into Litchfield to pick up some night crawlers at a store one of their high school friends owned. There was a display of handguns laid out in there which Todd took great notice of, but we managed to escape without purchase. We also managed to pick up some tips on where to go to avoid the new DNR guy so we wouldn't get busted for our unlicensed fishing endeavor. This avoidance was handy as well since we fished for an hour or so in a creek we could see the bottom of and never caught, nor saw, a fish that day.

Once we decided we'd gotten the hang of baiting hooks, casting lines, and sitting on bridges bullshitting we returned to Litchfield for a lunch at Kacy's. I actually really did enjoy that "just sitting there" style of fishing and I'm thinking it could prove quite useful further west as we head to thinner populated areas. Lunch was nice too, however, with warm food and bottomless coffee.

Bob dropped us off back at the softball field after lunch where Todd and I reclaimed my tree of the day before. We marinated ourselves in the shade for the rest of the afternoon with rest and relaxation. He napped while I wrote a little and started in on my new book, Starship Troopers. Once again, on cue, the softballers came marching back and Todd soon woke and wandered over to hang out with them. I was completely content writing at that point so I stayed under my tree until I was soon overwhelmed by the horde of frolicking youngsters encroaching steadily on my train of thought. One 8 year old in particular chose me to hide behind from his friends and it was overbearingly adorable when he whispered to me from his crouched position "nice hat". I soon joined Todd in women's softball watching.

Eddie had been umping that game, so when it ended had a beer with him after. I was hoping many of the cute players would be retiring to the bar as well. It was really great, however, talking to Eddie in that empty bar regardless. In fact, we ended up having a surprising conversation about spirituality that was incredibly insightful.

Soon Eddie had to head home which was when we ended up turning to the bartenders for chatter. Once again we found ourselves wrapped up in a full blown, engaging political discussion with the old dogs that had been getting Todd lit back in his 20's long, long, long ago. Before he hit 29 of course.

This, and much of the rest of all these happenings over the past week and a half, hit Todd squarely in the chest for our walk back to the gravel pit a mile away that night. In all my recent events both back in Mass and processing it to myself here in Michigan I was having my own revelations that night as well. For that mile back, and as we laid in for the night in the backyard of his decaying boyhood home in our bivys, a lot of new thought processes started coming together as we swapped insights.

For me, the main realization, that I'd been writing about under that tree, was that I think I may have finally found an answer to these dual lives I have. The answer had actually been handed to me by that psychic lady in Jersey of needing to blend my need for community and travel, not chose. When she told me that it seemed right, I just had no idea how, and now I think its hit me.

I'm going to butcher this, but I'll give it a shot regardless. I realized that as much as I enjoyed meeting all these folks I was getting burned out on all the people. I was getting burned out on being a guest continuously regardless of how welcome I was, and I was aching to sequester myself away in my bivy again, in my woods which now felt like home. However, I also was getting annoyed with the acknowledgment that we had unconsciously bound ourselves to both a traveling track, and us moving to where ever the other is moving to. Todd was looking at staying longer and longer in Hillsdale, and I was thinking more and more on going on without him. Splitting up the Fellowship as it were which left me with a feeling of being a deserter. Talking that out with him, though, it eased that feeling away into foolishness. After all, the main idea was that we were after free movement and following our instincts. It was restlessness pushing me onward regardless of his decisions, but that restlessness was born out of me needing to move forward after three weeks there. It definitely did not seem right for me to be there in July.

This notion of getting out of our travel track mode also lead me into thinking of my usual reasons for settling down again. I settle down because I miss my friends while off being "the intrepid adventurer". I set off and travel soon after because I get tired of going to work everyday accomplishing nothing but paying my bills each month in a timely fashion. I go to work to pay the rent, and I pay rent to have a house to "be stable" in. This was my train of thinking, but what I realized was I don't need to pay rent to be stable. I don't even need to choose a city to live in.

My dilemma is that I have too many friends strewn about the country, and even a few abroad that I care deeply for and would love to see regularly. Having a day to day job prevents that because with time off comes less pay and less pay means not making rent. If rent is lessened to $54 for a storage unit and I live around town in a bivy, then I can live where ever I want and move to where I want to be when ever I want. Day work would easily cover expenses then, and hopefully I could sell photographs out of galleries in various towns as well.

With this notion I realized I could be in the various towns my friends are in with a fair amount of regularity. After all, many of my customers in shops over the years have been living in two or more cities and I saw them as definitely as regulars and part of the community. So there you go, that has been my latest big idea that I'm all giddy on trying out.

We spent the night laying out talking this idea over. It agreed with us both, the next question is to see if our heads get it.

6/9- To Myself

Monday was a curious morning. Todd had more plans to go off and visit friends and I was hitting a strange burn out on people. I think after a month of revisiting all of my old friends and family, bouncing couch to couch between them with another month of the same on Todd's end I just wanted a day to myself and do some walking. The end of day plan was for Todd to crash a softball game out on the far end of Jonesville so I decided I'd spend my day walking there.

After breakfast with his Mom I set off on my way not long past 10am. It was only a nine mile hike which would take all of three hours so I meandered over to the Hillsdale library first. There I updated for the weekend, checked email, and did some mapping for a while. By noon I hit up the Post Office on my way out of town and set myself to a stroll.

It was indeed nice to get back out again on my own. Walking is, in some ways, my meditation because the legs move on their own and my brain is allowed to wander. Its one of the things I like so much about this sort of travel and lifestyle, and something I haven't been doing too much of since south Jersey.

I went three miles before taking an hour long coffee break at a gas station, then did the next six in one stretch to the field. I arrived two hours before the game was to start, which was two hours before anyone would show up in the lot. Finding a nice spot under a tree I shed my shoes and sprawled out to finish up the wolf book Lica had given me. It would turn out to be a thank you book to Bob due to his affinity for wolves.

Everyone arrived on cue for the game and I was soon immersed in a crowd once more. Bob had managed to get the nod from the team to let Todd play that day, since it was a league game, and I pulled up a spot on the bleachers to watch. It was a nice way to tip toe myself back into company for the evening.

After they lost we all gathered round and another reunion was born. They were all a fun bunch harassing each other to make up for years missed of practical jokes. Amid this sports complex was a bowling alley with a bar which we soon found ourselves in. I had a good time sitting back and listening as the stories flew of old times and plans to make sure certain people got together made their rounds.

By nightfall we'd been invited back to another friend's house, Dave and Bonnie. Dave gave us a ride back to their farm afterward. As we pulled into the drive I was heavily reminded, for whatever reason, of the family Ingrid and I stayed with down in Georgia. It seemed to me it wouldn't have mattered if they knew Todd or what. They just seemed like really cool, good, decent folks who would have put up two backpackers for the night had they known them or not.

The rest of that night was spent with more digging into the past, excavating some things that Todd had been shady from. Again I was in more of an observers mood, so I don't think I made for very good company. In my defense, though, they all seemed to have plenty to catch up on so perhaps it all just worked out as it should have.

6/8- Todd's Return to Hillsdale

Sean was a cool kat. I liked the guy right away when he took us on a little tour of the radio place. He just seemed full of energy and I could tell he had a lot to say.

We piled our packs in the car and soon enough were off heading back to the town of Todd's youth. The two of them were in the front as we sped down the highway and they quickly embroiled themselves in stories of old radio days which mutated into politics... of course. Sean had been in the first Gulf War back in '91 and was an avid self proclaimed liberal, more so due to his war experiences than not it seemed. The ride, however, was only an hour so the visit was short. Before long we were weaving around the streets of Hillsdale trying to find a green van marking Todd's friend Bobby's house which was not, in fact, in front of his house.

Finally navigating the problem Bobby walked us in until we could see him strutting up his lawn on the phone talking to us. A few pictures with us and Sean, then us and Bobby, and Sean was gone again. There was talk of getting together at some point again with him which I think would be a good time.


Bobby was another interesting guy of a different breed than Sean. He was an old time softball buddy of Todd's from his high school days and beyond. I was now about to witness my Springfield reunions from an outside perspective through Todd as he re-met his old chums. Hanging out with Bob was back to good old fashioned fun. They ragged on each other, pulled pranks on one another, but also dove into the serious friendship catching up business as well.

We spent the afternoon unwinding at his house for a bit then went out to hunt down others of their crew around town to the point that bordered on stalking. In the end, we gave up and fled to an old drinking hole, the bowling alley. For a Saturday night it was pretty dead, so in lieu of this old haunt we opted for where people actually gather which was in a bar a few towns away.

This place was packed, so much so there was a $3 cover for the band on the way in. We had no luck in running into people they knew, other than a co-worker of Bob's, but we did nearly close the place out and have a good time chatting, drinking, and tapping the top of Todd's beer bottle to make it foam everywhere. On our way home again later that night we grabbed a ton of junk food at a gas station and stopped in at "The Gravel Pit" in contemplation of sleeping there.


The Gravel Pit is a little oasis on Todd's mother's land where he grew up in the center of the fields out there. We could only see by the headlights of the car, but I'm at a loss for why they called it a gravel pit being that I saw nothing but tall grass and trees around a giant puddle. Perhaps another time in daylight will explain a thing or two. Thankfully we opted against sleeping out there and returned home to nice beds to pass out on.

In the morning Todd's friend, Steve, another high school buddy, drove down from Detroit to have breakfast with us. This was another guy we had too short a time with. He was steeped with insights and thoughts on our trip, and was actually the one who had showed us the way to a few key books we reference often and the stoves we've been surviving on. As it turned out in that night out before, Bobby was on the same wave length as us in the way of our metaphysical interests and preparations as was Steve. As I said though, breakfast came and went too quickly and I was hoping that Steve was to be another revisit later on in the trip.


After breakfast we did nothing for the rest of the day. Mainly we just laid about the house gobbling up the junk food we'd bought the night before and watching TV. Several hours of that went by before I suggested to Todd we go for a walk to shake the lethargic feeling of a beer hang over, but more the junk food affects. It was just a little stroll around sunset for about an hour, but it livened us up again pretty good. All that grease and beer was not doing me good and walking a bit, talking, and taking some pictures really made a difference.

When we got back we returned to being lazy again, but the sun had set and none of us had any desire to do anything, so it felt good. Bob had to head into work the next day early so he retired for the night, Todd drifted back to the computer, and I watched TV. In the morning we gathered up the laundry we'd done there, some of the fishing tackle Bob had given us to experiment with, and by afternoon we were out the door to Todd's mother's house.

Todd's mom had called while we were at Bob's which was part of the motivation to go at the time. She lived just around the corner, but when we got there no one was answering the phone or the buzzer so we were left to stand in front of the building. Across the street was a gas station and coffee can never go wrong with us. In addition to that, an old fashioned sitting in front of a gas station was something I think both us needed at the time. We were quite surprised by what we found there.

Having grown up in this little town, Todd had expected to find no reaction if not negative ones toward a couple backpackers sitting by the door sipping coffee. Instead we discovered the friendliest town we've gone through yet, even more so than Denton. People frequently were coming and going out of there asking what we were up to, where we'd come from, and one guy even gave us $10 on his way out after telling us about some friends of his biking the country right now. Thanks again.

Eventually we decided to move back across the street and try his mom again to no success. We sat ourselves down on the lawn in front and started pulling out things to occupy our time. Becky, however, had a hankering for curiosity that she needed to satisfy so she drifted over to inquire. She was hanging with the gaggle of folks milling about in front of the building. It seemed to me like the sort of gathering you find among high school kids at gas stations or parking lots, but this was a gang of seniors in walkers and wheelchairs. Becky was of the wheelchaired lot, though I'm not sure she was quite a senior yet.

Either way, she was aching to know what two backpackers were doing hanging around there and she had to ask. A few seconds into giving her our story she called over her friend, Darlene, and the two of them bantered away with us. Once they knew a bit about the situation with Todd's mom Darlene went upstairs and knocked on her door for us. Still nothing.

This went on for a bit until we were right about to start working on what else we should do when his mom popped out on her balcony seven stories up and hollered to us. Salvation, and up we went. The rest of the night we spent there in her apartment going over photos of Todd as a rambuncious teen, wandering toddler, and weird ass posing baby. A thunder storm brewed outside, and after a little bit of Todd wanting to get out in it, we ended up just staying the night watching the storm and taking pictures into the sunset from her balcony. It was a quiet night all told.

Click here for Todd's perspective.

6/6- Kalamazoo With Brian and Joey

The Kalamazoo stay was to be one of relaxation and catching up. Over the next two whole days, and even a bit of Saturday, our last one with them, we were furiously catching up on posts, pictures, and a lot of their ever flowing coffee. They are both very busy bees and our times to visit were mainly in the evenings over TV and the periodic pop ins for an hour or so through out the day from Brian as he went from one appointment to the next.

We, however, still get some of those good conversations in that I'd been anticipating through Todd. Brian is in the midst of studying to be a psychologist, and Joey is a computer nut. Psychologists have always been a bit of a nemesis trade for me, though recently I've grown to accept the possibility that they can be helpful. Many in my family, and a large chunk of my good friends, all put this claim in, and results I've seen have been what's curved my thought. In my own experiences with the little beasts I've gained nothing but regression, though I realize that is my isolated experience and not the case on a whole. Never the less it made for some fun talks with Brian.

Through out many of the more in depth conversations that we'd have about the nature of our travels, the "metaphysical" end of us trying to tune in our intuitions, and the nature of what we're all doing over all found us in what I believe was a linguistic bind. It seemed to me that we were agreeing with one another, but were caught up in the rhetoric we used to describe it. Brian would describe these occasions of drawing in these great experiences with people we've been having as an attraction of "mirroring". This was an analogy I really took to in that sense that everyone reflects those around them, and in turn see themselves reflected in the populace of their surroundings as well. To me, however, this was much of what we were saying, just in our weirdly muddled ways of trying to articulate it, and it took a while for any of us to see that.

Often times Brian would lean on his studies in this way to more succinctly say many of the things we have been struggling to articulate. For me, this would jar me a bit feeling as if it may just be regurgitation of text rather than grasping where we were coming from. Over all, though, it was clear that he was getting it but simply speaking through his particular filter. It was much akin to when I've talked these ideas out with people connecting through religious filters, the science end I was much less used to encountering and interpreting. In the end, as I've said, we found ourselves to be in understanding of one another, we just needed occasional translation.

These sorts of conversations are something I get really enthusiastic about. This translation idea of one's ideas into the language of another so that a true understanding can be had, rather than an agreement to disagree under misunderstood terms. As I've said, I tend to find it often in religious beliefs, and am noticing it more often on the scientific end as well. The overall idea that I'm excited about is that these ancient foes seem to share these same ideas that I believe if you can make it through that language barrier. For religion it seems to be the task of striping the cultural baggage off the core beliefs, for science it seems to be reminding them to add daily life to the equation.

By Saturday Todd had reached a friend of his, Sean, who worked at a radio station that was literally 100 yards away from Brian and Joey's house. He had to work that day and agreed to give us a ride back to Hillsdale where we'd be spending the next week. Soon enough we were packing up once again, getting pictures of us four together on Brian and Joey's back deck, then back on the move again.

Click here for Todd's perspective.

6/2- A Stay With Shelly

I was extremely conscious of the idea that Todd and Shelly were meeting for the first time, and I wasn't quite sure what I should do with myself, if anything, for that. As we hauled our packs into the house, saying our hellos and thanks-for-having-us, she went about inviting us to use her washing machine and take showers. That was a good enough cue for me to get out of their hair and let them sit on their own to get acquainted. I opted for the first shower and took my sweet time in there, which was nice by its own right after a week in the woods and a day in a car.

Once I emerged from a steamy cleansing I found them chatting away on the back patio. Todd left a little after I joined them for his shower and Shelly and I began our bonding through our joint interests in genealogy. She has apparently been quite diligent in her studies taking their family all the way back to the original French progenitor who landed in Canada back in the 1630s. Once Todd returned refreshed and clean we were well into the throes of comparing histories, findings, and research explorations.

Shelly has an early morning work schedule, so we were wary of keeping her up too late. Never-the-less we three stayed up talking until a little after morning about their family history, our travels, and I even cooked her up a sampling of one of the rice concoctions after a trip to the store to resupply ourselves. At that trip to the store we also mulled over fishing poles and hunting equipment for our sojourn into the west soon to come. After much discussion, we forewent the fishing gear and picked up a six dollar wrist rocket that might be helpful to try eating the smaller breeds of hunting fare.

As the sun rose Monday morning, so did we. Shelly had said we could borrow her car to get up to Ann Arbor in Michigan so we could sort out all of our REI business we needed to do. We drove her in by 7am and hit up a little greasy spoon diner on the way back to her house. It was a tasty little place called The Barn Restaurant with an amazingly priced breakfast special of an omelet, hash browns, toast, and bottomless coffee for $3.25. That roused us for the morning, and it was there that I decided I was finally just going to cut sugar out of my coffee once and for all.

This sugar decision has been coming for about 17 years now. When I first started drinking coffee I was 16, mostly because the mechanic shops I frequented often due to my $300 car carried free coffee but not free tea. I have a horrible sweet tooth, so a cup of coffee for me held 16 spoonfuls of sugar. That is not an exagerated fact. Over time I've whiddled down under the prodding concerned regulars at various coffee shops I've worked at who thought I'd soon be developing diabetes in myself. The coffees I was having with Todd and Stacey on the drive over had cut that 16 spoonfuls by 75%, down to 4. Anyway, it did me great joy to find I could drink three cups of the stuff with no cream and no sugar at long last, to the great benefit to my health and traveling needs.

After breakfast we got our stuff together and drove up to Ann Arbor about an hour away. It would prove to be a bit of a nostalgia tour for Todd for the day. As we passed through this little town or that one he'd spout out relating stories to his past as I had done back in Mass and NYC. We also got a nice crossing the Michigan border pic illustrating Todd's feeling for the area.

In Ann Arbor I had the great pleasure of experiencing the worst customer service help I've ever had at an REI. It was here I discovered they don't carry the Aurora bivy east of the Mississippi, and this was told to me with a subtle "fuck off" in the shrug of apathy. Any other question I asked was received similarly, and as I mentioned it offhandedly to Todd on my way out he claimed it was actually due to Michigan and not isolated to just that store. This was not to be held up to me as the day would have it.

Unsatisfied with our lack of success we called around to find some other camp stores in the area. Ann Arbor is a good sized college town with a "green" ecology vibe to it, so we figured there'd be something good. We were proven to be correct when we were pointed to a place called Bivouac centered in downtown across from the college. I dropped Todd off in front of it while I sought out a parking spot for the car.

I made my way up to the bivies and backpacks section upstairs figuring I'd easily find Todd there. He was a minute behind me, as he'd been detoured downstairs to the sale section stumbling across the same make and model of his pack last year for 40% off. That had given me just enough time to ask the woman there about their bivies with a brief explanation of what we were up to. This made us fast friends.

Pam is a managerial someone at the store, but more accurately an avid explorer herself who seems to travel mostly by motor bike and bivys. Through her admission and most of her stories she announced herself as one of the old school of thinking in that you take care of those you travel with and stick together as a group. I forget how that conversation came up, but it seemed to extend to the wandering rovers of the world. She had a great gruff exterior, and claimed to be hated by most, but to me she seemed like one of those people I love to work for who doesn't want any crap and just wants the job done right. If that's done then she'll take great care of you in return. We spent probably half an hour to forty five minutes just going over gear and travel stories at length, and she seemed quite stoked about us keeping a travel log such as this one. Its always good to find another no bullshit person in the world.

By the time we were done with everything we'd come to do REI unspokenly vanished from our heads as a viable place to do business in anymore, and Bivouacs became our new preferred place. They didn't have the Aurora for me either, but Todd was able to pick up an Alpine like mine for about $20 less then what I got it for on sale at REI, and we were starting to become a bit too reliant on that return policy. We gave Pam a card and were off.

We took the long way home through the town of Jackson where Todd had contacted his friend Todd from his high school days. The two Todd's remet at a little coffee shop downtown and caught up with each other that lead into a possible fishing/camping trip the following week. Jackson Todd and I ended up finding a connection as well, as he was a vending cart enthusiast as I am, so I told him the tale of the Ice Cream Truck Debacle of '01.

Still meandering back toward Delta we veared further off to the west for the main orientation tour for me. Hillsdale, Michigan, Todd's home town of his youth. It began with a tour of Mosherville which consists of three north/south streets and three east/west streets, we drove all of them while Todd pointed out historic spots. Then over to Jonesville and the land he grew up on and the ruins of his childhood home. We toured this one a bit as I had toured mine in Longmeadow, but the sentiment was quite different. Where mine had been improved on and rebuilt, his was quickly approvable to be condemned at a glance. The roof had collapsed, we were a bit frightened of crossing the floors at the same time, and the porch had fallen over. Nature had reclaimed the entirity of the land to the point where Todd had a little trouble recognizing somethings. I was intrigued by the whole collapse, but tried to be sensitive to the notion that this was probably quite depressing for Todd to see his childhood under trash and watermarks.

From there we drove through Hillsdale proper but were in high gear now to make it back to Shelly on time. She'd be finished with work at 5pm and we'd make it there just on time. Swooping her up we returned home for a dinner of cheese burgers and chips. We ate again on the back patio, then retired into the house after dark to play with the cats around the couch. She had recently found a little kitten, Timber, who was at that clumsy energetic stage of attacking anything that moved which kept us entertained most of the time. The other two, Shadow and Baz were a bit more refined than that; Shadow sticking to just that, the shadows, and Baz over seeing regally that the antics of Timber didn't get out of hand. Shelly retired a little earlier that night and we stayed up to watch Conan's first night on the Late Show.

Tuesday was a condensed version of Monday. We woke with Shelly and returned her to work, had breakfast at the little diner, then made our way back to Ann Arbor and Bivouacs. Todd picked up his backpack there, having waited to hear about a replacement belt that Pam got back to him impressively fast on. She had also signed our guestbook Monday night so we thanked her for that and found out she might be out west when we are so we told her to definitely look us up.

Following Ann Arbor we made our way home much quicker this time. There was no draw to explore spots of nostalgia that day, and, since we were heading out that night, both felt a need to get our things in order for departure. Todd had contacted his friends Brian and Joey in Kalamazoo who were going to pick us up in Coldwater that evening. I got my stuff in order then watched Red Dawn for the afternoon while Todd worked on sorting out his. By 5 we were picking Shelly back up again and heading into Michigan again directly.

We were a little ahead of schedule so Shelly swung us through the town of Quincy, where she had grown up. Stopping in at her mother's house on a lake, we spent half an hour reclining on her back deck and looking over the lake before getting back in the car again. It was nice getting one more piece of the family puzzle fitted, especially since we caught her mom returning home just as we were leaving. She joined us for the jaunt into Coldwater a few minutes away and the four of us ended up sitting for dinner together at Big Boys in town.

Brian and Joey were heading down from Kalamazoo and had talked of dinner as well but were an hour away. Todd and I had coffee while visiting with Shelly and her mom until Brian and Joey joined us there for about fifteen minutes. Shelly's mom treated us to the coffee and soon we had swapped cars with our packs and were on our way to our next visit in Kalamazoo.

Click here for Todd's perspective.