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I’ve been home a few days now. The posts have been late because wifi isn’t set up yet. I am currently at the car wash, getting a professional interior detail. It was crucial. 

It’s been a little overwhelming trying to settle in and unpack, but our new home is wonderful. It’s a three minute walk to the T and a one minute walk to the beach. I mean, it’s still a Boston Harbor beach, no waves or anything. Our view isn’t like that of the Cape or the city from Cambridge over the Charles you see on postcards. Nope, our view contains the traffic-jammed I-93 and the National Grid gas tank, but it’s perfect. It’s real Boston. And that gas tank has painted on it the world’s largest copyrighted work of art, didntchya know!

Boston is a beautifully imperfect city...Or an imperfectly beautiful city, I’m not sure. It’s flawed, no doubt. Its roads were built on old cow paths (which is apparently a myth upon further research, but it sure is believable) and modern day driving is at times absurd. It is the third most expensive city in the country to live in. We have arctic winters and tropical summers. We may not appear to be the friendliest, but we are a loyal bunch. And we’re proud. These flaws make the city what it is and without them it wouldn’t be Boston, it wouldn’t be the best.

Needless to say, I am biased, but I just saw how many cities and I think Boston trumps them all. The others may have perks we do not, but all-in-all, I pronounce Boston the winner. I thought about ethnocentrism a lot on my trip. If I’m being very honest, I’d have to say I am a culprit of the occasional, or not so occasional, ethnocentric thought. It’s not that I truly think “The way you live is terrible. The way I live is better than the way you live.” I’m not an idiot. What I am guilty of is driving through a town and thinking "What kind of person lives in a place like this? What kind of people choose this? Don’t they know Massachusetts is only 2500 miles east? Why not go there?" Then I’d see a sign for a school bus stop and something would click. People live here. Real people with real lives, with kids they have to get to school in the morning. I am not ignorant, nor am I very naive, but kind of embarrassingly, simple-minded thoughts like this occurred over and over again. 

I want to repeat that I do not believe my culture is superior to anyone else’s, it’s just hard to imagine being from somewhere else than where you are from. Does everyone have this difficulty? Even imagining living somewhere different is a little tough, but I’m talking about a Boston to Denver transition. What about the people who immigrate here from a poor, primitive village? Or someone who grows up on Nebraska farm land and takes a job in bustling Tokyo? Takes a brave soul, it does. 

It was fascinating to see new and different places. I saw several cities I could see myself living in for a little while. Maybe Denver, southern California, Portland? Butttt maybe I don’t have to move far away after graduation. But that’s months away. By that time, I may have the itch again. For now, I feel like I got it out of my system. I’m refreshed and renewed, especially in the new house. I can stay put for a while. Right now I’ll be glad to not leave the state for six to twelve months. I’m quite content to not even leave the house for that matter.

I want to keep this blog. I don’t expect anyone to read it as I know anyone that checks in on it now is someone I know, interested in my trip. But writing is an outlet for me, and it’s very different for me writing privately and writing for people I know will read it. I journal often, but it is a mess. The thoughts are all over the place, I use shorthand, and my penmanship is atrocious, not to mention I write about things no one else would want to read about, nor would I want them to. Writing for the public eye, no matter the number of people, is a way to use my brain. I’ve heard it’s good for your brain to do some work once in a while. Keeps it runnin’.

I want to thank everyone for keeping up with me, for reading, for the texts and calls, for the gifts before I left. I only know I could live far away because I have such great people that I wouldn’t lose touch with. I’m very lucky. 

Love from Henley & I  <3

Day 25: NY >> MA

It was about a five and a half hour drive from the rest stop to Boston, but added in were several stops for coffee, human pee breaks, dog pee breaks, snacks, anything to stay awake. I arrived at home by two. The house was empty, ready to be moved out of. Every little noise echoed with a sadness. We loved this place so much, but there was another chapter ahead for us. Especially for Holly, who had worked so hard for so long to be able to buy her first home at the age of twenty six, in Boston no less.  

I may not have read the plaque on each monument or place of interest. I didn’t read up on the history of the place I was in, nor did I learn the geology behind the mountains, canyons, and rivers I admired. I saw a lot of mountains, canyons, and rivers though. I’m going to count that as something. I read the traffic signs in each state and noticed if they were yelling at you or if they were more suggestive and polite. I heard drivers, whether they were calm and pleasant or rushed and angry behind the wheel. I saw the several different ways to make bales of hay, the different sizes and shapes, and ways to stack them. I listened to the local radio, which was more often than not country music. It comes in everywhere. I mean everywhere. I listened to farm market radio when they rattled off data stating if the corn and soy beans and cattle were up or down. I ate from local joints and eavesdropped on conversations. I can read a book anytime, but there’s some things you just have to submerse yourself in. 

I’ve been so appreciative of so many things the past month: no car trouble, no problems with the cargo box, and no speeding tickets in over nine thousand miles. I’m thankful for national forests, safe rest areas, a gorgeous country, when gas prices are below three dollars, when coffee is below three dollars, credit cards, eighty mile per hour speed limits, and dog-friendly places. I’m thankful for friends and family who checked in on me. And I’m thankful for Henley every single day (Thanks George & Melissa).  :)

I drove 9,465 miles through twenty three states in twenty five days. 

<3

Exhausted but super excited  :p

Day 24: IL >> OH >> PA >> NY

For the next day, I had made a reservation for the architecture tour that takes a dog-friendly speedboat around Lake Michigan and down the Chicago River through the city. I wanted to drive into the city to park closer than the Airbnb so we could jump on the road when we were done. First mistake. I couldn’t find a metered spot on the street so ended up parking in a lot that would cost a fortune. We walked to find Wildberry Pancakes & Cafe and could not. Looking at the map, it was right there, so close, but the sidewalk ended to a wall of bushes, we couldn’t walk any farther that way. We took this long route into the park to get to it from another angle, but that part of the park was closed for construction. I was over it. Walking towards Navy Pier where the boat is, I noticed a few parking spots on the street. We had some time so I figured I’d get my car out of that lot, plus be a lot closer to the pier. Just more mistakes. We ran to the car, still had to pay twenty four dollars, drove to where I saw the spots, which were no longer there, or perhaps never existed at all, and drove around in circles until it got so late I had to park in another lot. We had to run all the way to the pier and it ended up costing an additional forty dollars. Sigh.

The tour was good, though! I got more battle wounds from trying to keep Henley in the boat. The Coast Guard is pretty intense there and fine big bucks for littering, even if your hat blows into the Michigan, so I can’t imagine what a Lab would cost me. 

I really wanted to drive straight to Boston at this point, but I only made it as far as Buffalo. We spent the night in what may be our last rest stop ever, but probably not.  :)

Chicago, as seen from Lake Michigan

Day 23: MN >> WI >> IL

I wish I had read Travels with Charley before I left. It is chock full of wise words. I have to share this:

“Joe and I flew home to America in the same plane, and on the way he told me about Prague, and his Prague had no relation to the city I had seen and heard. It wasn’t the same place, and yet each of us was honest, neither one a liar, both pretty good observers by any standard, and we brought home two cities, two truths. For this reason I cannot commend this account as an America that you will find. So much there is to see, but our morning eyes describe a different world than do our afternoon eyes, and surely our wearied evening eyes can report only a weary evening world.”

I cannot commend this account as an America that you will find.

Chicago was seen through my weary eyes. I was sick of places. I just wanted to be home. Chicago is too big a city for the end of a long road trip. It deserves the first stop on a road trip. It deserves time, effort, and enthusiasm. All of which were dwindling or nonexistent by this point. It was in the mid nineties, the traffic was bad, the parking worse, and the honking all made it feel like home, though. But I was tired. 

After the usually-long drive and getting settled in the Airbnb in West Town, we walked the couple miles to downtown. We went to Millennium Park where the big bean, or Cloudgate, is. Kids and Henley played in a cool fountain. We were taking selfies in the bean like you’re supposed to do when we got kicked out. No dogs allowed. In the entire park. And other parks. 

We had to find cold drinks and wifi because at this point the internet on my phone wasn’t working at all so I had no maps or Yelp or anything. I asked a stranger with a dog if there were patios around Henley was welcome on. Apparently there’s not much, but he did know one place for sure, Howells and Hood, so we went there. On the way, though, walking along the Chicago River, we passed a tiki bar serving out of a storage container so we had to stop there. I love these storage container things. I don’t even need to leave Henley tied outside. We can walk right up to the counter to order because you’re still outside. He got some ice cubes and I got a Leinenkugel’s Summer Shandy. Went down real fast. We continued on to the restaurant on the corner of the river and Michigan Ave. I got Krankshaft Kolsch, a Chicago-brewed beer, and the cheese board. Yes, the appetizer meant to split between several people. Great choices. 

We mosied around Magnificent Mile (the shopping strip of Michigan Ave), River North, and New East Side. I’m not entirely sure where we were, but around those areas, which isn’t covering much. We watched the weekly fireworks for a little while then walked back to the Airbnb where the air conditioning felt glorious. 

I wish I was as photogenic as Henley.

Puppy's first fireworks