Day 6: Denver

Where were you when JFK got shot? More like where were you when you first saw the Rockies. It was Sunday, July 12, 2015, 6:57 a.m. Henley’s head was on my lap as I was driving over a hill, when the car reached the top and started the slight decline, it happened. There they were. It was so faint and I had been looking for them so hard for over 100 miles (because Colorado is supposed to mountainous, duh) that I thought I could have been imagining them. They were just the littlest bit darker blue than the sky. That was it. They weren’t cocky and in your face. They were just ever so softly saying you’re out of the Midwest, you’re in Colorado now, you can smile again. They are glorious.

We arrived in Denver at 7:30 a.m. so had the entire day to just experience Denver. A friend asked what my plan was for the day. “Marvel,” I replied. I parked on Blake Street in LoDo so that was our home base for the morning. It’s a wonderful neighborhood full of unique shops and restaurants (no chains), cool apartments, a rushing river, bridges, and parks. Turns out any research I did before this trip, which seemed like a lot at the time, wasn’t all that useful so while I sipped on a cold-brew at Little Owl Coffee I looked more into what to do and see in Denver. 

And this is why my research has come up short -- What do I look up? What do I do in a place I’ve never been? Sounds stupid, but you try looking up “things to do” on Yelp and some of the highest rated things is some paint night and Coors Field. Nope. Look on Tripadvisor and you’ll get a long list of museums. I usually yelp best coffee, and breakfast/lunch/dinner, whatever I’m looking for. Usually donut too. I look on Bringfido.com and find a good dog park or look for anything else Henley-friendly. That’s a big factor, of course: Henley. I like to find a good neighborhood to walk around, but that’s hard to find online. I know exactly what I’d recommend to someone visiting Boston, but it’s not necessarily what you would find on Google.

So my first impression of Denver: I’m in love. Wicked cool city, mountains on the horizon, nice people, perfect weather. Real good vibes. It didn’t take long, though, to feel this other vibe. It was weird, having this competing vibe creeping in. There are so many homeless weirdos on drugs that it actually dampened my initial view on this almost-incredible place. They could be harmless, but it’s still a little disconcerting. I was about to attempt to paint a picture for you, but I think you all know what a homeless drug addict looks like. Well now just exponentiate that. I was talking to a couple that owned a boutique (I got a cool Colorado hat!) and they said how much worse Denver had gotten in this way since the legalization of marijuana. Just something to think about the next time you vote. 

We explored for hours and hours until it was time to get settled in the Airbnb. Now -- yes, right now -- we are eating fish tacos and drinking beer on the patio at Illegal Pete’s. It’s hard for me to go out on my own like this, which is why I recruited Henley to be my date...and brought my laptop in hopes that people think I have a super important job or something. 

Look out Denver, I could be awkwardly eating alone at your establishment tomorrow. Until then... XOXO

Day 5: MO >> KS >> CO

We woke before six...again. After getting ready, packing up, and getting the car all set up with nice n’ clean blankets, we walked to nearby neighborhood River Market. River Market boasts of being the perfect neighborhood with all its dining and shopping options and events. It has a year round farmers market and is sprawling and very popular on Saturdays when it is outside with other vendors. It looked to me like the best neighborhood of KC so I was glad to be staying in walking distance. Ya well, get this: doesn’t allow dogs. You’re tellin’ me that your city’s one attraction, an outdoor market doesn’t allow dogs?? Bastards! 

Well we had to do something while we were here so we just wandered. We walked up through the financial district. It was very quiet being a Saturday except for a lot of construction as they build a street car system. We walked back towards the loft we stayed at and had breakfast at Happy Gillis. For the first time in my life I got the yogurt/granola/fruit option. I was a little disappointed in myself, but it was already so hot out I didn’t want to be eating a hot salmon benedict. It was really good for the yogurt/granola/fruit option.

I meant to drive to Westport before getting on the road, another noteworthy neighborhood I had heard, but I completely forgot once I got in the car. Time to drive across Kansas.

Pretty much what you’d expect. Flat. Farms. Corn. There’s exits with gas stations and maybe a McDonald’s or Subway, but otherwise...nothing. Not even Walmart. Scary. It reached 104 degrees, but it finally wasn’t raining! I kept looking for barbecue, but I guess it’s all too “real” around there -- no seafood options. Not even corn bread or collard greens, which I would like offered with blackened catfish and mac n‘ cheese, thanks.   

I’ve made it to Colorado! I’m about a hundred miles in and it still looks exactly like Kansas. Womp womp. I’m staying at a rest stop sixty miles outside of Denver. It’s not as nice as the rest stop I stayed at the other night. It’s old and the bathrooms are gross and it’s not as busy. I like the busyness -- less creepy. In the morning I’ll go straight to Denver where I’ll be staying at an Airbnb for two nights. This whole trip pretty much started with wanting to go to Denver. I’ve been told it’s very me; that I will love it. I don’t have any doubts. I have maybe unreasonably high expectations of Colorado. Let's see!

<3

Kansas City, MO

Kansas City, MO

H&R Block Center, Kansas City, MO

This duo. Sharing breakfast with Bear's new friend, George, the neighborhood dog, at Happy Gillis, Kansas City, MO

Kansas

Kansas

Kansas

Day 4: IL >> MO

We woke in a damp to soaked bed. The back windows were down with the Skeeter Beaters up and it rained all night. It smelled damp too. Henley was much more comfortable in the car last night, though. He stayed in back with me, stretched out and relaxed, looking how he does when we’re on the couch together. He’s been relaxed and easy-going in general. He typically gets a little over excited in new places, but he’s seemingly gotten used to getting in and out of the car and constantly being in a new place. He’s actually been pretty perfect in general. I wouldn’t have done this without him. I’d be so lonely and bored. But he’s been the best travel companion I could have asked for. 

We drove thirty miles to St. Louis and checked out the Arch. I’m an awful tourist. I see this famous attraction and don’t know what to do besides look at it for a minute. Cool, now what’s for lunch? I guess I should try to learn something next time. There was a lot of construction going on so the park didn’t look as great as it could or will. Also, St. Louis smelled weird, yo. I was near the arch and it smelled like brownies baking, except there were no brownies baking so instead of smelling yummy it smelled gross. I thought it could have just been a weird construction or landscaping smell, but later I drove miles to a completely different neighborhood and it smelled the same way! Anyway, we then walked down Market Street along a strip of parks, including Citygarden, like an outdoor contemporary art museum. Contemporary art and weirdass statues aren’t really my thing but still a really cool city feature. We got breakfast in that other smelly neighborhood, Benton Park, at The Mud House. Wiiicked hipster and delicious. 

We took off to Kansas City because I was dying for a shower and car cleaning. I checked into the Airbnb and by the time all the cleaning and whatnot was squared away, the sky looked like it was just waiting for us to step outside to open up. I took a long time to get out the door because I was waiting for the weather to do something to help me figure out a plan. It was getting late so I finally decided to just go for a walk to explore. I really wanted barbecue, a must-have in Kansas City I hear. I figured if it didn’t rain, I could eat outside somewhere or if it did start to rain I could get it to go. Either way, still get some exploring in and hopefully some cornbread and collard greens. About two seconds after I said “let’s go for a walk, Henley” it thundered and then it started down pouring as well as lightning. The only going out I managed to do was to my car to get out some food for dinner. We were soaked just doing that. It has consistently at least drizzled for four days, but this was the first time it actually put a complete pause on any plans.

I ate my assorted food items in front of the TV, going through pictures, and writing. We’ll have to get out there early tomorrow to see a little of KC and definitely gettin' me some vegetarian BBQ before a long drive west. 


<3 E&H

Pittsburgh the other day as seen from Mount Washington

Breakfast at The Mud House

My model & muse at Gateway Arch

Day 3: OH >> IN >> IL

I woke early, opening my eyes to Henley staring at me mere inches away, which is the case more mornings than not. My hosts continued to be kind and generous and we hung out for a bit drinking coffee and smoothies and eating hard boiled eggs with Sriracha. I took my time leaving, not looking forward to doing anything in the rain. Henley and I eventually left and went to a nearby dog park that had those water fountains that are flush with the ground. He was in heaven. 

Before exploring Columbus, damage control had to be done. I had washed my two white tees with a reddish shirt that had never been washed. I do not wear pink. I immediately drove across Columbus to Madewell to fix this disaster. Near-tragedy averted, now I could move on. 

We started in Short North, the arts district. This was kind of disappointing as it seemed to be just stores and restaurants you’d find anywhere else. I know that is not completely true, as I did come across cute shops located there when I was researching Columbus online, but I wasn’t in the mood for leaving Henley in the car or outside while I shopped. I did, however, leave him outside to run into North Market, a public market with dozens of vendors selling flowers, produce, fish, prepared foods, and more. Two Columbus treasures I couldn’t miss were Stauf’s Coffee Roasters and Jeni’s Splendid Ice Cream, both of which have a handful of locations and both have one of those locations in North Market. I got an iced coffee from Stauf’s and a mid-morning ice cream from Jeni’s: wildberry lavender and honey almond brittle. It was worth the ride from Boston. 

Next we visited German Village. It is a cute neighborhood with adorably beautiful homes. I’m not sure what else it has to offer besides a popular book shop, which did not allow Henley in so we didn’t stick around long. I had never seen houses like this before. It made me think about how the architecture of homes can be drastically different in different places. It sounds like such a “duhh” comment and I’m sure I knew this already, but I guess it’s not something you, or I anyway, think much about until you are in a place that has architecture you’ve never seen before. And where is the line drawn? Where does this Ohio architecture stop? How far east does it go? How far west and south does our typical New England architecture go? It’s similar to accents. I don’t normally think about people from as far north as Pennsylvania or as far east as Ohio having noticeably different accents, but I’ve heard some good ones. 

When it comes to seeing new places on this trip, I can’t even call what I’m doing scratching the surface. I’ve lived in Boston for four years and there’s still so much I have to do and see and get to know better. I love nature n’ all, hiking, camping occasionally, but I really love exploring cities too. I love living in a city and having that challenge of getting to know it constantly there, waiting for a day off to do nothing but wander, stroll, taste, sip, and learn. 

It's hard for me to decide where I want to be when I have such a love for both country/nature and the city. When I grow up, I’d like a farm house in the country. I want to raise kids where they can play in brooks and woods and fields. This home will need to be within a day’s driving distance from my city apartment, which will need to be an Uber ride away from the airport where I can catch a flight to my third home overseas. 

Next stop was Indianapolis. I guess I just didn’t do enough research beforehand. Better yet, talking to a person from Indy for recommendations would have been helpful. I thought I had a good little list going, including a couple cultural stops, coffee house, restaurant or two, same kind of list I made for each place I’d be stopping in. I first went to Monument Circle. Nice monument. Now what? I walked along the canal for a minute. Nice manmade waterway. Done. I feel bad for these cities I’m not even giving a chance. It’s not their fault. Not at all. I’m sure they’re great cities, but it’s the lesser known places, neighborhoods, things you learn from a trusted local that are important. I just didn’t get to do that with these places the past few days. I did find a great place though called Locally Grown Gardens. They do have gardens and sell lots of produce, but also had four entrees to choose from and a few different kinds of pie and really cool indoor and outdoor seating areas. I got salmon with a mixed green salad. Huge portions, delicious, reasonably priced. Indy is good in my book. 

I love Boston. I do. I love it so much. But you do not realize that the behavior that we are used to, even comfortable with, is not the same behavior in other places. Dude, people are nice in Indianapolis. It’s probably not confined to the city. Maybe it’s all of the midwest. And maybe Boston’s rudeness is really all of Massachusetts or New England. But, shit. People were smiling at me. Everyone! All the time! Individuals, couples, families, men, women, black, white. They said hi or at least smiled and/or said something to Henley and/or told me how beautiful he was. This didn’t happen a couple times. This was what happened with almost every single person I passed. Even if it was a guy, alone or with friends, it wasn’t a catcall or a harassing comment, it was a “Hi!” “Hey there!” There were times I would see someone from a great distance. I think they were looking at me, I think they were smiling at me, but I didn’t have my glasses on so I couldn’t be sure, until I got closer that is, which is when I could confirm it. That’s how far away the kindness began! It was actually a little exhausting because then I felt like I, too, had to smile and greet everyone I passed. I could only look bewildered at such pleasantries for so long before I had to accept it and join the club or else I’d be a cold Masshole like I was bred to be, evidently. What’s wrong with us? Why are we so cruel? Maybe we’re always just so grumpy about the weather. I was pulling out of a CVS parking lot and a guy waved goodbye to me. He waved goodbye to me! 

I noticed it in New Mexico and Arizona when I was driving around there this past January. Where I’m from, when you call someone or walk into a business, a polite conversation would go: “Hi, this is who I am and why I’m here or calling.” In the Southwest it goes like this: “Hi there!” “Hello!” “How are you?” And get this...they then wait for you to respond, to learn how you are doing. “I’m great, thanks. How are you?” And then you wait for their response. When all of this is said and done, you may move on to what you need. I’m a nice person. Polite. Pleasant to anyone and everyone I may talk to on the phone or in a store. But I had to really stop and slow myself down and not just barge in demanding help with something. Fascinating. 

I was hesitant to leave the land of the kind, afraid I’d never see such smiles again, but I hit the road towards St. Louis. I am now staying in the car tonight at a rest area a little outside the city. I have a pretty good set up going on. I first cleaned out the car and reorganized, a sometimes daunting, but always rewarding, twice daily chore. We stretched our legs a bit, Henley got a good brushing, and we are now settled in the back for the night. I got a Red Box movie for the occasion and just cracked open a juice box of wine. Did I mention I got a slice of peach pie to go? I’ve been smelling it for hours. I can stand it no longer. Goodnight! 


Here's a sample of my driving music :)

Scottish Rite Cathedral of Indianapolis

Day 2: PA >> WV >> OH

I woke up several times overnight. Jerkface never came and snuggled in back. I didn’t have any bug problems though! I didn’t hear anything all night -- no crickets, frogs, cars, or animals stepping on the forest ground. This morning I woke right before six. Henley and I both peed while awkwardly making eye contact. It was much cooler than last night so I left the back door open, lied back down under the light and fluffy down comforter, and stretched out. This time Henley lied with me. The cool air was a relief and we stayed there for almost an hour, just falling in and out of sleep and gazing out the back door, green woods filling the view. When we finally got up, Henley wandered around while I washed up the best I could and changed into denim shorts, a tank, and hiking boots. I reorganized the car, which has proved to be a difficult task. I can reach the stuff in the back of the car through the back door, but the back door can’t be open when I need to get in the roof top cargo box. I have to stand on back bumper to get in the cargo box, which I fall off of when wet. I have to keep walking around the car to get stuff in the driver or passenger seats or to stand in the back seat doors to reach into either side of the cargo box. Plus, I’ve been managing to misplace things even in such a small living space. I need a Volkswagen camper van.

I had been dreaming of making eggs, sausage, and toast over a camp fire. The first issue here was that there was not a fire ring already in place and I wasn’t feeling adventurous enough to make one. Instead, I used my little camp stove -- a metal stovetop burner-like piece attached to the top of a little gas tank -- in the back of my car. Being so small and very top heavy when there’s a pan on it, it needs a pretty flat and sturdy surface to sit on. Plus, it was raining a little (which it has been on and off since I left Boston). Inside my car seemed like the safest option. First I boiled water to make coffee in my French press travel mug. Delicious. Success. Then without oil or anything I cracked a fresh egg into the hot pan and next to it dropped two thawed vegan breakfast sausages. I knew even before I started it was a bad decision, but went on with it anyway. I had dreams to actualize. Using a sock, I took the pan off the burner when the egg was nice n’ burnt to the bottom. While in search of my all-in-one fork/spoon/knife, the pan falls egg and sausage first on the dirt/grass/pine needle/leafy ground. Of course the egg was safe, it was still stuck to the pan. The sausage, however, was covered in forest. I put in the work and ate ‘em up. No waste here. The utensil was still MIA so I continued my breakfast by peeling the egg out by hand and did not waste that either. Animal. 

I then found the utensil. 

I threw on a flannel shirt and baseball cap even though it was too warm but chose protection from the bugs. We hiked the AT for a bit on the other side of the road from last night. After an hour or so we left the woods and headed towards Pittsburgh. Pennsylvania is green mountains, old red barns, silos, and corn fields. We passed the occasional horse and buggy and I bought a quart of green beans for a dollar and jarred sweet peppers from some cute Amish kids with funny accents. This girl couldn’t add my $1 and $2.50 purchases. What are they doing all day besides sewing their own clothes and not learning math? 

Side note: I am ten minutes away from finishing the entire season of the podcast Serial. I am brand new to podcasts, but man, what a way to spend long drives. I highly recommend Serial and podcasts in general.

Pittsburgh seems like a nice city, but we didn’t get much of a chance to explore. I was sipping an iced coffee and thoroughly enjoying a vegan lavender donut at Espresso A Mano in the neighborhood Lawrenceville when I saw that Henley had target-like red spots all over his tummy. I wasn’t too nervous but later decided to show the man behind me who’d been chatting with Henley. He said I should definitely take him to the vets. He made me feel bad for not jumping up and rushing out when I saw it so I then jumped up and rushed out to look like a good mom, right after finishing my donut while he asked the girls working inside about local vets. I drove several miles while worrying they were going to charge me a buttload to diagnose him with symptomless bug bites. They did diagnose him with symptomless bug bites, perhaps he lied on an ants nest, but they charged me nothing. Hallelujah.

We visited Point State Park and the neighborhood Mount Washington that had incredible views of the city and the Ohio River before leaving Pittsburgh and driving another three hours to Columbus. I am grateful the rain has been light for the most part and at times none at all, but the weather has not been good. I would like to start a petition that gets tractor trailer trucks off highways when it’s raining. Even when it’s not raining hard at all, being anywhere near a truck, behind or passing, feels like driving through a lady-named hurricane -- ten-and-two, white knuckles, imagining my sure death.

I drove straight to my friend Heather’s friend’s house in Dublin, right outside of Columbus. Heather is from Columbus, but couldn’t make it from Boston like we had hoped. She hooked me up with a sweet alternative, though! Henley played and I ate homemade pizza, drank wine, took a hot shower in Dr. Bronner’s peppermint soap, did a load of laundry, and am now about to sleep in a clean, comfy bed. 

Goodnight from Ohio  :)  <3

(Pictures have been from my phone. Pics from my camera will have to come later.)

Ohio River, Pittsburgh 

Day 1: MA >> CT >> NY >> NJ >> PA

Henley definitely doesn’t understand we’re staying here -- in the car, in the woods. I got us all set up in the back and he’s sitting in the front seat just looking out the windshield like he’s ready to get back on the road.

It’s sweltering in here. The back windows are down with the Skeeter Beaters up -- magnetic screens attached to the outside of the car for things like this. They’re keeping the bugs out so far, but I can barely feel the air outside through them. I know that air is cooler than in here and I want it. 

This morning I said goodbye to Holl, walked HB around Roslindale for maybe the last time ever, showered, and washed/blow dried/straightened my hair in hopes I’d be all set in that department for five or so days. I packed the cooler and finished packing up the car and hit the road. We made several pit stops, nothing notable. Henley panted on me eighty percent of the time, sneezed on me a dozen times, and threw us in neutral approximately once per hour. 

It was about eight and a half hours after leaving Boston when I got to Michaux State Forest, but had trouble finding the head quarters where I was hoping to find a map, and then when I finally did find where I was supposed to camp, I had to backtrack several miles. I’m not sure how this forest road camping works everywhere, but for this state forest I had to request a free permit online ahead of time. I had to pick a campsite from about four options, but on this same page they said how there are many more campsites. So already I was confused. Also, there was nothing to print, nothing to pick up, no one I had to check in with. And finding this “campsite” was nearly impossible. No...impossible. I found the road, but there were several campsites, which are just spots cleared of trees you can pull into. No signs or numbers anywhere that correlate with the numbered campsites on the map. I’m quite certain no cares if I’m here or where I am so I don’t understand why they play the permit charade. 

Anyway, I crossed over the Appalachian Trail, which I wanted to hike a bit so I pulled into a spot shortly after. I threw on taller socks and hiking boots, doused myself in bug spray, attached mace and a knife to Henley’s leash, and headed towards the AT. We hiked for about an hour, leaving enough day light to clean up the car, make dinner, etc. We met a guy about my age hiking the entire AT. So cool! I could have talked to him for hours and asked a million more questions, but I eventually let him go. For dinner I had a hearty roll, half an avocado, a tube of (nonperishable, single serving) hummus, and a PA-brewed beer. For dessert I drank a Lindt chocolate truffle that was completely liquid after sitting in the car all day and then threw some berries on a pudding Snack Pack, no spoon needed. I’ve basically already become an animal.

So now I’m lying in the back of the car with my little lantern on, which I turn off whenever I hear a noise. I’m finishing my beer and trying to feel a breeze through the window. Henley’s lying in the front seat. He better come back here! I’m about to begin Steinbeck’s Travels with Charley. I bet Charley snuggled with John...

Goodnight from Pennsylvania!

<3

Bye Boston!

Finally out of the car, hiking the Appalachian Trail

Our campsite 

wild & free

I love the word wild. I like when it describes animals and flowers. I especially like when it describes people. One definition is “uncontrolled or unrestrained, especially in pursuit of pleasure.” Ahh, I love this. However, synonyms can include undisciplined, unruly, rowdy, and disorderly. This word of mine has a funny way about it like that, I guess. it’s not just that wild has several meanings. What is more notable is that it can receive different reactions to the same definition. 

A person with that description would be a person I’d admire, but others that disagree with me could use those synonyms to describe that same person, for the same reasons that I would want to call that free spirit my friend and idol. I idolize strong-willed men and women who have to come up against everyone around them living a default-setting life and pull through doing whatever it is they want. That default-setting is so easy to fall into though, so easy to flow with, get approved of, and never questioned. Hey, if you love your life, but it happens to be that traditional way, that’s fine, that’s great. I’m just concerned for those who do not love their life and are only living it because it was the default they fell into. I do not want that to be me. 

The wild, to me, are free thinkers, risk takers, dreamers, doers. They do what they want, do what they love, without fear of what others may think, without fear of being different. That’s who I admire. That’s who I aim to be.

Henry David Thoreau, the great wild man himself, said “whatever has not come under the sway of man is wild. In this sense, original and independent men are wild - not tamed and broken by society.” He also said “go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined.” And “disobedience is the true foundation of liberty. The obedient must be slaves.” Good man. 

I leave in eight hours! With that said, I am prone to homesickness. I’m already feeling it and I haven’t left yet. I’ll arrive somewhere and think “Why did I do this? I just want to be home on the couch!” My couch + Henley + TV = mega comfort zone. Luckily, I’ll be with Henley, and home is wherever I’m with him, so instead of being severely homesick, I will just be mildly uncomfortable. I think a contributing factor to my not quite chipper mood is that Holly and I will be moving the day I get home. We’ve lived here for four years and love it, but Holly bought a condo so we’re moving to a new neighborhood. We’re excited, but I will miss it here. It’s home. Walking Henley around the village was our last walk around the village, cooking dinner was our last dinner here together, everything felt like shutting the door on this wonderful phase of our lives.

This move meant packing everything, not just for the trip. Sitting at my dining room table right now I am flanked on both sides by long rows of packed boxes stacked three or four high. The walls are bare, my room is nearly empty, the back of my car looks like a comfy bed, and a very large car roof cargo box (hopefully secured properly) is full. 

It’s go time. First stop: Pennsylvania! 

<3 E&H

There’s no where to go but everywhere.