a drive.

and so it begins. hit the ground runnin'. put on those travelin' shoes. cowboy up. take off. let go. i'm not standin' still on this mountain, i'm chasin' down what's been hauntin' me. i've got the wanderin' blues. whatever phrase or lyric you want to mutter under your breath, it has started. 

i'm not quite sure what day it is. that seems to be a common theme when i venture from west to east. i tend to loose track in the stillness of home. and it is a great feeling-- no deadlines, no clocking in, no rushing. it is still. and i loose track of what day it is. i think its wednesday. we'll go with that until somebody comes home and i can ask them. 

backtracking a little. last saturday things began. i packed up ol' mazey (that sweet sweet volvo that has done me well), and hit the highway. me. my cowboy hat. my side-kick buches. my map. some great mixes of music. a will to not use the air-conditioning. and a shit-load of my belongings. i'll spare all of the dreamy details of the trip. but here are a few highlights: 

day one: seattle to twin falls idaho. six hundred twenty seven miles. a lot of mixed emotions leaving a place and people i love so much. but ready to venture out and on. i play games with myself to pass the time. they're fun(ny). 

day two: twin falls idaho to north platte nebraska. eight hundred forty one miles. i realize i am a sucker for scenic overlooks, and for any excuse to pull off the highway and see somethin to see. i witness the beauty of southern idaho, the grand canyon-esque images of twin falls. it is on this day that i learn that mazey does not like to go 70 miles-an-hour in the rain, and she will in fact fake a flat tire in order for me to pull over. wuss. rightfully so, i wouldn't want to go that fast in that weather either. driving through southern wyoming is amazing, full of thunderstorms and rain and that incredible country scent. i'd bottle that if i could. cornfields and sunsets are worth mentioning. 

day three: north platte nebraska to grand rapids michigan. nine hundred miles. western iowa was my favorite part of the drive (highway 680). beautiful with rolling green hills and farms and land. it is hot though. without using the ac, i read 102 degrees on the thermometer. oh my. it is on this day that i get pulled over. a small bump in the trip. no i wasn't speeding, i was guilty of having flowers hanging from my rear-view mirror. "oh, and would you mind opening your trunk?" ok, douchebag. sure. and then i reach michigan. i hear the crickets--they're so loud that i can hear them even when the windows down and driving. and then, knapp street and the valley and the walnut tree and the front porch and home. 

i cried myself silly when i started. i laughed myself silly when i put in the comedy albums (thanks d and t). i danced. i sweated. and i made it. 

and from this front porch i write now. full of rivaling nostalgia: for what this home is and used to be, for my home in seattle, and for all that is to come. sitting on the front porch, rockin' away.