i heart you, road trip

Ahh......home from our mega road trip and camp out. We trekked across the Western states like nobody's business...Utah, Idaho, Oregon, Montana and back home. I know I am biased as a born and bred Westerner, but I do not believe that there is an ugly state in the West. They all seem to have their discrete charm. Mountains, plains, jagged peaks, rolling hillocks, rivers, lakes, deep gorges, mossy forest floors, waterfalls, and so much wild life. It really buoyed me to see that so much of the American West still feels wild and untouched. There were hours long drives in Idaho and Montana filled with NOTHING, in a good way. I relish the thought of all that space and only find a little bit of fear in what might happen to it in the future. I get so caught up with thinking about all that has been ruined or degraded or disrespected in these modern days and it feels really wonderful to get out and see that so much unabashed wildness still remains.

I love road trips and seeing the land change and morph and watching those little towns come and go and trying to imagine whether or not I could ever live there. I pretty much always feel a push-pull in my psyche between rural and urban. Maybe we all do? I eat up big city amenities like art, good food, sleek well designed spaces, fashion, being surrounded by culturally literate, open minded folks wearing groovy shoes.... but then I also hate that I check my email 5 times a day, spend more time driving than walking, have to worry if Cleo rides her bike more than 5 houses up the street, and have only recently been able to say that I truly know my neighbors. I would like to think that I could hack it in Farmland or Mountainville, USA--working the land and having more time to myself to grow stuff, think big thoughts, and raise my little brood. It is a tough call and maybe I will never be settled until I have had a run at living in the sticks. (Affectionately said, of course.)

But I do think it is easy to idealize the rural. It is pretty clear to me that I know next to nothing about how to really make a living off the land. I know my fair share about plants but I have yet to come across a field of what have you, with the exception of corn and wheat, that I didn't wish the farmer had put a sign up just like they do at the museum saying what the hell is planted in there and what they do with it. Same thing for livestock...what kind of cows are those? And I still don't get why so many people seem to grow hay when I regularly saw signs on the road side saying hay bales for sale $6 a bale! How can anyone make a living on that? Maybe only making $6 for all your efforts isn't that big a deal when you have acres of fertile, gorgeous, untouched land to call your own. Maybe literally owning a piece of that wildness is way more defining and securing than a bank account statement could ever indicate?

I come back from trips refilled and inspired, but also glad to be home and step back into my routine. I recognize that vacations allow me a lot of uncommon pleasures...here are some of my favorites from Mega Road Trip 2009:

1. Car Dancing. (I credit my Dad with instilling in me a real love of upper body, seat belt friendly and utterly nerdy jamming.)

2. Smores. I mean, really, is there a better, more sensual dessert? Single serving, hands on, gooey, delicious goodness. Yum! I wanted them equally as much as Cleo did.

3. Star gazing. I tripped out looking up at the stars quite a few nights. I have always had a goal of understanding and recognizing the constellations but for once I didn't let myself feel frustrated with all that I don't know when I looked up and just enjoyed the sheer magnitude of them and my infinitesimal, smaller than spore like size in this universe. Way to put me in my place, sky.

4. Sleeping adjacent to my beloveds. It was beyond cozy to share a tent with my family. Trying at times, sure, but I would get a wave of giddiness each night when I would snuggle down into my bag and get to look right at the sleeping faces of my kids or whisper with Jaren long into the night. It was lovely and certainly a phase of life that I imagine I will long for when I have two teenagers who don't even want to be in the car with me, let alone sleep next to me!

5. Listening to hours and hours of This American Life podcasts. I think Ira Glass is a genius.

6. Eating junky road food to the point that I am ready to be a health freak for the next few months. I actually ate a vanilla flavored Zinger and several red licorice ropes, both things I haven't eaten since probably 1989.

7. Catching up with friends without interruption for days on end. My lovely and dear friend Morgan found the most exquisite cabin in the middle of nowhere for us to lay our heads, let the kids run wild, and stay up late and drink wine and play Apples to Apples and make memories. If she keeps planning perfect vacations, then god damnit, I am just going to have to keep going on them.

8. Letting Flynn get dirty and stay dirty and letting Cleo pick every single berry off pretty much every single bush in our campsite. Two things that would never fly on the homestead!

9. Unplugging. Literally and Figuratively.

10. Eating an apple pie made from scratch with apples picked by hand in an orchard out the front door of the cabin.