Travel

I woke up early this morning, 6:30 to be precise, but I always have a hard time sleeping in hotel rooms. I made the unfortunate mistake of trying out Horst’s recommended continental breakfast which actually turned out to be left over WWII German Army rations. However, they say that military life builds discipline so I’m happy to say I muscled my way through.

I hit the road right after breakfast and made my way down beautiful Highway 71. If, you’ve never had a chance to make your way through the Quachita National Forest, I highly recommend putting it on your list. It’s really a beautiful area of the country and I hit it at a perfect time. There was a heavy rain last night and a mild morning which meant beautiful patches of mist hovering on the sides of the hills and making its way through the trees. The other thing I’m really noticing is that these road trips are really improved by my lack of smoking. There are a lot of smells that I’ve been missing for a long time. The smells of fresh cut wood, rain and smoke were rampant in the morning air. All in all, probably one of the better pieces of road I’ve been on.

Ah, vacation at last. It’s shocking how much work it takes to go on vacation. I’ve been frantically trying to tie up loose ends during this last week just for preparation for this short junket. Then when I get back, I’ll have a stack of other stuff to go through. Almost makes you wonder if taking these rounds of relaxation is more or less stressful than not taking them. Not really of course, but I do love to complain.

Well, the vacation is over. It has been wonderful and I am feeling livelier than I have in many months. It was wonderful to see my old haunts and good friends in Chicago. I had a wonderful life there and it was nice to take a nostalgic trip. However, I am ready to be back home and I finally have a good idea of where that is. It’s kind of weird, but somehow, even though I have been away for almost two years, I have still considered Chicago my home. I had convinced myself that my life was in some sort of time freeze awaiting my return to the big city. The fact is that my life moved on when I did. Time cannot be stopped by anyone. Even if I pretended to stop time, the world certainly didn’t. Well, I never was a quick study. However, it is nice to know that while Oklahoma may not be my final destination it is at least my current one and it’s not such a bad one at that.

Well, it was an interesting last couple of days. Tuesday, I had a spectacular dinner at probably my favorite restaurant on Earth, Rose Angelis. However, my affection for the wonderful food of this establishment is probably somewhat mixed up with the beautiful dinner companions that accompany me there. And that night was no exception. I hadn’t seen or spoken to Vicki in over a year but like all of my dearest friends, it was as if only been a day. I often think that the truest sign of friendship is this strange mystery of prolonged absences that don’t seem so. I think it has something to do with really having a connection of commonality that allows us not to worry that everything has changed since we last met. In any case, we caught up, drank a little too much wine and generally had a good old nostalgic time.

Well, I just thought I would give you a quick update on the last couple of days. I arrived on the afternoon of the 27th. God, I’d forgotten how much I missed this city. As I climbed off the train, I was struck with a nostalgic smell of exhaust, food and a cacophony of other smells carried on cool crisp air. I climbed on board the Brown Line headed north and was pleased to see that once again the Phoenix was arising from its proverbial ashes. New towers of glass were arising from what were either vacant lots or small structures when I had left. It was like some sort of Randian wet dream. The march of the condo’s continued its inexorable path towards downtown, eating everything in their path. Everyone was holding down on their car horns for no particular reason. People were walking determinedly down the sidewalks avoiding eye contact. And commerce rained supreme. All in all, everything that I loved about this town is still here.

Unfortunately, sleep was a little inconstant last night, just couldn’t quite fall into a deep sleep. However, I still felt relatively rested this morning. Took a nice hot shower which I’m sorry to say was hotter and with higher water pressure than my shower at home. Had a wonderful breakfast of quiche, fried potatoes and toast and retired to my room with a hot cup of coffee.

We crossed over the Mississippi about an hour ago with a beautiful shot of the St. Louis Arch shining in the sun (pictures to come). A few minutes into Illinois and I saw a very unusual hunting techniques. There were about three or four hunters lined up against the train tracks looking out across the thick grasses that lined the tracks. As we passed, the train scared up a flock, bevy, or what ever they are called of pheasants and the hunters blazed away. Quite a bit easier I guess that hiking through the thick grass. However, I do say that shotgun blasts outside your train window is a little unnerving. Something like waking up and finding yourself in a bad western.

There isn’t really going to be too much to this travelogue on board a train thing as far as I can see, but I’m writing them anyway. We continued on into East Texas as the sun slowly begins to set. As much as I’m enjoying train travel, I should advise those looking for beautiful scenery and general quaintness to look away when pulling into a town. For some reason, people of means don’t seem to want to live next to the train tracks. However, I have discovered that there is a whole plethora of categories that can be applied to the generalized concept of “junkyard”. Treatise forthcoming . . .

Well, if you haven’t already guessed, I’m on vacation. I don’t think I have ever needed it more either. I was feeling about as burnt out as I could for the last couple of weeks and I needed to get away from all that has become routine. I decided to head off to Chicago for a couple of weeks, see old friends and generally forget about work as much as possible. I’m taking the most leisurely form of transportation that I can, the train, which is really quite wonderful. I had a nice roomy coach seat from Oklahoma City to Fort Worth. It was a wonderful journey through the plains, grasslands and the ancient Arbuckle Mountains. Now I’m resting quite comfortably in my small but quite reasonable sleeping quarters.