Wanderlust

The next day's drive was a bit surreal. I headed west through Pennsylvania into New Jersey, but rather than continue home I decided to take one last detour. As much as I wanted to get home, I knew that once I pulled my car into the driveway the trip would officially be over. I couldn't end this long adventure through America without enjoying my last day. To just drive home seemed anticlimactic. But what could I do? This question resonated in my mind until I saw a sign for I-278 North that led to the Catskills. I quickly exited I-78 and started heading north to those familiar green mountains.

I knew I had made the right decision as I drove through the back roads of upstate New York. The sun was shining in a cloudless aazure sky; the windows were down and I had a nice mellow mix playing in my car. After driving aimlessly for an hour or so, I decided to call Marty, who ironically was on Long Island visiting a friend. We agreed to meet me somewhere in between Long Island and the Catskills, which ended up being in Tuxedo Park, New York. It had only been twenty-two days since I had dropped Marty off at the Burbank Airport in California, but so much had happened since then. We decided to catch up over some food and spirits at the local Renaissance Faire. I don't know if you've ever been to a Renaissance Faire, but they are always a prime spot for unique cusine, great beer and hilarious entertainment. The NY Renaissance Faire is right in the middle of Sterling Forest, so after stuffing ourselves we proceeded to grab a seat on some rocks and reminisce about our time on the road. Marty was eager to hear my tales from the road since we had parted, and I was curious to see how he was adjusting to being back home. It was a fun, laid back way end the trip.

After a few hours I decided it was time for that final drive. I was very eager to just be home. The feeling of being in the New York Metropolitan area quickly hit me; back were the incredibly aggressive drivers, the familiar exits on the parkway, huge pockets of traffic and the always stunning skyline. It was a strange feeling crossing the bridge onto Long Island. I pulled off the Northern State and on to the Wantagh Parkway. I couldn't help but foolishly grin at how close I was to my goal. I knew I was finishing my gigantic cross-country trek. I finally pulled over in front of a very recognizable house on Fulton Avenue. I stepped out of my car and looked up at the violet sky, thankful that after everything I had been through I was back home, alive and well.

I have so many thoughts on the last nine weeks, I really don't know where to begin. The foremost thought I have is all of the people who helped me to take this journey. There is no way I would have been able to ever even approach something like this without the support of my family. My parents have always been there for me for longer than I can even remember. I cannot thank them enough for their unconditional support and love. My brothers have also always been strong supporters of the trip; Rob housed me for nine (long) days during my time out west and Andrew always patiently listened (and gave excellent suggestions) about how I should approach the trip during my planning phases.

Other people who need to be thanked are those awesome individuals around the country who hosted me, including Liz, Stephen and Olivia (I still have your card!), who were among my biggest fans and had surprised me with a wonderful care package in California; Grant and Taylor, who showed me an amazing amount of trust and hospitality (guildies stick together); my brother Rob (again) for letting his place act as my infirmary and letting me feel like we were kids again; Lauren Olivari (who sucks at pool) and Jeremy and Julie Eder (please call me if and when you are back on Long Island) also need to be thanked for being such amazing friends and hosts. Other people who I need to thank include my cousins Kurt and Mary, who prepared my last dinner before venturing off west; Tim and Kerissa, who showed me how to party Portland-style; Mackensie Cornelius, who may be the person who was the happiest to see me free; there are also a bunch of people at my old job who helped me accomplish the completion of the CPA Exam and the subsequent trip-I can't name them all, but special thanks goes to Mike who let me use his hand axe the whole trip. I also want to extend thanks to all the people who read and commented on this blog; I may not have always responded to your posts, but I appreciated every single one, trust me.

I would be insane not to mention Marty, my traveling partner in crime and a truly benevolent person. You tried your hardest (and mostly succeeded) in keeping me out of trouble. Traveling the west coast would not have been nearly as fun without you. I know he doesn't read this blog, but Anthony Olivari has to be thanked for hours and hours of long talks about "getting things done in life". I would be remiss if I did not have a special thanks for Alicia Haase, who showed a great degree of patience and was an important inspirational and motivational force.

In the end I drove 13,182 miles and through parts of 31 states. Once again, I can't believe the ride is over. Life is so sudden- it seems that one second you are planning something and the next it is over and done with. There really aren't words to sum up nine weeks of sweet freedom. I always enjoyed the quote by Saadi: "Roam abroad in the world, and take thy fill of its enjoyments before the day shall come when thou must quit it for good."

It's very odd to be back home. Some old habits have already begun to resurface (much to my chagrin). I know there are big changes coming in the near future, as I have a new career to crack into and figure out where I want to live. While many things are the same (in reality, nine weeks is a very short time), I feel like a changed person. I have opened myself up to much of what life has to offer. I have done things that I never would have thought I would ever do. I have experienced touching moments of truth and sincerity. All we can do is hope today is a good day and not take happiness for granted. Go out and do something you love, go take chances- it is better to fail than to sit and wonder if something is possible. Treat other people you meet with kindness, because we are all battling through life on this planet together.

I think the best part of traveling is that I dream. Normally I don't dream, but whenever I am out on an adventure I have these incredibly vivid dreams. This tells me that traveling is where my mind belongs. It's where my mind opens up allows all those good things to come in and effect it. It is the opposite of repeating the same, monotonous actions.

Someone once told me that they traveled a lot because each time it allowed them to, "fill their soul". I always liked that statement. I can certainly attest to its truth.

My soul is full. And now this part of the story is over. Thanks for coming along for the ride.

It was a grey and rainy as I left the state of West Virginia and headed into Pennsylvania. The drive was pleasant, despite the weather, as I knew I was officially in the northeast. Despite being above the Mason-Dickson line, I would end up seeing a lot of Confederate Flags this day, because I was planning on visiting the famous town of Gettysburg. For those who don't know (and if you don't, I feel a bit sorry for you), Gettysburg was the location of the bloodiest battle in U.S. History (over 50,000 dead in 3 days), and was also the turning point of the Civil War.

Pulling into Gettysburg is an interesting experience. The battlefield is right next to the town, and covers a pretty wide area, so people tend to take car tours, which totally worked for me since it was pouring. I stopped at the Visitor Center and picked up a CD Audio Tour of the battlefield, along with some maps and info on the monument.

I got back in the Scion and popped on the tour CD. It was then that I was introduced to Wayne Motts, military historian and licensed battlefield guide. Wayne and I would quickly become friends over the next 3 hours, as he guided me around the battlefield and explained to me the importance and happenings at each stop on the tour. I had been a little worried that a 3 hour tour around the battlefield would be a bit boring, but to be honest, I had a blast. Throughout my life I have spent a lot of time around people who love history, and have become somewhat of a history-lover myself in the process. There is something just great about standing in a place and soaking up the significance of the area- you feel like you are a part of what was. You can visualize the deeds that changed the course of the entire world.

So I drove on the tour, occasionally getting out to walk around some of the more important areas, such as the Devil's Den, Little Big Top and the High Water Mark. I actually had a lot of fun driving around listening to my new pal Wayne. I had no choice but to laugh at myself as I would approach the next stop, turn on the CD player and respond to Wayne's comments on the battle. There were a few comments such as, "I can't believe the South made that mistake Wayne!" and "Holy shit, that's amazing Wayne!" After nine weeks of mostly solo travel I felt very comfortable with speaking to my stereo...you just get used to it. It made the whole tour fun on top of informative. Who needs TV?

The battlefield was amazing. There is a great historical feel still alive at Gettysburg, from the jagged fences lined to stop oncoming troops to the canons set up along the road. There are a bunch of memorials and statues honoring both the North and the South. While I gave a New York glare at anyone sporting the Confederate Flag, I have to admit the tour contained some incredible stories from both sides of the war. In one instance, two brothers came upon each other in the battlefield, except one was battling for the North and one for the South; when they realized they were standing across from their sibling, they both dropped their guns, embraced, and ran off. True story, Wayne told me so. Another amazing instance happened on Day 2 of the three day battle when the outnumbered 20th Maine held Little Round Top with just bayonets (basically saving the battle and perhaps the whole war). The stories and history that took place at Gettysburg is just overwhelming. For me, the battlefield and tour was one of the highlights of the whole trip; I liked that I could be nine weeks deep into this experience and still be amazed. The battle culminated at the High Water Mark, where General Lee had the majority of his soldiers march a mile through a barrage of bullets and artillery fire towards the Union line at Cemetery Ridge. This straightforward strategy ended in disastrous losses for the South, causing them to lose the battle, while giving the North a new life and momentum in the war.

It was late by the time I finished up at Gettysburg, so I stayed at a hotel for one LAST time. I tried to relish the feeling of staying in a hotel for one last night, but honestly, I was incredibly excited to be home the next day. I hadn't seen my friends in family for so long, and I was way past ready to a welcome home.

Despite being pretty exhausted from touring Gettysburg, I had a hard time sleeping that night. A few times I thought of just driving home in the middle of the night, but I knew it would be a mistake, as I figured exhaustion would overwhelm me sometime in the middle of the ride. The road had been so long, and I had seen so much. I will save my closing thoughts on the trip for my next and last entry, but I was very reflective that last night. Places like California seemed like months ago. Chicago seemed like a year ago. Both were thousands of miles in the past at least. I didn't know if I was relieved or sad. Perhaps I was a little bit of both now that I think about it. The last part of this trip really had been a quiet reflection on the future, and how the first three legs of the trip had affected me as a person. I had been feeling a bit disconnected from home during this last leg of the trip. I don't know what to expect from the future, and in a way, I don't know if this bothers me as much as it used to. I know I can handle whatever comes.

I awoke early the following morning, and the first thing I thought was that I would fall asleep in my own bed that night. It was a nice thought.

The drive from North Carolina to the Skyline Drive in Virginia was actually pretty annoying. By this time I usually loved to drive, but for some reason I was a little bored with the ride today...at least until I got to Shenandoah National Park and the Skyline Drive. Once I pulled onto the one lane highway that runs north-south through the blue mountains of Virginia, I was at home. Trees, mountains, greenery, wildlife, pull-offs and the Scion. Although it was already mid-afternoon, I still decided to take my time along the road, pulling off to enjoy most of the views. The park was actually pretty empty, which only made it even better, as I was able to enjoy nature without being bothered by other tourists.

Shenandoah National Park has always had a special place in my heart. My parents took my brothers and I to Shenandoah when we were kids, and it's where I first fell in love with nature. It was the first place I ever saw real wildlife; I was ready for a return to Shenandoah 15 years later. So it was with great anticipation that I entered the park again, much older this time, and on my own. It was still as gorgeous as I remember; the Skyline Drive runs 105 miles through the park, with numerous stations and stops along the way. There are loads of beautiful vistas that allow tremendous views of the countryside.

I decided to go for a quiet and subdued mood, and threw on some Leonard Cohen, Songs:Ohia, and then finally settled on Mozart while driving through the park. I felt the need to keep the whole endeavor low key and thoughtful; I felt it fit my mood. After spending a few hours on some minor hikes and sightseeing, I signed up for a campsite on Lewis Mountain. The site was buried deep in the woods; you could really feel remote and on your own. While driving around looking at campsites I came upon a gentleman and his lady-friend. The gentlemen was playing "Wish You Were Here" on his acoustic guitar and singing. Well, I knew I had found my site. I pulled up right next to them and set up camp. Putting up a tent is a lot less annoying when someone is playing great tunes on the guitar.

After camp was set up I went over to introduce myself to my neighbors (Glen and Akisha). I also requested, and received, some Van Morrison (don't worry, I didn't request Brown Eyed Girl or Moondance). The rest of the evening I spent reading the latest George Martin novel and smoking a cigar. I had a feeling this would be my last night of camping on the trip, so I wanted to make sure I enjoyed it. Back in June when I left on this trip I had only camped once. By this time, I felt like a seasoned veteran. I had braved the heat of the Badlands, the grizzlies of Yellowstone and the poison oak of California. While camping definitely is limited in terms of luxuries, there is something just great about it. You get that fire going, crack a brew and just lose yourself in a book-occasionally looking around to appreciate the peacefulness around you. Just another avenue of life opened up to me because of this trip.

I must note that halfway through a night a couple took the site next to me. After the couple had set up camp, the guy pulled out a fiddle and started playing some folk tunes. So I had acoustic guitar on my right and fiddle on my left. It was an awesome night. I even took some video of it, because it was so surreal to be getting a concert in the middle of the Shenandoah Valley. I went to sleep to the sound of guitar. There's nothing sweeter.

I don't know if you've ever camped, but the worst part is when you have to get up in the middle of the night to pee. You wake up and start debating the cost/benefit of getting up. You try to convince yourself to just go back to sleep, but in the back of your head you know that won't happen until you get up to relieve yourself. This takes about a half hour. Finally, you decide to struggle out of your bag, unzip the tent, and then there is just the pitch black (and fog in Shenandoah's case) to greet you. I just thought I'd share this as peeing in a rainy, foggy, pitch black night is quite a strange feeling. I was waiting for a black bear to walk by or something. Actually, Glen told me that a black bear had walked through the camp the night before, but all I had ended up seeing was some deer.

The next morning was beyond foggy, but I was ready to get moving, as I only had one more day to see the park, and there was a lot to see. After a hearty breakfast of Honey Nut Cheerois and Nutri-Grain Bars, I checked out of my site and headed north along the Skyline Drive. Unfortunately, the fog was so thick in places that some of the vistas were useless, as all I could see was the thick grey of the surrounding mists. The fog also slowed my driving speed to a crawl, but it was kind of cool driving through the thickest fog I have ever been in. Plus, I was able to get above the clouds on occasion to appreciate an amazing view here and there. I made a note to try to get back down to Shenandoah in the Autumn, as I think the views would be beyond memorable.

After spending the morning in Shenandoah, I made my way north into Pennsylvania. The rain was coming down, but I had a destination that I had been wanting to visit for a long time..Gettysburg.

And I'm back on the road, again! I ended up driving all the way up the eastern coast of Florida on I-95. The ride was pretty uneventful; for the most part I just listened to Ron and Fez, Phish and The Allman Brothers (you figure it out, cause I can't).

Overall it took me about nine hours to get to Hilton Head, South Carolina. The only problem with the ride was that traffic on the Interstate hit a complete stop for about an hour due to an accident. Nothing like sitting on the hood of my car reading for an hour on I-95 while people impatiently stood around and yelled at no one in particular.

I was lucky enough to be housed by a wonderful young lady by the name of Lauren Olivari. Lauren is not only a great teacher and friend, but she is also the little sister of my close friend Tony (and a notorious pool shark). I arrived at her house pretty late in the day, so all we had time to do was get some drinks and play some pool. Luckily, this was exactly what I wanted to do, as I hadn't had a drink in about twenty days due to the steroids, which I was finally done with. That first beer was heavenly.

As I mentioned, Lauren is an excellent pool player, and while she took all four of our games down, I was ahead and should have won at least three of them. THREE LAUREN! This is way better than I normally do against her, so while I was disappointed I didn't get a win, I was at least able to walk out of the bar with a modicum of pride.

The rest of the night we just sat on her porch and BS'd. It was awesome hanging out with her, not only because she reminds me of her brother (they have the same verbal delivery, it's hysterical), but also that she is a funny and cool chick. It was a good night of laughter and libation. Unfortunately I didn't get any pictures of South Carolina, which was a little disappointing.

The following morning I bid thanked and bid farewell to Lauren and continued northbound on I-95. I eventually stopped in Raleigh, North Carolina. I liked Raleigh, as it wasn't obtrusive, but still had a "happening" feel to it. A lot of the buildings are old and the people I met were really social and pleasant. It was a hot day, so walking around wasn't as comfortable as I would have liked. However, I ended up downtown in Moore Square at a little bar called, "The Raleigh Times Bar", which was a pretty awesome place with some great microbrews, decent food, and a fun crowd (despite it being mid-afternoon). Along with a stellar IPA, I savored a turkey croissant sandwich with a delicious raspberry sauce.

After spending some time in the city I drove about 15 miles south to the Eder household. I had been introduced to Jeremy Eder many years ago through some mutual friends; while I have long lost touch with those friends, I still keep in regular contact with Jeremy, despite the fact that he recently moved from New York to North Carolina. It just goes to show that if you want to stay in touch with someone you just need to make the effort.

Jeremy's old place in New York had been the staple of "all-day" Sunday football, followed by Deadwood or Rome. I have a lot of good memories of those times. He's always been a great friend, and I was honored to be in his wedding party when he married his lovely wife, Julie a few years ago.

I pulled up to their house around 5:30 pm (I loved the fact that they have a Mets flag in front of their house), and Jeremy and Julie made me feel right at home. I was very excited to see Jack, the absolutely adorable addition to the family. It was just about Jack's bedtime, but I was able to get some time with him before he nodded off. I caught up with Jeremy while Julie put Jack to bed, and was happy to hear that despite the normal stresses of life, he is still doing well. I always find it inspirational, and yet somewhat intimidating, to see someone who has both a family and a successful career, and how incredibly stressful it looks to have both.

People who know me know I love a good barbeque. There are two individuals who cook the best barbeque. One is my brother Andrew. The other is Jeremy. Stephen you may be the third, but I don't think I have had barbeque at your house (we may have to fix that). We had Hamburgers, frankfurters, grilled zucchini and peppers and a wide selection of Sam Adams to wash it down with. I was in barbeque nirvana...there was no need for anything else. After dinner, we all sat at the table and just shot the shit, the way old friends should. It was really such a pleasant night. As I was nodding off to sleep in the guest room (their house is absolutely gorgeous by the way) I tried to appreciate how lucky I was to have friends like Lauren, Jeremy and Julie, who, due to geographical circumstances, I rarely get to see, but were so quick to open up their homes to me with an incredibly warmth and hospitality.

I left early the following morning, but was fortunate enough to be able to bid farewell to Jack before I left (just beyond cute). I gave sincere thanks to Jeremy and Julie;. I may not be able to see them often, but at least we were able to enjoy a nice evening together. Take what you can get in life and try not to take it for granted.

The next thing I knew I was in my car and heading to Shenandoah National Park in Virginia. It has been interesting how each leg of the trip has had a different feel. The drive west was filled with newfound excitement and mind-blowing experiences. The west coast was more laid back and funny, probably due to Marty's presence. The south was an odd marathon. Heading north has been more of a thoughtful experience. I like that each period has had a different feel, as it gives each area a unique memorable personality.

I also realize that I have been taking a lot less pictures on the way back home, mostly due to just being tired of carrying my camera everywhere (and also forgetting to charge my batteries). I know I am going to regret it.

A day closer to home, but the road isn't done with me yet.

I had hoped for a bit of peace in Florida. It had been a long road over the past seven weeks and I was ready for a little down time. Unfortunately, my time down in Florida didn't turn out as well as I had hoped. I awoke the morning of the 26th and realized that I had not yet turned on the water valve in the condo. As a matter of fact, it turned out that the water hadn't been turned on in quite a long time. My parents only head down to Florida a few times a year, and while they paid a guy to come in and turn the water on occasionally, it appears he hadn't done so in awhile (for whatever reason).

This information is relevant because if you are familiar with Florida, you know that waterbugs tend to live in dry drains. Have you ever seen a Florida waterbug? If you have, you would understand how startled I was when the little bastards (there were three total) started scampering out of the drains and running around the bathrooms. They were about as long and thick as my thumb, and fast to boot. I had flashbacks to playing Legend of Zelda at Rob's place as I ran around, shouting curses and slamming my newspaper down with great impunity to end their existence on this planet. We battled long and hard, until at last, I threw down mine enemy and smote their ruin upon the bathroom floor.

I spent the next two hours sterilizing the bathrooms. As I am scrubbing with extreme prejudice, I notice I am sweating profusely. I check the AC (which I had turned on the night before). I have it set at 75, but the apartment temperature is 85. Why? Because the buildings AC is currently down. Great. Because it's not like you need AC in Florida in July, right? I spent the remainder of the day catching up on stuff like laundry, food shopping, the blog, and healing. I still couldn't have alcoholic beverages, so I couldn't even enjoy a nice cold beer. I can't say my first day in Florida was a tremendous success.

The next day I finally ended up down at the beach, which is an elevator ride away from the door to the condo (all in all, about 4 minutes from door to beach). Despite it being summer, the weather wasn't too bad in Florida. The water was clear, warm, and lacked jellyfish. I was able to lay out in the sun with a book and just relax. In all my travels I hadn't been able to really sit on a beach, so this was a unique moment in the summer.

The following day I picked up Alicia, who had come down to visit her mother in Miami, but was first going to spend a day or two with me in Fort Lauderdale. The trip hadn't been kind to our relationship, but that's really no one's business. Regardless, it was really good to see her and spend some time with her family. Alicia is a beach-enthusiast, so there was plenty of beach time to be had over those two days.

Florida was really a nice change from the rest of the trip, although it was at this point when I started to yearn for home a bit. When I was driving every day I could just focus on getting to my destination. Once I found myself staying in one place and relaxing, it kind of made me just want to go home, so I could truly relax. It had been a long time since I felt the comfort of my own bed; actually, the thought of my room, my house, and home was foreign. I can't believe it only took about 2 months to make a place I had lived in for years seem distant. Funny how the human mind works and adapts.

Anyway, the rest of my time in Florida was spent doing random things. I spent a lot of time reading on the beach (almost every morning), and usually grilled on the beach (they have nice grills right down near the sand) in the evening. My parent's place is quite nice, and so is the building they live in. The only weird thing about the place is the residents. There are usually two different kinds....old people and rich people. I get a kick out of the old people as they tend to have that eccentric attitude that comes with being old, which I find fun and interesting. The rich people though, well, I could do without; they tend to be boring, judgmental and in love with themselves. They also tend to verbally probe to see how much money you have so they can measure themselves against you and determine whether they're "better". Ah, rich people, it's funny, but I really do pity you.

Let me make it clear that I'm not really complaining at all about my time in Florida, ultimately it was a pretty relaxing, and it was way better than work. The last few days there I ended up going to a wetland preserve where I saw a bunch of wildlife, including a gator (sorry, no picture, he got away before I could get him). I also ended up trying out a really nice vegan restaurant, called Sublime, in Fort Lauderdale. I never have really eaten vegan food, but my meal was delicious, and somewhat reasonably priced, despite the restaurant being fairly classy. It was a nice change of pace, and actually ended up being one of the better meals on the trip. Randomly, I enjoyed the drive from the restaurant back to the condo- I ended up blasting The Cure while enjoying a rare post-meal cigar. For some reason it kind of made the night.

While overall a pleasant experience, I was happy to leave Florida and head north on I-95. Having no AC for a week in Florida was really uncomfortable, no matter how many fans I had running. The homesickness has also somewhat taken hold down here, and I figured the only way to beat it was to get back on the road, where I felt free. Taking note of where I am in the country feels strange...I just left the third corner of the trip, and am now heading back home to New York. The thought that the trip would be over in a matter of days feels incredibly strange. I have gotten used to life on the road. This is what I am comfortable with. What will I do when I got back home? Will I be able to find a job? How long would my money last? Questions started to plague my mind, but despite my uncertainty, I kept a cool head. If there is one thing I have learned on this trip it is to deal with the moment and let worries slide off my shoulders.

And so, the last leg of the trip begins. I'm coming home.