Restless : Checking in

A trip like this can really restore a person’s faith in humanity. I have met such wonderful people, most quick to offer a connection, recommendation, shared experiences and even generous hospitality. The independence and opportunity for quiet reflection of solo travel are great but, at least in my case, the experience also heightens my appreciation for interactions with people in all sorts of different places. It's hard to articulate but I feel more present and alive. (I suppose that this morning's good coffee and several weeks without news/social media are also factors.)

I enjoyed a few rainy days in New Hampshire and Vermont. Small towns in the White Mountains and then upstate New York all made my “must return” list.

Skowhegan off of Highway 20 heading West from Maine

Lancaster, New Hampshire

St. Johnsbury, Vermont

Beautiful moving mist near Woodstock

Niagara Falls truly was magnificent and, even though there were crowds of tourists, I loved the fact that so many different people from all walks of life and places around the world were all there with the same purpose, to see that awe inspiring place.

Upstream, I threw this piece of wood out as far as I could, to give it the ride of its life

In a serendipitous detour, I stumbled across the annual “Trekfest” in Riverside, Iowa, the future birthplace of Captain James T Kirk. I saw the town designation on the atlas and thought I’d check it out. At the local museum, I was enjoying conversation and, before I knew it, Hannah and I were flying along in a golf cart with new friends in a personal tour of the town! A good live band was playing, there were bounce houses for the kids, a demolition derby and fireworks on the way. I had the best lemonade I can remember and would have stayed for the evening if I’d had more time.

I drove on toward Des Moines and within an hour, the weather changed from blue sky to gray, and then a deluge of rain so strong that I couldn’t even see the side of the road to pull off safely. I followed a truck’s hazard lights to the shoulder and waited it out until I could drive to a truck stop. It continued to storm on and off all night and in the morning, an accumulation of people (including me) were all sleeping in their cars in the parking lot. It was actually really fun as we talked over truck stop coffee in the morning, no one cared about rumpled clothes or hair sticking up. Even the Iowans said they’d not experienced anything like it. It was awesome.

Early the next morning, I headed to Jewell, Iowa, the small town where some of my ancestors settled when they arrived from Norway in the 1800s. At the local cemetery, I pulled a few weeds and added an impromptu bouquet of wildflowers picked from the nearby field.