Day 2 - Charleston to St. Louis

This was a challenging day.  I woke up cranky, still couldn't find anything, it was grey and rained most of the day.  It rained from the minute I got up to the minute I went to sleep.  The road was reflectiing the rain, and it made my eyes hurt more.  But, again, there were bright spots.

The gal that let me over and fingerspelled "UU", then a thumb's up when I waved her a thank you. The two different guys at the desk at the Super 8 in St. Louis - the one that helped me haul every single thing out of my car yesterday evening; and the one helped me haul it back into my car, reconfigured this morning.  The guy that appeared to live there, who gave me a break in proof tool for any hotel room door.  (I'm keeping it!)

Days one and two were crappy slogs - not the upbeat, hopeful start to an amazing adventure I'd imagined.  But maybe, in a way, they were exactly what I'd imagined.  People helping a fellow traveler, in whatever way they could.  

Day 1 - Norfolk to Charleston, WV.

This is the end of day three on the road and Bear and I are getting used to our version of Nomadland.  The first two days were slogs.  There were heavy gray clouds on Saturday and it rained on Sunday until noon or so - the kind of rain that creates a glare on the road that hurts your eyes.  The car wasn't packed right, I couldn't find anything, I was wearing the wrong shoes, and it made me itch.

But here are the bright spots from Day 1 - Norfolk to Charleston, West Virginia:  1.  If you ever want to find about a hundred people that would be fun to chat with, go to the Charlottesville Wegman's at lunchtime on a Saturday.  2.  There is a stretch of 64 West that runs along the river in West Virginia that is breathtakingly beautiful - it's close to most of my people, so do it!.  3.  There's a lot of places in NC, Virginia and West Virginia where you're coming out of the Blue Ridge Mountains on the highway and the elevation changes so fast that your ears pop multiple times.  I love this! 

We ended up in Charleston, WV at the end of day 1.  I was grouchy and itchy and still couldn't find anything.  Bear and I pulled into a hotel and I immediately went to sleep.  For about an hour, until the a/c kicked in, that was just slightly quieter than a plane engine.  A pattern emerged - weird hissing sound, followed by a ramping up to full throttle, which lasted about ten minutes, then stopped.  Then the entire pattern started all over again.  

Bear and I were out of there and on the road by 8 am on Sunday - Day 2.  Charleston to St. Louis.

One REALLY large tub

When I moved to Alaska in the fall of 2010, I created a blog called "Eight Boxes", because that's what I mailed to myself several weeks before I flew there.  Everything I would need for an entire year had to fit into those eight boxes.  Interestingly, when I left Anchorage, everything I had fit into my little Subaru hatchback I named "Blue Ice".  There was so much I didn't really need.

For the next few years I lived in odd places - a duplex near my school, a room in "Menopause Mansion", and then when I bought my house (HOJ - for House of Joy) I started accumulating things again.  Lots of them.  Furniture, electronics, kitchen gadgets, power tools, yard equipment.  My life today wouldn't fit into any sized car.  

So my challenge for myself is to only bring one REALLY large tub on this trip.  Ditching the therapy materials, myriads of books about Alaska (pretty sure they're outdated); and I don't need seven pairs of grey sweat pants or fourteen t shirts with catchy slogans and several shades of paint that match my house walls.

I'm moving into a fully furnished apartment - how much could I need?  

You'll Be Back

"You'll be back" she said, the mother of one of my speech kiddos.  She was a fellow Texan - long blond hair, big jewelry and black Dansko's that looked like shoes one would wear on the back of a Harley.  "Maybe not next month, or next year, or even this decade, but you'll be back."

That was May of 2011, when I was a in Anchorage for a pediatric therapy clinic developed by an occupational therapist and a physical therapist who were genuinely concerned about the well being of their clients and their families.  

I had moved to Anchorage, sight unseen, in September of 2010 to work for a different pediatric therapy clinic that specialized in sensory integration techniques.  There I met what I came to refer to as my "Alaskan Angels" - therapists and friends that changed my life.   

In October of 2011, I drove from Anchorage back to Virginia and rebuilt my life, one step at a time.  I returned to my previous employer, bought a house, adopted a dog and settled back in.  I went to church, exercise classes and family reunions.  I spent time with my two amazing adult children, took a few road trips, a couple of cruises and renovated my house.  I settled back in - and that, it appears, was the problem.

"You'll be back" didn't just mean I'd return to Alaska someday - it meant that I wouldn't, or couldn't stay settled in for too long.  It makes me itchy.

So, I'm going back - this Saturday.  This time with my dog in tow, and no particular agenda except to get to Anchorage in the first week of June.  

Through this blog I'll be accounting my adventures along the way with my trusty sidekick, Bear.  I know the experience will be different this time, and that's okay.  It should be.

But I'm feeling less itchy already.