Hello, lovelies. As some of you know, art imitated life in “Antlia.”
I am on the road, possibly soon to terrorize a town near you- or, more likely, a wilderness absolutely nowhere near anywhere you’ve ever been. I bet the chipmunks are cowering in fear even now.
Why? Well, when all else fails, you set your life on fire. Going on a quest- hitting the road, searching for adventure- is, historically, what one does to find oneself, or to find inspiration, or simply to break out of soul crushing ennui. I believe this custom has somewhat fallen out of style, of late, but maybe it deserves to be revived.
Thus, my answer to the Apocalypse of 2020: the Great Trek of 2020.
No future? No job? No home? No. Freaking. Problem. Take that, world.
*glances about nervously* *knocks on wood* [Defiance only being a positive attribute so long as it doesn’t jinx your own ass…. Got enough to keep me busy as it is.]
I’ve driving across the US in a pickup truck named Parker (yes, I know, how much more stereotypically American can one get) with a sturdy tent and vague plans of going out West…. Oh, yes, I see that I can get more stereotypically American, after all. The Great Trek ends when I say it does.
The Great Trek has arrived on the shores of Lake Michigan in Wisconsin. I hear crashing waves and surprisingly eery moos when I sit by the campfire at night. Got milk?
Also, moo to you, too.
If you care to follow along at home:
The drive to WI
Drove through a motherloving MONSOON passing by Buffalo, NY. I have experienced one or two deluges like that before, but they were down South and usually involved a hurricane. Or New Orleans. Or a hurricane in New Orleans.
Passed by a sign that read “Correctional Facility Area Do Not Pick Up Hitchhikers.” On first glance, sure, right, no kidding. On second thought, how many inmates have had to escape and hitchhike their way to freedom in order for someone to decide they need to put up a sign about it?
Why is gas so damn expensive on the PA part of I-90? For crying out loud.
Is the state pastime in OH pulling U-ies on the interstate? Obviously, rules were made to be broken, but have you folks really thought this through? No? Right. Well, I applaud your lack of good judgement, then.
Ashtabula, OH still has the Ashtabula Trees. [inside joke]
Unexpected good fortune of driving by Cleveland: there’s a Raising Cane’s in Strongsville, OH. I have craved this so much since leaving Louisiana.
Pro tip: It tastes better when you eat it in the bed of a truck. 
Out-WI-Go
Think I came up with that clever heading all by myself? Love, I am horrendously insulted. Wisconsin DNR came up with that terrific(ally bad) slogan.
In case you haven’t guessed based on my Constellations story collection, I’m taking up the whole amateur stargazing thing, and the shores of Lake Michigan are fantastic for that. Jupiter is gorgeous right now. I can actually see the Milky Way. I love it.
I haven’t been swimming in Lake Michigan; the beaches are closed here due to high levels of E. Coli. Hard pass. I’ll swim somewhere else, thank you.
Currently camping at Harrington Beach State Park in Belgium, WI. The highlight here, for me, is Quarry Lake. I found a pretty spot to sit and had very good success writing, overcoming my difficulties in the “Antlia” story for The Constellations. Basically every activity aside from fishing is forbidden on this lake. The people fishing were catching little tiny excuses for fish. The big fishies came and hung out in the water near me. Clever things. One of them was about a foot and a half long and solid white. Probably tasty; didn’t feel like diving in after it to find out.
A truly wonderful part of being an adult is that society believes I can now be left unsupervised as I light things on fire. Behold, I am lighter of fires, destroyer of worlds. I am also eater of marshmallows for dinner.
One disappointment to share: I observed my awesome little camp stove had some rust spots on the burner. I decided to clean it off with WD-40. This seems like an excellent recipe for a conflagration the next time the stove is lit, yes? No, no, it is not. The most underwhelming attempt at singing my eyebrows off that I have ever made. Isn’t WD-40 supposed to be highly flammable? Am I missing something? *sigh* Well, life can’t all be fires and destruction. I guess.
A final, upbeat comment: this little 2-man Marmot Limelight tent is beast. It rained buckets last night and nary a drop made it inside. Two thumbs way up.
Wrap up
This has indeed been an excessively long blog post. I apologize, lovelies… but then, if you’re still reading, it couldn’t have been that vexing, now could it. The length is a product of the fact that I have limited opportunities to charge my devices… it’s a rainy day, so I went into civilization in search of a coffee shop and some cheese. And a power outlet.
Does anyone want a postcard? Hit me up. I may even send you one.
Stay on the edge, my lovelies. You know I will!