Heartland

This comes from a rest stop about 30 minutes west of Des Moines, IA, because there are fewer cute coffee shops and more truck stops during this point in the journey. I probably can't spare a luxurious writing session anyway, as tonight's stop in Denver promises some reindeer games in the evening. I will be staying with Kelly Straub, a high school friend I've kept up with mostly through Facebook. In response to posts about my upcoming journeys, Kelly commented to let her know if I'm in Colorado. When my planned route crossed that way, I reached out, hoping to get coffee or a drink and catch up.

Instead, Kelly offered me a place to stay and promised some brewery visits. I don't know what strange modern alchemy has occurred to make friends maintained only through Facebook be so incredibly generous and open to connecting, but I love it. It's encouraging to consider that, despite all the thinkpiece fodder that is the Facebook friendship, the medium can actually be a way to stay connected to great people whose paths you're meant to cross again...ones who will pick up after over a decade and support your personal madness. Brilliant, I say!

Yesterday's drive took me from Michigan through Indiana and Illinois before finally finding me in my next Best Western in Clive, IA, just off of I-80. My first stop on my way out of Michigan came quickly, as my friend Zac recommended a stop at Zingerman's Deli in Ann Arbor. Zac had come into my life by way of Ann Arbor, having met my friend Alison there during law school, so I felt it only appropriate to take his recommendation. After all, I know I'd be bursting with Wisey's pride in the reversed scenario.

I found Ann Arbor simmering with the easy freedoms of a college town, even (or is it especially?) on a Sunday. When I found the mosaic'd sign for Zingerman's and walked in, I found myself among a mixture of parents dropping new students off and pajama-pantsed upperclassmen. The deli was even more of a well-oiled machine than Wisey's, but then again, there is some scaling between clienteles. I waited in line, gave my order to a young'n with an iPad, then paid a hefty sum for a Reuben so hefty itself that it could be thrown through a window with an ominous note attached. It was also delicious.

On my way out of town, I detoured past the Big House. While it's hard for me to feel interested in college football through a TV screen, the place itself felt hallowed, charged with hundreds of thousands (probably millions, if my math is right) of priceless college moments made within its gates. It's hard to be disinterested in that.

After that stop, there were few others. Instead, it was hour after hour of marveling as the trees thinned and endless fields of corn took their place. I have seen the Southwest, the California coast, the Deep South, New England, and much more. That is to say, I am no stranger to the absurd differences between different parts of the US. I am happy to report, though, that it still charms and surprises me to come across those differences. Seeing green hills swell and fall beneath the golden dusting of the corn tassels made the hours go by quickly. Even now at the rest stop, I can look out and watch the wind as it plays through the stalks. I tried to capture it at sunset yesterday, but unlike most sunset photos where I frame some silhouette against the deep colors, there was nothing but the land and the sky, neither of which deigned to fit into my camera.

A thought from the road this morning was how far I currently am from every last pin I've ever placed in this country. Atlanta, Philadelphia, DC, LA, even my destination in Tahoe...even my destination tonight...they all seem an unconquerable distance from where I sit. My joy in the road puts the lie to the "unconquerable" aspect, perhaps, but there is still an effort to be made. For the first time in almost a decade, there is no inertia to be broken. Staying put is not an option...at least, not a very realistic one.

I have swum out to the middle of the river and there is as much effort in turning back as there is in keeping the car pointed west, blazing into the unknown.