Joan's 4th newsletter: June 23-August 6, 2005
This is being written in Pine Island, Minnesota while visiting long-time friend Cheryl Finnegan and her family. Cheryl and I met in Denver about 1979 when we were both involved in Denver Free University (sort of like continuing education today, but then it was more hippie/socialist/ freeform but extremely fun). It is blissfully cool today both inside and out, which is a true blessing after enduring temperatures in the mid to high 90s, and as high as 100, from July 4 through 23, and not much cooler after that – until now! You know the phrase "horses sweat, men perspire, ladies glow" – well, I did it all.
Since leaving my daughter Kelly's in San Jose on June 23, I've been in the following states for a few days or more each, in this order: Northern California (did you know there's a movement to separate northern and southern California into two separate states?), Oregon, Washington, Colorado, Oklahoma, Kansas, Iowa, Wisconsin and Minnesota. I've also touched down briefly in Idaho, Utah and northeastern New Mexico. The general look of the landscape was green, whether the terrain was the flat fields of corn and soybeans of Kansas and Iowa, the majestic mountain ranges of California, Washington or Colorado, or the ice age moraines of Wisconsin.
This trip has included 4 music festivals:
Kate Wolf Memorial Festival at Wavy Gravy's Black Oak Ranch near Laytonville, CA; July 23-26
High Mountain Hay Fever Bluegrass and Old-Timey Festival, Westcliffe, CO, July 7-10
Woody Guthrie Memorial Folk Festival, Okemah, OK (his home town), July 13-17
Dry Valley Bluegrass Festival, southwestern Missouri, July 21-23
Three more are coming up and I will do a separate newsletter about all of them because there's so much to share. Those not interested in music festivals can choose not to read it, but I know some of you will salivate over it. Just be patient – the final festival isn't until September 15-17!
The Semantics of Travel
First I'd like to get philosophical. In 1983, I took a college semantics course and learned one of the most valuable lessons of my life: "You can't step in the same river twice." I've thought about that often this year as I've traveled, talked with other travelers, and read other people's travelogues. Things are always changing, and we all see and feel and appreciate them differently. I've had a great time where others have not, and vice versa. I know I miss out on lots of celebrated "road food" dining experiences because I don't eat meat, and I probably miss some fascinating conversations with locals because I won't linger in a smoke-filled tavern. Camping in a van and a tent also puts me in a lower social caste than folks in the house-sized motorhomes – yes, really!
What I want to get across is this: every person's trip is different. You may not ever want to duplicate my travels. (One friend has already said "You had fun in Oklahoma? Really?!") I just hope you find some enjoyment reading these newsletters, and don't blame me if you go to, oh, Coffeyville, Kansas or Mason City, Iowa and wonder what the heck I found so interesting there.
Signs and Mottos
The following are too good not to share:
"We do not discuss politics, religion, or the Civil War." (saloon sign in the Tucumcari, NM city museum)
"Hold on to the door when opening it; the Oklahoma wind can be stronger than you are." (Clinton, OK library)
JOEBOB BAIL BONDS, Clinton, OK
Resistance is not futile - vote Democratic (billboard in Oklahoma)
The pledge of allegiance in a McDonald's in Oklahoma, with the words "under God" underlined.
"Coffee 50¢" – inside the Medford, Wisconsin library. Yes, they serve coffee!
Road signs in Utah along US 6, 191 and I-70 (Salt Lake City to Grand Junction, CO):
NEXT SERVICES 67 MILES
EAGLES ON HIGHWAY
DUST STORM SPEED LIMIT 30
Song lyrics heard at the Woody Guthrie festival:
"If the Christian nations were nations of Christians, we would have no more war." (Ronny Elliott's No More War, which Texans didn't like)
"There'll be two dates on your tombstone, and all your friends will read 'em,
but all that really matters is the little dash between them." (Life Down Here on Earth, Kevin Welch)
From Emily Kaitz's It's Tornado Time in Tulsa –
"Why make your plans to revolve around the weather,
when the weather can revolve around you."
Ingredients list for Snicker Bar Salad, County Market Deli, Medford, WI:
Cool Whip, cream cheese, caramel ice cream topping, Snickers candy bars, diced apples. (Yes, it said salad. I do not know what it tastes like, honest.)
Inside Price Tower, Bartlesville, OK (the only Frank Lloyd Wright skyscraper that was built):
Toward all
I raise high the perpendicular hand. I make the signal
To remain after me in sight forever
For all the haunts and homes of men.
* * * * * *
Where the city of the faithfullest friends stands
Where thrift is in its place but prudence is in its place
Where behavior is the finest of the fine arts
Where outside authority enters always after the precedence of inside authority
Where the city that has produced the greatest man stands
There the greatest city stands.
Walt Whitman, 1860
Price Comparisons
Regular unleaded gas: highest $2.65, Arcata, CA on June 27; lowest $1.99 in Iowa, late July. In Iowa and Wisconsin, they add 10 to 15% ethanol.
Laundromats: highest $2 to wash, 25 cents for 6 dryer minutes, Scotts Valley, CA June 22. lowest 75 cents to wash, free dry, Tucumcari, NM motel July 11 (and free at friends' houses thank you all very much!)
Restaurants: highest basic breakfast about $8, Leggett, CA (as low as $2.95 in the Midwest); cheapest restaurant lunch: grilled cheese sandwich and large order of fries, $2.95, 8th St. Saloon, Medford, WI.
Camping: at music festivals it has ranged from free to $15 a night (but the festival was free); highest $11 at an Iowa State Park (including hot showers); free at Elk City Park by a lake in Oklahoma. I found the latter on www.freecampgrounds.com and I'm the one who added the comment on the disgustingly filthy restrooms. Twice as a last resort I've boondocked among the huge RVs in WalMart parking lots in Oregon and Washington. The ambience sucks, but it's safe and their restrooms are open all night.
Gas station soda refills range from 75 cents to $1.25, and I'm up to the 44 ounce size now. It's too hot for coffee!
How to order iced coffee if no cold coffee is available: ask them to start with a double shot of espresso and add cold water and ice cubes.
Museums
So many cities and towns have history museums and art museums that I've become more selective about them. Here are some that have been highlights for me.
In Grand Junction, CO, on a very hot day, I climbed up 99 steps to the top of the outdoor viewing tower of the Museum of Western Colorado for the view and the breeze. There were great views of the city and surrounding plateaus, I located a gas station to buy a giant soda later, and there was enough of a breeze at that altitude to cool me off.
Bishop Castle on Hwy 165 in southern Colorado is a work in progress with spires and towers topped by a dragon's head, being erected by one man who writes "the castle is both monument and testament to the will of one man and like that man, it ain't finished yet. See it." Dusty, full of "stuff" including printed rants against governmental control, it is free but donations are suggested and there's a gift shop so visitors can contribute toward this man's dream for which he refuses to get building permits.
The National Route 66 and Old Town Museum Complex in Elk City, Oklahoma has the best Route 66 display I've seen so far, featuring motor vehicles, artifacts and audiotape narration for each of the eight states. The rest of the museum, which was outdoors in the blasted heat, included store window displays of many different types of businesses, a house museum open to tour, a barn with old carriages and farm machinery, and about a dozen windmills (outside of course!). Best of all was the soda fountain which was open for business! The other customers were four jolly Brits riding motorcycles on as much of the 2,448 miles of Route 66 as they could find, from its start in Chicago to the end in Santa Monica, CA.
The Will Rogers Museum in Claremore, OK is a cool, monumental building with lots of displays and video presentations and even an entire Hollywood movie. If you don't know who Will Rogers is – shame on you and look him up. I could fill pages with his amusing homespun quotes, often political, which he began to share with audiences inbetween rope tricks, but soon dropped the trick roping and just talked. He and Wiley Post died in an airplane crash in Alaska in August 1935 and even President Roosevelt mourned the loss.
The Dalton Defenders Museum in Coffeyville, Kansas has displays, artifacts and an hour-long documentary film about the infamous Dalton gang, who were lawmen turned train and bank robbers. Two of the Dalton brothers were killed attempting to hold up two banks in one day in Coffeyville, and the surviving brother served time and then wrote a book about it all, from his point of view of course. After seeing the scene of the crime (the bank's still there), and realizing I had driven past Shawnee, Oklahoma where Pretty Boy Floyd did some dastardly deeds, I de-cided to stop at the house in St. Joseph, MO where Jesse James was shot. But it was not to be – I arrived in St. Joe on a blisteringly hot Sunday evening, the motels looked sleezy, and I bagged the idea. Currently I am within easy driving distance of the Northfield, MN bank that the James gang robbed, and it's tempting me. But the St. Joe museum has the DNA evidence that the body in Jesse James' casket is really Jesse James. Hard choices when you're on the trail of outlaws.
When visiting friends in West Okoboji, Iowa, I was studying the map of Iowa and saw that I was near Britt. Doesn't ring a bell? The National Hobo Convention has been held there since 1900. At www.hobo.com, I learned about the hobo museum in Britt. A few days later, as I was sitting in the museum watching a documentary about depression-era hoboes, a woman came in and said to me "Hi, I'm Connecticut Shorty. Is that your van with the Woody Guthrie bumper sticker? He was a hobo, you know. See, his picture is over here." She was on her way to a newspaper interview and I wanted to watch the video, so we made a lunch date, where I met her sister New York Maggie. Their father, Connecticut Slim, had hoboed 34 years. Ten years ago, both Shorty and Maggie retired, sold their houses and belongings, bought an RV, and have been on the road ever since. I will probably see them next week at the 2005 Hobo Convention opening campfire ceremony at the Hobo Jungle down by the railroad tracks. I'll report on it in newsletter #5.
After that experience, most other museums could pale in comparison, except perhaps the National Motorcycle Museum in Anamosa, Iowa. (How do I find these places? For this one, I called friend Bill Wolmutt in Grand Junction, CO, who had lived in Anamosa, for some recommendations about the area.) The motorcycle museum has over 130 motorcycles, more different brands and models than I've ever seen in one place before. I was probably the only visitor without a tattoo. If I'd wanted to pay attention to the Harley-Davidson engine exhibit, I could now tell you about all the different types they made. But being the popular culture fan that I am, I was most impressed by Peter Fonda's Captain America bike from the movie Easy Rider, and a 1959 British Vincent. The later is significant to anyone who knows the Richard Thompson song (also sung by Del McCoury) about the dying young man who gives his "Vincent Black Lightening 1952" to a red-headed girl to ride. Vincents are rare. The bike in the song could be worth about $60,000 today, as some tattooed guys kindly and thoroughly explained to me.
On Thursday, August 4, at the History Center of Olmsted County (MN), instead of touring the exhibits, I helped paint the exterior of the schoolhouse. I guess that's true hands-on history. I did this gladly because my friend Cheryl, in whose house I sit right now, works at the museum.
Staying with Friends
I've been truly blessed by friends living in very convenient locations who've offered guest rooms or sofas, and scenic drives to get there.
David Kent (and wife Beatriz who was absent) live in Port Angeles, Washington. Driving there between the Hood River Canal and Olympic National Park, I passed numerous fireworks stands run by Native Americans with names such as "Ill Eagle." (Say it quickly.) David and I hiked a bit in the cool, mossy park, walked out on Ediz Spit to see the longest-lasting and latest sunset of this trip, saw two tall ships come into port and tie up, ate veggie fajitas and spinach enchiladas at Sergio's Hacienda Mexican Restaurant, and attended an afternoon music performance in a WWII balloon hangar outside Port Townsend. Being there also gave me an excuse to take a ferry to get to northern Seattle (see "My Wild Ride" coming up).
Bill Wolmutt and Freya Hite live in Grand Junction, CO, where I arrived on July 4. I'd visited them during my spring train trip at which time the theme was music and art. This time it was "starry, starry night." Bill, friend Steve, and I went out to a dark mesa-top (saw a herd of wild elk on the way), set up Bill's telescope, lazed back in our lawn chairs and viewed the Milky Way, some planets and constellations through the telescope and binoculars, and swapped stories and philosophies for hours. I am sworn to secrecy about the train stories.
Verla Dean and Jack Garner were my hosts in Independence, Kansas. So what do I have in common with the retired farmer parents of my Cabrillo College boss? Bluegrass music! They had lots of information for me about festivals and bands. Verla Dean made a very successful stab at cooking for a vegetarian, including fried okra coated with cornmeal – yes, it was yummy! Verla Dean and I went to three museums that we both enjoyed and she might never have seen otherwise, and I saw videos of square-dancing tractors and a tractor pull that I might never have seen otherwise. We were strangers when we met, but not for long.
At Lake Okoboji, Iowa, I visited my husband's friend since kindergarten, John Haviland, and his wife Judy. As background for some of you, my husband Mike McCarthy died in 1976, and he had been a folksinger and silversmith during our marriage. John and other childhood and high school friends have kept up their friendships and hi-jinks and get together regularly – many of them are retired by now. John has planned an upcoming gathering of five of my husband's friends to get together with our son Michael to share tales both tall and true about growing up and hanging out with his dad. John and I had lost contact about 20 years ago, so we had a lot of catching up to do. He says "Please buy 3M Post-Its and not cheap imitations, and help contribute to my profit-sharing checks."
My visit to Iowa coincided with the annual bike ride across Iowa, 10,000 riders on all manner of bikes including tandems and recumbents. We arrived at the eastern border and the Mississippi River the same day, but I turned north, stopped at the effigy mounds on the Iowa side, and then headed into Wisconsin. Every crossing of the Mississippi River is special to me, it's so wide and cool-looking, especially when bordered by abundant green forests.
My Wild Ride
Before leaving the San Jose/Santa Cruz area, I advertised on craigslist.org for a rider from Washington to Utah or Colorado to share driving and gas. A woman from Seattle responded. I knew we had to drive straight through, but hadn't realized what that would be like until the journey began. We drove about 3 hours each and then swapped places, stopping only for gas, food and restrooms when necessary. I amazed myself by driving through southern Idaho until about 2 A.M. aided by truckstop coffee. Some day I'd like to go back and see southern Idaho.
We left Seattle about 1:30 P.M. on July 3, and arrived at her parents' house south of Salt Lake City about 7:00 A.M. on July 4. I still had about 5 hours to go to Grand Junction, Colorado. I drove a bit, stopped at a shady rest stop and napped a bit, drove some more, fueled myself up on cold soda, and got to Grand Junction late in the afternoon. I crashed early and wasn't even bothered by the fireworks show being held at the stadium 5 blocks away. Miraculously, I was refreshed the next day, but I don't plan any more marathon driving for the rest of this trip.
The ALT Sandwich Story
There was absolutely nothing on the menu for a vegetarian at Mary Jo's Hobo House restaurant in Britt, IA, but I was with the two women hoboes and we were already deep in conversation. I saw a BLT (bacon, lettuce & tomato) sandwich on the menu and asked the waitress if they could substitute sliced avocado for the bacon. She asked, but they didn't have an avocado. I offered to supply it myself, and got one from the van. The waitress took the avocado into the kitchen, and returned with the avocado, a plate and a sharp knife. "The cook doesn't know what to do with it." So I cut up the avocado myself, and had a great ALT on toast.
What's Next
August 11, Britt, IA hobo convention opening ceremony
August 12-14, Willow, Illinois folk festival
August 16-21, New Beginnings Bluegrass Festival, Chillicothe, Ohio (Ralph Stanley, The Rarely Herd, James King, Melvin Goins, and many more – and it's free to me as a volunteer)
August ??, Cleveland, Ohio, the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum
August 29-31, stay with Pat who I met at a Crones meeting in Tucson in February; she lives outside Minneapolis; we'll probably share road trip stories for hours and hours
September 2-5, Chicago with Meagan Finnegan (friend Cheryl's 19-year-old daughter) to view art and architecture and go to the Hard Rock Café
September 15-17, Starvy Creek Bluegrass Festival, Conway, MO (Lost Highway, Karl Shiflett, Bill Grant and Delia Bell – I'll have to say hi to Bill from the curator of the Elk City, OK museum, Lynn Morris Band, Jessie McReynolds & the Virginia Valley Boys, J. D. Crowe & The New South, Blueridge, and more). I'll also meet up with Verla Dean and Jack Garner here.
Unplanned until the first week of November, when I might meet sister Marsha and her husband in Phoenix
… and then drive back to Santa Cruz/San Jose, CA at the rate of no more than 4 hours a day. No more wild rides!
Since leaving my daughter Kelly's in San Jose on June 23, I've been in the following states for a few days or more each, in this order: Northern California (did you know there's a movement to separate northern and southern California into two separate states?), Oregon, Washington, Colorado, Oklahoma, Kansas, Iowa, Wisconsin and Minnesota. I've also touched down briefly in Idaho, Utah and northeastern New Mexico. The general look of the landscape was green, whether the terrain was the flat fields of corn and soybeans of Kansas and Iowa, the majestic mountain ranges of California, Washington or Colorado, or the ice age moraines of Wisconsin.
This trip has included 4 music festivals:
Kate Wolf Memorial Festival at Wavy Gravy's Black Oak Ranch near Laytonville, CA; July 23-26
High Mountain Hay Fever Bluegrass and Old-Timey Festival, Westcliffe, CO, July 7-10
Woody Guthrie Memorial Folk Festival, Okemah, OK (his home town), July 13-17
Dry Valley Bluegrass Festival, southwestern Missouri, July 21-23
Three more are coming up and I will do a separate newsletter about all of them because there's so much to share. Those not interested in music festivals can choose not to read it, but I know some of you will salivate over it. Just be patient – the final festival isn't until September 15-17!
The Semantics of Travel
First I'd like to get philosophical. In 1983, I took a college semantics course and learned one of the most valuable lessons of my life: "You can't step in the same river twice." I've thought about that often this year as I've traveled, talked with other travelers, and read other people's travelogues. Things are always changing, and we all see and feel and appreciate them differently. I've had a great time where others have not, and vice versa. I know I miss out on lots of celebrated "road food" dining experiences because I don't eat meat, and I probably miss some fascinating conversations with locals because I won't linger in a smoke-filled tavern. Camping in a van and a tent also puts me in a lower social caste than folks in the house-sized motorhomes – yes, really!
What I want to get across is this: every person's trip is different. You may not ever want to duplicate my travels. (One friend has already said "You had fun in Oklahoma? Really?!") I just hope you find some enjoyment reading these newsletters, and don't blame me if you go to, oh, Coffeyville, Kansas or Mason City, Iowa and wonder what the heck I found so interesting there.
Signs and Mottos
The following are too good not to share:
"We do not discuss politics, religion, or the Civil War." (saloon sign in the Tucumcari, NM city museum)
"Hold on to the door when opening it; the Oklahoma wind can be stronger than you are." (Clinton, OK library)
JOEBOB BAIL BONDS, Clinton, OK
Resistance is not futile - vote Democratic (billboard in Oklahoma)
The pledge of allegiance in a McDonald's in Oklahoma, with the words "under God" underlined.
"Coffee 50¢" – inside the Medford, Wisconsin library. Yes, they serve coffee!
Road signs in Utah along US 6, 191 and I-70 (Salt Lake City to Grand Junction, CO):
NEXT SERVICES 67 MILES
EAGLES ON HIGHWAY
DUST STORM SPEED LIMIT 30
Song lyrics heard at the Woody Guthrie festival:
"If the Christian nations were nations of Christians, we would have no more war." (Ronny Elliott's No More War, which Texans didn't like)
"There'll be two dates on your tombstone, and all your friends will read 'em,
but all that really matters is the little dash between them." (Life Down Here on Earth, Kevin Welch)
From Emily Kaitz's It's Tornado Time in Tulsa –
"Why make your plans to revolve around the weather,
when the weather can revolve around you."
Ingredients list for Snicker Bar Salad, County Market Deli, Medford, WI:
Cool Whip, cream cheese, caramel ice cream topping, Snickers candy bars, diced apples. (Yes, it said salad. I do not know what it tastes like, honest.)
Inside Price Tower, Bartlesville, OK (the only Frank Lloyd Wright skyscraper that was built):
Toward all
I raise high the perpendicular hand. I make the signal
To remain after me in sight forever
For all the haunts and homes of men.
* * * * * *
Where the city of the faithfullest friends stands
Where thrift is in its place but prudence is in its place
Where behavior is the finest of the fine arts
Where outside authority enters always after the precedence of inside authority
Where the city that has produced the greatest man stands
There the greatest city stands.
Walt Whitman, 1860
Price Comparisons
Regular unleaded gas: highest $2.65, Arcata, CA on June 27; lowest $1.99 in Iowa, late July. In Iowa and Wisconsin, they add 10 to 15% ethanol.
Laundromats: highest $2 to wash, 25 cents for 6 dryer minutes, Scotts Valley, CA June 22. lowest 75 cents to wash, free dry, Tucumcari, NM motel July 11 (and free at friends' houses thank you all very much!)
Restaurants: highest basic breakfast about $8, Leggett, CA (as low as $2.95 in the Midwest); cheapest restaurant lunch: grilled cheese sandwich and large order of fries, $2.95, 8th St. Saloon, Medford, WI.
Camping: at music festivals it has ranged from free to $15 a night (but the festival was free); highest $11 at an Iowa State Park (including hot showers); free at Elk City Park by a lake in Oklahoma. I found the latter on www.freecampgrounds.com and I'm the one who added the comment on the disgustingly filthy restrooms. Twice as a last resort I've boondocked among the huge RVs in WalMart parking lots in Oregon and Washington. The ambience sucks, but it's safe and their restrooms are open all night.
Gas station soda refills range from 75 cents to $1.25, and I'm up to the 44 ounce size now. It's too hot for coffee!
How to order iced coffee if no cold coffee is available: ask them to start with a double shot of espresso and add cold water and ice cubes.
Museums
So many cities and towns have history museums and art museums that I've become more selective about them. Here are some that have been highlights for me.
In Grand Junction, CO, on a very hot day, I climbed up 99 steps to the top of the outdoor viewing tower of the Museum of Western Colorado for the view and the breeze. There were great views of the city and surrounding plateaus, I located a gas station to buy a giant soda later, and there was enough of a breeze at that altitude to cool me off.
Bishop Castle on Hwy 165 in southern Colorado is a work in progress with spires and towers topped by a dragon's head, being erected by one man who writes "the castle is both monument and testament to the will of one man and like that man, it ain't finished yet. See it." Dusty, full of "stuff" including printed rants against governmental control, it is free but donations are suggested and there's a gift shop so visitors can contribute toward this man's dream for which he refuses to get building permits.
The National Route 66 and Old Town Museum Complex in Elk City, Oklahoma has the best Route 66 display I've seen so far, featuring motor vehicles, artifacts and audiotape narration for each of the eight states. The rest of the museum, which was outdoors in the blasted heat, included store window displays of many different types of businesses, a house museum open to tour, a barn with old carriages and farm machinery, and about a dozen windmills (outside of course!). Best of all was the soda fountain which was open for business! The other customers were four jolly Brits riding motorcycles on as much of the 2,448 miles of Route 66 as they could find, from its start in Chicago to the end in Santa Monica, CA.
The Will Rogers Museum in Claremore, OK is a cool, monumental building with lots of displays and video presentations and even an entire Hollywood movie. If you don't know who Will Rogers is – shame on you and look him up. I could fill pages with his amusing homespun quotes, often political, which he began to share with audiences inbetween rope tricks, but soon dropped the trick roping and just talked. He and Wiley Post died in an airplane crash in Alaska in August 1935 and even President Roosevelt mourned the loss.
The Dalton Defenders Museum in Coffeyville, Kansas has displays, artifacts and an hour-long documentary film about the infamous Dalton gang, who were lawmen turned train and bank robbers. Two of the Dalton brothers were killed attempting to hold up two banks in one day in Coffeyville, and the surviving brother served time and then wrote a book about it all, from his point of view of course. After seeing the scene of the crime (the bank's still there), and realizing I had driven past Shawnee, Oklahoma where Pretty Boy Floyd did some dastardly deeds, I de-cided to stop at the house in St. Joseph, MO where Jesse James was shot. But it was not to be – I arrived in St. Joe on a blisteringly hot Sunday evening, the motels looked sleezy, and I bagged the idea. Currently I am within easy driving distance of the Northfield, MN bank that the James gang robbed, and it's tempting me. But the St. Joe museum has the DNA evidence that the body in Jesse James' casket is really Jesse James. Hard choices when you're on the trail of outlaws.
When visiting friends in West Okoboji, Iowa, I was studying the map of Iowa and saw that I was near Britt. Doesn't ring a bell? The National Hobo Convention has been held there since 1900. At www.hobo.com, I learned about the hobo museum in Britt. A few days later, as I was sitting in the museum watching a documentary about depression-era hoboes, a woman came in and said to me "Hi, I'm Connecticut Shorty. Is that your van with the Woody Guthrie bumper sticker? He was a hobo, you know. See, his picture is over here." She was on her way to a newspaper interview and I wanted to watch the video, so we made a lunch date, where I met her sister New York Maggie. Their father, Connecticut Slim, had hoboed 34 years. Ten years ago, both Shorty and Maggie retired, sold their houses and belongings, bought an RV, and have been on the road ever since. I will probably see them next week at the 2005 Hobo Convention opening campfire ceremony at the Hobo Jungle down by the railroad tracks. I'll report on it in newsletter #5.
After that experience, most other museums could pale in comparison, except perhaps the National Motorcycle Museum in Anamosa, Iowa. (How do I find these places? For this one, I called friend Bill Wolmutt in Grand Junction, CO, who had lived in Anamosa, for some recommendations about the area.) The motorcycle museum has over 130 motorcycles, more different brands and models than I've ever seen in one place before. I was probably the only visitor without a tattoo. If I'd wanted to pay attention to the Harley-Davidson engine exhibit, I could now tell you about all the different types they made. But being the popular culture fan that I am, I was most impressed by Peter Fonda's Captain America bike from the movie Easy Rider, and a 1959 British Vincent. The later is significant to anyone who knows the Richard Thompson song (also sung by Del McCoury) about the dying young man who gives his "Vincent Black Lightening 1952" to a red-headed girl to ride. Vincents are rare. The bike in the song could be worth about $60,000 today, as some tattooed guys kindly and thoroughly explained to me.
On Thursday, August 4, at the History Center of Olmsted County (MN), instead of touring the exhibits, I helped paint the exterior of the schoolhouse. I guess that's true hands-on history. I did this gladly because my friend Cheryl, in whose house I sit right now, works at the museum.
Staying with Friends
I've been truly blessed by friends living in very convenient locations who've offered guest rooms or sofas, and scenic drives to get there.
David Kent (and wife Beatriz who was absent) live in Port Angeles, Washington. Driving there between the Hood River Canal and Olympic National Park, I passed numerous fireworks stands run by Native Americans with names such as "Ill Eagle." (Say it quickly.) David and I hiked a bit in the cool, mossy park, walked out on Ediz Spit to see the longest-lasting and latest sunset of this trip, saw two tall ships come into port and tie up, ate veggie fajitas and spinach enchiladas at Sergio's Hacienda Mexican Restaurant, and attended an afternoon music performance in a WWII balloon hangar outside Port Townsend. Being there also gave me an excuse to take a ferry to get to northern Seattle (see "My Wild Ride" coming up).
Bill Wolmutt and Freya Hite live in Grand Junction, CO, where I arrived on July 4. I'd visited them during my spring train trip at which time the theme was music and art. This time it was "starry, starry night." Bill, friend Steve, and I went out to a dark mesa-top (saw a herd of wild elk on the way), set up Bill's telescope, lazed back in our lawn chairs and viewed the Milky Way, some planets and constellations through the telescope and binoculars, and swapped stories and philosophies for hours. I am sworn to secrecy about the train stories.
Verla Dean and Jack Garner were my hosts in Independence, Kansas. So what do I have in common with the retired farmer parents of my Cabrillo College boss? Bluegrass music! They had lots of information for me about festivals and bands. Verla Dean made a very successful stab at cooking for a vegetarian, including fried okra coated with cornmeal – yes, it was yummy! Verla Dean and I went to three museums that we both enjoyed and she might never have seen otherwise, and I saw videos of square-dancing tractors and a tractor pull that I might never have seen otherwise. We were strangers when we met, but not for long.
At Lake Okoboji, Iowa, I visited my husband's friend since kindergarten, John Haviland, and his wife Judy. As background for some of you, my husband Mike McCarthy died in 1976, and he had been a folksinger and silversmith during our marriage. John and other childhood and high school friends have kept up their friendships and hi-jinks and get together regularly – many of them are retired by now. John has planned an upcoming gathering of five of my husband's friends to get together with our son Michael to share tales both tall and true about growing up and hanging out with his dad. John and I had lost contact about 20 years ago, so we had a lot of catching up to do. He says "Please buy 3M Post-Its and not cheap imitations, and help contribute to my profit-sharing checks."
My visit to Iowa coincided with the annual bike ride across Iowa, 10,000 riders on all manner of bikes including tandems and recumbents. We arrived at the eastern border and the Mississippi River the same day, but I turned north, stopped at the effigy mounds on the Iowa side, and then headed into Wisconsin. Every crossing of the Mississippi River is special to me, it's so wide and cool-looking, especially when bordered by abundant green forests.
My Wild Ride
Before leaving the San Jose/Santa Cruz area, I advertised on craigslist.org for a rider from Washington to Utah or Colorado to share driving and gas. A woman from Seattle responded. I knew we had to drive straight through, but hadn't realized what that would be like until the journey began. We drove about 3 hours each and then swapped places, stopping only for gas, food and restrooms when necessary. I amazed myself by driving through southern Idaho until about 2 A.M. aided by truckstop coffee. Some day I'd like to go back and see southern Idaho.
We left Seattle about 1:30 P.M. on July 3, and arrived at her parents' house south of Salt Lake City about 7:00 A.M. on July 4. I still had about 5 hours to go to Grand Junction, Colorado. I drove a bit, stopped at a shady rest stop and napped a bit, drove some more, fueled myself up on cold soda, and got to Grand Junction late in the afternoon. I crashed early and wasn't even bothered by the fireworks show being held at the stadium 5 blocks away. Miraculously, I was refreshed the next day, but I don't plan any more marathon driving for the rest of this trip.
The ALT Sandwich Story
There was absolutely nothing on the menu for a vegetarian at Mary Jo's Hobo House restaurant in Britt, IA, but I was with the two women hoboes and we were already deep in conversation. I saw a BLT (bacon, lettuce & tomato) sandwich on the menu and asked the waitress if they could substitute sliced avocado for the bacon. She asked, but they didn't have an avocado. I offered to supply it myself, and got one from the van. The waitress took the avocado into the kitchen, and returned with the avocado, a plate and a sharp knife. "The cook doesn't know what to do with it." So I cut up the avocado myself, and had a great ALT on toast.
What's Next
August 11, Britt, IA hobo convention opening ceremony
August 12-14, Willow, Illinois folk festival
August 16-21, New Beginnings Bluegrass Festival, Chillicothe, Ohio (Ralph Stanley, The Rarely Herd, James King, Melvin Goins, and many more – and it's free to me as a volunteer)
August ??, Cleveland, Ohio, the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum
August 29-31, stay with Pat who I met at a Crones meeting in Tucson in February; she lives outside Minneapolis; we'll probably share road trip stories for hours and hours
September 2-5, Chicago with Meagan Finnegan (friend Cheryl's 19-year-old daughter) to view art and architecture and go to the Hard Rock Café
September 15-17, Starvy Creek Bluegrass Festival, Conway, MO (Lost Highway, Karl Shiflett, Bill Grant and Delia Bell – I'll have to say hi to Bill from the curator of the Elk City, OK museum, Lynn Morris Band, Jessie McReynolds & the Virginia Valley Boys, J. D. Crowe & The New South, Blueridge, and more). I'll also meet up with Verla Dean and Jack Garner here.
Unplanned until the first week of November, when I might meet sister Marsha and her husband in Phoenix
… and then drive back to Santa Cruz/San Jose, CA at the rate of no more than 4 hours a day. No more wild rides!
posted by Joan McCarthy at 11:41 AM
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