i feel guilty because the entire time i was plotting on leaving, i was plotting on leaving without saying goodbye, and just like... having a note on the fridge. be all bad ass and make my presence wrapped in a veil of mystery and suspense... and then finally someone who pays attention would notice the note and be all 'oh snap he left!' and then text me 'you wily dog....' but it would be too late because i'd have left so early i would already have crossed the border and into the place where airplane mode rules and getting internet is like getting a drink of water after a jog. and i wouldn't get the text until i returned to canada, 2-5 months later and chuckle to myself as i received a barrage of months old text messages regarding my whereabouts the surprises of my beloved ones.
ALAS. i cried. too much. and all the way home. then again. and then it became a joke as i didn't leave and then continued to didn't leave... and THEN i left, and it was a joyous fully alone experience anyways. got my closure, got my bad ass. i'm breakin this down into KM sections because... when i stop writing then start writing again, i binge and write everything. think of them as chapters. read at your own pace. tis'nt a race. but i always do this don't i...
kms 1-1284.
it was nice because although i wanted to try and sleep (since i was going to leave at the same time via cell phone communication with my edmonton family at 5:30am), i ended up not finishing painting/packing/eating til 3:30, so i decided psh, i'm leaving now. so i did. at 4:30 because my comp was being a waaaaaaaaaaankerBUTIDIGRESS- i was to meet my fam in regina, approximately 8-9 hours later. 7 hours later, when i arrived after several close calls involving drowsiness, mild hallucinations and urination withholding, i quickly went the wrong direction through regina (y'know, so i could say i've seen it (and now that i've seen it, i can rightly judge it as 'sucked' without feeling the guilt of an ignorant accusation)) until i stumbled upon the assigned chapters rendezvous. after cheaply purchasing 'ender's game' (victory.) i set up my bed in scout and snoozed until laughter and the knocking of windows aroused me to greet my smiling cousins. uncle bought me starbucks. i climbed into the jeep with cousins and gave my keys to uncle to take scout for a spin and soon enough (after the untimely arrival of caffeine mixed with family greetings E N E R G Y) i was passed right out. it was a glorious time travel as we had promptly reached the town of estevan and it was now my turn to get back in scout and drive across the border. which... going into ND, is soooooooOOOOOO much easier than other border crossings.. because they don't care. the most penetrating question i got was why i had a tennis racket, going to a place where it was obviously winter. not the flat of spray paint, over packed bags for 'a thanksgiving visit' or the box of puppies... just jostling me for having an expectation of a pleasant match vs anyone who dare challenge my inexperienced yet aggressively hostile serve. regardless, i never drive away from a border crossing stating 'that was a joy.' because it has only happened once. this once.
5-6 hours later we arrived in the lovely bismarck, north dakota, where we were showered with promises of sloppy joes and family interactions. my immediate fam was already there and after quick hellos and the usually 'cripes you're big' surprises, we discovered the lads would be staying in the basement together. for the first time in 8 years! excitement. my exhausted brain couldn't handle must stimulus beyond this, and quickly degraded into silent couch sitting and quiet observing of the subtle conversations of the family blood around me (though at one point, when it was just us 'children' in the basement, david said he had a good story and i PROMPTLY told him i was going to follow up his story, with a better story. so he told his story, which was monitored by the ever listening ears of eric who was quick to guard and censor as david started with saying it was in a bar. drew assured us our 15 year old cousin karis could handle it (detrimental to my debilitated understanding as you'll soon see) and as david continued and finished his story, my immediate follow up/opening sentence was 'so i had this wet dream...' which was very quickly introduced to the pleading shouts of all 4 listeners in the room. karis ran out, david through drew gaped in shock at my lack of tact (although gave me permission to finish the story once little karis had left), and immediately i became the brunt of hours of verbal prodding. of course they would tell father and uncle the filth that so freely flowed from my mouth. there was nothing i could do but smile as when i woke up to my dad's insistence on acknowledging the daylight, he looked at me and made sure to say 'you dry?' (which makes me KNOW he takes great joy and pride in holding the poor judgement of his son over his head in a wonderfully loving and sarcastic way). i would too. beware, future unfiltered son. i hold cards.
eventually, more stuff happened like scategories, puss'n boots, football games and internets. wonderful cousin time with mother's side of the family (actually a ridiculous joy (aside from the instinctual NEED for incessant song singing as a group, as the roehl family does so love), seeing cousins not seen in 4 years, bonding with ones that actually remember me, and being adult like with the uncle's and aunts). but in time... sunday morning came, and as i knew there was no way i could ever again sit through a sunday service at my g'ma's church (hey now, not bad, i was at her 80th birthday party and i didn't even make a SCENE like a GOOD grandson. do this to me 15 (lies. 10 (double lies. 5)) years ago and shit would have been disturbed), i once again early morning bailed and began the race with my 'rents to arrive in detroit first.
music from this section of road was mostly comprised of shuffle, and discovering which songs on the 'less highly anticipated than 3' punk goes pop 4 album were gold or shit. luckily, i've only deleted 4-5 songs from the ipod therefore dubbing at least 60% of the album bronze or better.
kms 1284-3078.
nd is devilishly beautiful at some points, and other times it is so similar to saskatchewan and montana, if you blindfolded me and through me from my vehicle, allowed me a nights rest and told me to awake and tell you where i was, i literally couldn't do it (try the same situation in another geographical context and I BET THE SAILOR i can figure out where i am). after having an actual chunk of sleep (lies again, i slept on the couch which turned into the floor which in turn gave me 2 COUNT IT 2 hours of legitimate life giving sleep) i felt primed and ready to tackle the roads ahead of me. i was now the proud owner a fiiiiiheiiiine new atlas, which was on the docket as a gift since last Christmas when i made a disgusted face at the shiny new gps i had been gifted. fresh pages of discover and knowing at all times where i am... sure, gps does the same thing. but it also tells me where to go, which is ABOMINABLE on trips of this caliber. we... do not get along. i'm a map guy. i like plotting and learning and observing. not following and waiting and watching. had i a gps, i wouldn't have zoned out and missed my turn to drive through minneapolis instead of above it, therefore not have discovered the dozens of towns that line st. paul with unusable highway speeds that constantly tease and probe the frustrations of my gas foot and cruise controls... experiences, right? global positioning system PAH. more like... gaining perspective sometimes...
the joy about this leg of the trip was the inevitable crossing of paths between me and my lovely DTS friend joseph foote. he was probably only an hour out of the way in the now super dark (and road-killy... good grief so much deer death (this one cop was in the middle of the highway with his lights on and direction arrow pointing 'defs not straight', and he was throwing bloodly chunks of SOMETHING off of the highway... it was like starfish beached on ... the beach. except it was something that used to be alive and was now in hundreds of pieces) wisconsin. wait... did i miss anything in the rest of nd or minnesota? .... no. i ate biscuits and gravy. with TWO fried eggs on top. that is the alexandria, minnesota gold plaque of experiences. also, i went to take a road nap then went NOPE no time, gotta have beer with joe! so beer we had. lovely to catch up, both with my bro AND buffalo wild wings. it had been too long my friend... joe told me i could crash at his place if he wanted, but i was all 'nah, i'm only an hour from chicago (what? 2ish? challenge accepted) therefore 7 hours from detroit... i think i'll be ok. and i was.. i got the wonderful chance to go through milwaukee en route TO chicago, and as much as i didn't want to just skiiiiiiiim the tip there was simply a faster freeway and i chose that instead. but chicago was a joy as always, and as i texted jef to brag it became late and indiana, and i knew i had to focus on the irritatingly familiar kms ahead. it snowed a bit, and in my attempt to cleanly wipe away the moisture from my vision my perfectly tied down window wiper fell askew, so i had to pull over and fix it. it was damned exciting.
eventually around 6am (oh time zones and changes... you always never (ha) fail to impress me with your inability to make me feel efficient (shakes fist towards the easternly direction)) i got into the predictably quiet grosse pointe and floundered my way into my parents home. once again as usual, i was bombarded by the intensely distinct smell of hoooome and i loved it and hugged max and super hugged my bed and slept very, very well. storybook well. father woke me up around 2 and allowed me to come run errands with him, motorcycle shiz and getting a new less but still crappy phone for my pockets... i decided i would meet with a few peeps but nothin big... coffee with clare, after bible study interaction with rach, joel and liz... and then sleep! the next was lauren, then with rach to karl and lizzie's, also with mccall. and then my big date on wednesday was ender's shadow, and that's IT. cuddles from max and reading. it was the best day EVERRRRRRRR. mexican with the 'rents for dinner, and early to bed for another 6 am departure.
the music that probably saved my life on this round was consistashuffle, where no choices beyond 'skip' were made because once i dive deep enough into a playlist, i feel like i've invested something and hopping out midway instead of seeing all 1590 songs through would destroy any sense of commitment i had left. though i will say i delighted eeeeeeverytime childish gambino, bring me the horizon, or mat kearney was on. i secretly vied for these options but would do nothing about it. typical? or withholdingly genius.
kms 3078-4858. (a projected 2 day, 4 hour trek. that's 52 hours! total driving time for me was 48 1/2 hours... but spread over 9 days and 4 hours. i have become mega OCD about numbers and remembering times... it's kinda out of control. i just have to know these things. is there an opposite phobia for measurement? i think i'll call it an affection for quantification.)
you know what happens when i go early to bed, before a knowledgeable road trip departure? i get into/stay in bed from midnight and slowly coax myself away from the internet and into lights out sleep mode, and then i don't sleep until 4:45 and wake right up at 5:30 for a shower. excessive sleep and travel do not prom date each other. the need for speed and efficiency prevails as headmaster and dean in the school of priorities. regardless of my capacity for sleep, i've found a wonderful joy in taking advantage on the black of morning and witnessing the first light of day creeping into my perfectly temperatured car. and ruining it... constantly making me go from 18 degrees to 18.5 degrees because 18.25 degrees is JUST TOO DEMANDING isn't it, nissan?! just jokes, i love the sun. allowing more people to spill onto the freeways and clog the arteries of my once dark and clean streets UNG day travel blows. not bitter. i just had to time it right because i needed to meet my lovely friend kristin for coffee and or tea in knoxville, tennessee! which is also a new secret to staying awake and not pulling over for a nap... if i need to be somewhere, i'll just get there! because not being there isn't an option. therefore: set a goal, and sleep will piss right off.
all gripes and special errands aside (i had to go to michigan state to drive david to class first. nooooo psych i had to pick up a djembe and bass guitar, THEN drive david to class), i was most looking forward to this part of the trip, because i had never been further south (on this side of this continent) then taylor university, indiana... which runs parallel on my route with wapakoneta, ohio. oh you KNOW exactly where that is. i do now, and everything south of there on the 75. so going past this point was the start of something exciting.. the unknown. the shroud of uncertainty cleared when i remembered cities are usually all pretty similar, and the only thing that would actually change in scenery was ... k nothing, but it got warmer. kinda... if it were day by the time i got that far south. BUT I HAD NEVER BEEN THERE BEFORE and that was important and STILL very exciting for the 'places i probably don't need to go again' checklist. BUFFOONERY, i'm positive there are gems everywhere i went. i just really desired my destination and didn't have time to seek them. i will say i quite enjoyed cincinatti the most, because it was big enough to FEEL like a big city, without the intimidation of manic crowds and overwhelming skyscrapers. and it was noon and the freeway cut right through the city so i could see everything. tea with kristin in knoxville was brief because she had to be on time for opening up a new chapter for family dinner (what whaaaaaaaat) but it was joyous to reconnect with yet another old friend and hear encouragement about life and the way God works.
after stealing precious internets from panera whilst parked in my car creepily, me and the dusk headed ourselves into georgia with no time based goals or expectations until our destination in crystal river. atlanta was pretty rad- i had to pee reeeeeaaaaAAAALLY bad so as soon as i found an inner city exit with 'you may relieve yourself here' confirmation signs, i hop skipped into the first gas station i saw... and perhaps i'm a closet racist steeped in assumption, or perhaps it actually was a less than admirable neighborhood, OR perhaps i just had to pee so bad my powers of observation and deduction were blurred by the insatiable need to urinate... but whatever the circumstance, i puffed up my chest, rolled up my sleeves to tattoo viewing length, and bought vitamin water like fiddy' would and i cruised out of there feeling like a well used literary device. probably a metaphor or alliteration or something. i was king of atlanta. until i needed gas and couldn't find anything cheaper than 3.39... a full 30 cents more expensive than the countryside boasted. bollox said i, and purchased a measly ten dollars so i could refill at a more financially convenient time. and the time came. and so did the need to acknowledge a developing curiosity.... since tennessee, or perhaps even KENTUCKY my eyes had been bombarded by blocks of yellow with black letters reading 'waffle house' at every since gas station exit, alongside the best of 'em like mcdonalds and arby's and even starbucks. it was time to find out what was UP (although it was poor luck because i had passed the chance to eat at a 'diners, drive-ins, and dives' restaurant that was now 40 miles behind me... because i wasn't hungry then... deeeeep regret). and what was up was 'what do you mean you've never been here before?' and a single waffle and two eggs. over easy, like bond would have them. to go? i guess so. and so i drove away from a perfectly sit-able establishment and 20 minutes later shadily parked behind a gas station and wolfed down a lukewarm waffle and eggs. and they were crack i tell you... something... druggy... about the deliciousness of that waffle. i ventured back out on track and wondered what this 'waffle house' was comparable too... i would guess it's reputation was as it's associated proximity to such corporations as mc's arbs and 'bucks... but i would not know until i boldly asked someone i knew. likely eric.
and the fact that i just wrote about waffles as the most exciting part of my drive makes me sad. the self induced expectation of southern ninjas battling me on the lower half of georgia INTO early dawn norther florida was not to come pass... instead i was convinced into sleep mode via eric logic, and crashed for a sleep chunk at a rest stop, and woke up to indulge the curiosity of what a hot waffle would taste like. i shit you not, those fleeting moments between when the waffle is scalding hot and rapidly transitioning from perfect to mediocre temperatures, were the single most meta-experience experiences i've ever had. because i was doing it because i was hungry, but i was doing it more so i could experience a cocaine waffle at it's peak perfection, and i was aware of what i was pursuing and SO observed myself observing it i didn't really notice what i ate. yeah it was pretty good. but truly nothing special because the best part about that experience was the predictable oh, surprise! banter of myself and the waitress about how i'm from canada and waffle houses aren't open 24-7 and that any inquisition about such establishments would be actual news to me therefore exciting to disclose. it was good times to be sure but good-er times lie aheadeth. i drove into the dawn and arrived safely (but not without frustration as assuming people are going to drive slow proved affirmative, although my reckless reaction to such admirable patience was less than acceptable *cough*swerveaccelerateswerve*cough*cometostoplight*cough* lowersheadinshaaaaaaaame..) at a sweeeeeeeet looking bungalow with a sexy silver ford taurus station wagon in the driveway. home baby! home.
now as this shuffle playlist came to it's close, i decided that yes, it's fully time to dive into what i want. and what i wanted was non-stop childish gambino, twice and a half, along with deep investments with the devil wears prada (dead throne), and a heavy HEAVY dose of the new remixed album stepped up and scratched, by asking alexandria. i danced so hard i got re-exhausted after getting so amped up. rookie dubstep/metal mistake.
crystal river, florida.
so... i'm here. and i'm pretty jacked. it reaaaaaaally reminds me of new zealand... smells like it, kinda sorta looks like it, and definitely FEELS like it (leaving all i know and coming to a foreign territory with very little expectation of what's about to happen.. and a bunk bed to boot). though i've got back up like eric, who's shown me all the wonderful surfaces i'm allowed to pillage and paint upon... the massive backyard in which we should probably fill with dozens of puppies... the hope of starting a pickup game of ultimate each saturday morning... as long as i network well and actually get some sales started, i think i could live here for awhile. if not, calgs here i come. my first five hours were filled with unpacking, half a game of frisbee golf, and constantly having the horrid realization that i'm an ignorant youth (noticing myself gasping on the inside EVERY time we walk into a new building or establishment and seeing the astounding number of old people). then we bailed and drove 5 more hours to miami where we met our buddy scott from california. will smith would be proud. miami is sweet. but crystal river seems pretty awesome thus far, so i am excited.
but i reaaaaaaaaaaaaaaally miss my dalhouse family. all ya'll. so keep prodding me to come back so i don't forget where i'm from.
fin. unlikely. no more holding it all in and releasing it like a latched up hose filled with water.
