Sleeping around

   I miss my trips to South Carolina and surrounding environs. Though in hopes of another sojourn this spring, it won't happen unless I can find a travel companion. Meanwhile, I shall attempt to amuse you, by recounting a previous adventure. Not all of the people I claim as family are blood kin and there are several I have not yet met in person. In many cases, geography decreases the probability of face to face encounters. Thankfully, the dear soul known to me as Brother is someone who has welcomed me into his life and has extended the hospitality of his home. My 2015 trip would have been nigh impossible, and not nearly so pleasurable, without him.

*****

December 2015
(Driving Miss Crazy)
Hi honey, did ya miss me?
   It has been over a month since my last letter to you: I've been away but now I shall bring you up to speed regarding recent adventures.
   On 22 November, 2015, Brother Eddie arrived in Michigan to whisk me away for Thanksgiving holiday, having spent previous day with other kinfolks along the way. I'm not altogether certain Eddie knew what he was in for when he opted to facilitate my adventure by uttering the words, "Road trip!" God bless him, he didn't bail on me; did not even falter. He arrived in Michigan to newly fallen snow, and was actually excited at the prospect of driving on it. Thankfully, roadways were clear and the only snow that Eddie's truck encountered was in Dad's driveway. Our original plan had been for him to come in Saturday evening and attend church with me on Sunday morning, as I was scheduled to read. Unfortunately, Whoever was in charge of clear travel conditions had apparently not gotten the memo. Reality: it snowed nearly all day Saturday, Eddie spent Saturday night in central Ohio and I did not go to church since A) road conditions were dodgy, and B) no one would have been around to let Eddie in if I had. So, he got here, we went to breakfast, made our goodbyes to Dad, and hit the road.
   Roadways had been cleared, giving us the luxury of enjoying glistening pristine beauty of snow-covered landscape. Daylight was eaten up as we made our blessedly uneventful way through Ohio and into West Virginia. What did surprise us was encountering three toll stations, at two dollars a pop. Fortunately, we had ready cash available, so the hurdle was not insurmountable. Got through Ohio and finally stopped for the night in Beckley, West Virginia. Had dinner in motel lounge. Back in the room, we plugged in our cellphones to charge, made our individual preparations for bed and took a little time to wind down. Shared a bit of free verse I had just written:

Cold town, warm beds

Children of the Great Brotherhood

walk their separate paths to Land of Dreams

This day they have covered a lot of ground

- and gone farther still in *miles* that cannot be measured

   Come morning, we realize clock on nightstand had not been reset to reflect time change, so we had another hour to wait for breakfast included in room rate. Brother used time to check in with social media but I was determined to abstain for the duration of my trip.
   Soon, staff could be observed making coffee and setting up dining area. Other travelers made their muzzy-headed way in to partake of the limited nourishment provided by processed foods. A goodly number of diners appeared to be college students, possibly an athletic team.
   After breakfast, we packed our bags, checked room for stray miscellany and checked out. Monday morning, having breakfasted before break of day, we found ourselves traveling in darkness, waiting for day to break over Blue Ridge Mountains. There was barely enough light to discern trees atop distant mountains. Of course, where there are mountains, there are also valleys. These were not just gentle slopes and dales, but veritable chasms. In the bottom of gorges were trees and it makes one's breath catch to realize how tall some of those trees must be.
   When driving an automobile without cruise control, it is important to find a pace car - which can also serve as decoy for highway patrol. We picked a presumably unsuspecting motorist with Quebec plates. Saw a sign which read, Speed enforced by air, which made me think of my "grammar nazi" friends who would no doubt insist - and rightly so - "Monitored, not enforced." Later in my trip, watched a news broadcast and heard, "*Be a cannibal* for your vehicle" which serves to demonstrate the importance of good diction, because what the speaker obviously said was, "Be accountable for your vehicle."
   At some point, one must cross the mountains, if one's destination lies beyond them. Our route took us through the East River and Big Walker Tunnels. Emerging, we noted Sun bathed top of trees, leaving three-fourths of the hillside in violet shadow; purple mountain majesty.
   Early sun highlighted glistening black rock, damp from seeping springs, which will dry as winter deepens. For now, icicles glint in daylight, delighting the eye. One glimpses red oak leaves, looking for all the world like stained glass.
   As one traverses mountain ranges, one notes grooves cut into Earth by gigantic mechanical maws which have left *teeth marks,* a testament to determination to get beyond obstacles. Different colors and textures indicate various mineral deposits. I was amused by a formation that resembled monstrous toes and thought of various "henge" monuments. As we proceeded southeastward, pinkness increased on eastern horizon and one lone star remained visible in western sky. People have an unfortunate habit of making their presence apparent by littering the landscape in greater and lesser ways. In two days of travel we saw at least three abandoned vehicles and I couldn't help thinking those orange stickers are like toe-tags for cars. A few states down the road, we stopped for lunch and I had to remember to specify unsweetened tea if I did not want to find myself trying to gag down a glass of treacle. Midday Monday brought us into central South Carolina, where I would make my home for most of the next three weeks.
   One of the household denizens was less than enthusiastic in her welcome: Lily, a Pug, groused at me every time I moved. I believe it was because I upset the balance of her world and she viewed me as an interloper. We maintained an *armed truce* for the duration of my stay.
   Saturday after Thanksgiving, Brother took me to Charlotte, North Carolina, where I was delivered into the safekeeping of a former classmate for a few days. Surrounded by Great Smoky Mountains, I slept well, nestled under handmade quilts.While on a brief sightseeing excursion, established contact with outside world. This excitement was eclipsed by awe at the heartiness of those who had long ago settled the region, and knowledge I would have proved unworthy - since I do well to cope even with modern conveniences. Wednesday after Thanksgiving, left scenic Smokies and returned to South Carolina; while being taken to rendezvous with Eddie, was surprised to hear cellphone buzz - it was registering several messages which had come in while I was out of range. My time in North Carolina was marred by incessant rain and, for most of my time there, an absence of cellphone reception but the scenery was nothing short of phenomenal. The company, both human and feline, was exceptional too. There is a chain of grocery stores called "ingles" which my mind perceived as inglés, which is Spanish for "English." What can I say? - I am easily amused.  
   Friday, 4 December, met people at bowling alley in Cayce, then I checked into Columbia, SC hotel.   Next driver was a Facebook friend, originally from Michigan, whom I met in Columbia, SC. We trusted modern technology to get us to Lake Manning, then to an address which I recalled from writing several letters. D and I celebrated our weekend by sharing a humongous burger called The Widow-maker: four quarter-pound beef patties, four slices of cheese, and four strips of bacon. This was accompanied by a large salad and red wine, which we hoped would minimize the threat posed by all that cholesterol. Next day, met another correspondent and we had a blast. After a leisurely lunch, we went for a drive and made an impromptu visit to a friend who climbed down from fixing the roof and welcomed us into his home - which, by the way, we found because I recalled his address from writing to him. Sunday, went to a potluck, where I was traded back to Eddie.
   It's a darn good thing I am not underage, because Eddie transported me across numerous state lines during the course of my visit. Anyway, planning to meet friends for dinner, we were instructed to rendezvous at Plum, on Bay Street. Arriving at that establishment, we found dark windows and a sign the place was closed that evening. I stayed in the truck, texting the other party, while Eddie asked a passerby to suggest a place for dinner. Walking to the suggested place, he learned they were closed to public that evening - for Plum's Christmas party. We gathered elsewhere and spent an enjoyable time together. As we went our separate ways, I informed the group the chronicle of my adventures would be titled, "Driving Miss Crazy," which seemed apt.
   Monday, the planets must have come into fortuitous alignment and I was able to meet a Calhoun County official, plus spend time with a friend whom it had begun to look like I would not get to see this trip. Tuesday night found me back in Columbia area, where I gladly spent remainder of the week.
   My time in the South was winding down and I had one more Facebook friend to meet for the very first time.    On 13 December, made notation that wine before 11 A.M. was probably not my most brilliant move ever, but consequences were apparently not dire, so presume neither was it my worst. Second Monday of December, made interim stop in Virginia. Here I met Susan, another Facebook friend, and lodged two nights. We attended a library Christmas party, then stopped at a winery on our way back to the house.
   Wednesday morning Susan made a hearty breakfast, before schlepping me to Charlottesville to catch a commuter train to Washington, D.C. My seatmate during the two-hour trip was a second-year college student whose major is environmental sciences. Good conversationalist. Got her address and shall write to her.Spent two nights in Virgina. Then, on a frosty Wednesday morning, hugged my friend and boarded a commuter train, which would take me to Union Station in District of Columbia.
   Got into the station and had a text message from someone I met in college. As I stepped through the door, four decades evaporated and we recognized each other in an instant. Spent a couple hours reminiscing and talking about what we had done during intervening years. Then it was time for her to return home so she could avoid District rush hour.
   Train 29, from Washington to Chicago departed from Track 15 at 4:05 p.m. Eastern Standard Time. At last, home stretch began and, amazingly, train got in on time, arriving in Toledo, Ohio 5:08 a.m. of 17 December - earlier than I had expected. Last year, had experienced significant delay on return trip, so had told driver not to come until 8:00 a.m. Why should he get up in the middle of the night if he didn't have to? Once I got into Toledo station, phoned him, notifying him of timely arrival. He showed up and had me home by 8:01a.m.(EST), Thursday, 17 December. As he was taking me home, I was glad we were headed westward and not into rising sun. My stomach growled and I thought longingly of the sausage and egg breakfast, consumed less than twenty-four hours previously but which seemed eons ago.
   Showered and dressed to attend Tecumseh Senior Center Christmas party: had already told friends I'd have to 'hit the ground running' upon my return. Just so you know, title for this piece came from the twenty-five nights I slept in a bed other than my own. Sorry to disappoint.

   If you ever decide to "go crazy" make sure you get a good driver and be sure to take the scenic route.