Manifest Destiny: America from the Bottom Up - 36 - Washington, MO - Touching Base

The Author with New Specs on the Day this was Written

Sorry I have been so silent the last few days. RhonnaLeigh doesn't have internet and we have been doing some traveling around the state.

Not much to report on the adventure aspect, since this has been a bit of a vacation. I will say that MO is a gorgeous state, and I have a real and lasting appreciation for the land. It is VAST for a Mainer like me. Beautiful rolling hills, Mennonite carriages, thousands upon thousands of dairy, beef, pig and turkey farms.

I visited RhonnaLeigh's tract of land yesterday in Western MO (23 acres) and have been hugely inspired by its woods, fields and small stream, to get myself a piece of land in Maine. The afternoon sun - even with a chill in the air - was golden and lit up the grasses and tree trunks, making it almost look like late summer.

RhonnaLeigh's Homsteading Land

The grass stays green here, and flowers don't die like they do in Maine over the winter. Yes there is occasional snow and the temps dip below freezing every now and then at night, but it is a kind of "refrigerator" more than a "freezer."

The people of the Midwest are polite even when they don't want to be, and my Maine tendency to be direct must be muffled a bit. Nothing is said directly here. That behavior is nice but a bit fluffy for a battle-hardened Yankee.

It is the eve of the second half of the land voyage, and I'm feeling both ready to go and sad to be leaving my friend. Tomorrow I head back out for an entirely new experience for me...the Southwest journey.

Up until this time I have dealt with environments that I'm used to. But soon comes the desert. Traveling in any way besides walking occasionally simply wouldn't give the experience I have sought. Yes, there will be trains and buses, maybe the odd ride from a stranger or friend, but I aim to be part of the environment, just as I was in New England--at least for as long as I can endure it. My next visit with a friend (overnight, etc.) with be in Ramah, NM.

The updated plan for this next leg of the sojourn will be a southward trek into Arkansas, then westward into Texas (across the top of the state), then New Mexico.

I have carefully considered different routes of getting there, and was not enthusiast about marching across Kansas, nor Oklahoma--though it would have brought me nearer to Colorado which, for a person of my 420 inclinations, might have been a historic kind visit. But, no, I'll have to wait and hit those far Northwestern states sometime in the next few months after California is achieved to see the new culture that will eventually be national.

Honestly, I am feeling slightly anxious about stepping off the metaphorical cliff again, especially after being so spoiled by RhonnaLeigh. There have been delicious meals, spirited discussions, a healthy amount of beer, wines, some martinis and my new favorite: cachaça (a Brazilian kind of whiskey-esque liquor).

I was afraid that this good living might soften me, making the harshness of what I'm about to face all the more difficult. But I am instead looking forward to the challenge of readjusting to the roadside. It is more the domestic comfort-draw of "normal" living (in a house, with a bed, good meals and intelligent conversation) that my ID (in the Freudian sense) that doesn't want me to leave. But I know I must be moving on... So it is what is...

I've missed communing with you all and I've missed the feeling of not knowing what's around the next corner. I also feel a bit guilty for not "being about my business." This journey is my JOB. It is not meant for enjoying large periods of pleasure and relaxation.

I must EARN more, and only adventure and writing about it, not to mention catching up with the growing deficit of time that is developing since my New England activities that bothers my sensibilities. I will catch it (the writing) up at some point.

I have much to say about the current events in this state (Ferguson-wise), though they haven't touched me personally in the little town (Washington) where I currently am. IT is a sheltered place of quiet streets and local high school marching band practices, not racial strife and political unrest.

So, anyway, I thank you guys for your patience. And, if you are beginning to lose that patience, I ask that you hold on for just a couple more days until the beauty of the chaos returns and we can all "click, click, click...scrape" along together, deeper into the Our America.