DC as a destination

This weekend I drove out of DC for the first time since my trip. I was headed once again up to Philly, and while I've seen this particular stretch of I-95 many times, I think I appreciated it more than I have in the past. Before I left, I focused on the humidity of the area, the lack of stunning landscape. But really, the tree-covered rolling hills are beautiful, especially with the fog that seems always to be covering them. And the rivers (Potomac, Deleware, Susquehanna) are still and peaceful, but still incredibly powerful. The humidity can even be comforting (it is at least familiar).

Last Thursday at sunset I sat with a book between the monuments and the Potomac. I loved DC very much at that moment: so much activity around me, and an equal balance of natural and man-made beauty. For all the angst of settling here again, my trip changed the way I saw this city and this area much for the better.

This might be my last post; who knows. I'm sure my readership has dwindled to almost nothing, but I still feel the need to inch towards closure in this blog!

Lonely

I expected to feel pretty lonely on the road during my trip. I didn't: I was always looking forward to seeing someone, and inevitably had good conversation and a relaxing evening. I was spoiled because my friends knew I had driven out to see them, and they made time accordingly.

I'm lonely in DC. That's completely unexpected, which probably makes it even harder. I feel like I'm trying to fit myself back into people's lives, and also feel like whatever hole I left when I drove away in June filled quickly. Instead of anyone taking an evening off just to chat, I've spent hours trying to "coordinate schedules" and fit time in with people. Frankly, it feels miserable at times.

Did that really happen?

I doubt anyone's still reading this, but I don't think my trip actually happened. I think I've always been sitting around the house looking for internships, reading, or watching sports...all summer long, and the trip was a dream. I was expecting that it would seem like another world, but not that it would seem never to have happened.

Several years ago I took a solo bike trip which I have since romanticized and remember it as awesome, even though I was miserable much of the time. This is different-- this trip was glowingly, barely-describably wonderful for all but a few moments or hours here and there. And I can hardly think about it because it brings up the contrast to how things are now. It's like walking into a dim house after being out in bright sunlight; the house can be beautiful, but the contrast blinds you to it for awhile. There must be something beautiful about routine, about the calm of being settled. I just can't see it now.

Adjusting

OK, it's an adjustment to be back here. I think the major change is the feeling that I don't have complete control over who I see, where I go, or what I do. I have to wait for companies to call me back if I want to get hired! I can only see friends when they're not working or otherwise occupied! I even have to schedule time to see people! I have to sit in traffic! I can't walk around outside in my PJ's! (scratch that-- I did it yesterday) If I don't like a situation for some reason, I can't just leave town.

On the other hand, I drive 15 minutes to see people, rather than 8 hours. I've slept in the same bed for a week-- and it's a bed not a sleeping bag! I actually run into people I know! If I can't see DC friends this week, I can see them next week! I can eat a variety of refridgerated and even frozen food!

I dunno. It's an adjustment.

Back in DC

...and I can hardly believe it's been 2 months, a nearly perfect 2 months. Somewhere along the way, concepts like Time and Home lost their meaning, and the question "what do you do?" signaled the start of a somewhat philisophical conversation. When I quit my job I had the sense that the summer wasn't an abberation but the beginning of a lifestyle, and I feel that even more strongly now.

Someday I'd like to call a place-- not just a town or city, but a specific building, Home. Now, however, things like rent checks and furniture and accumulation of any sort seem distasteful in a way. I hope I have learned to hold tightly to the important things, just as I've learned to let go of the inconsequential.

Introspection aside, here's a wrapup of the trip.
Miles driven: almost 10,000 (average miles per gallon: somewhere around 48, best in the mountains and worst on the flat stretches)
Total trip time: 2 months, 2 days
New car name: Quark
New CDs acquired: approximately 30
Number of states visited that I'd be happy to live in: 7
Nights spent scared out of my mind (for ridiculous reasons): 2
New beers to recommend: Alaskan Ale, Fat Tire, Moose Drool
My only regret: not having my bike
Item I'd like never to see again: my green pants
Item I didn't miss a bit: blow dryer
What I'll miss: waking up in a tent, wearing a sweater in the summer, constant time outdoors, hostel lounges, fresh roadsite/farm/orchard fruit, friends' couches and porches...on and on

By the way, I keep meaning to say this-- if I saw you on this trip and didn't write about it on the blog, don't be offended! You'll notice I didn't really write about anybody. Half the people reading this know you and half don't have a clue who you are. We had a fantastic time, but it's hard to describe it for an audience. Thanks for your hospitality and for spending time with me-- seeing friends really made the trip.

I'm not sure what'll happen to my blogging habit now. I will probably continue to mull over the trip online, but don't feel the need to subject yourself. You all are wonderful for keeping up with me! Like I said, friends made the trip-- in person, over the phone, or email.

Chicago's Millenium Park

Chicago just built a huge park downtown near the Art Institute.  According to the Tribune, it's "late and over budget, but nobody seems to care."  The park features an outdoor amphitheater, gardens, huge walls of water that kids and some adults play in (ooh, I wanted to play in it), and-- my favorite-- the Bean, a kidney-bean shaped sculpture (or Tiffany neckace-shaped sculpture) that reflects the entire city. 

The Bean and the city! (I didn't take this picture, I found it on the Web)

Taking pictures in the Bean was a fun challenge. Here's my brother and I.  

Waterton National Park, Canada

Funniest campsite ever: there were tents at each picnic table (very close together) and groundhogs (or gophers? Can someone tell me the difference?) in their little hills between the tents. They were very friendly groundhogs. Also see the RV park behind the groundhog park. I was not camping in the wilderness at this point.  

Jasper National Park, Canada

Can you see how the rocks just cave into each other, and there's a waterfall at the fault?