Day 1 of 3

Day 1 of 3

                After watching Sam walk his bike across George Washington Bridge, I turned up the music.  Now it was time to get going.  Let the trip officially begin.  A rough list of the things we carried in my car:

                -tent

                -air mattress

                -box of Clif bars.

                -pack of Campbell’s soup Chicken Noodle flavor from CostCo

                -My multiple bags (messenger bag, laptop carrying case, duffel bag housing the Ghost, high school backpack colored blue from Eddie Bauer, medium-sized rolling suitcase on its last legs, small size Nike sports bag that I won in a 5K race for raising over $250.00 (money almost entirely from my parents as I recall).

                -laundry basket

                -dishware/cookware

                -crank-up lantern

                -Sam and Kelly’s tent

                -1 pound of Dunkin Donuts coffee grounds

                -Snake bite kit

                -Facial mirror

                -My camcorder

                -Sam’s camera

                -Three old shoeboxes of my letters

                -Alec’s cooler (that I had all summer and forgot to give back to him in Nashville)

                -Small blue plush Krazy Kreek chair that sits on the ground.

                -Stand-up green Eddie Bauer camping chair with cup-holder

                -carton of Camel Turkish Gold cigarettes

                -Absente (imitation Absinthe), irregularly –utilized handle of Popov vodka, Jim Beam whiskey, Bacardi Rum, sugar cubes and fancy instrument for holding Absente-soaked sugar cubes for lighting on fire over glass.

                -Laundry detergent and dryer sheets.

                We got lost somewhere on the New Jersey turnpike.  They got off on an exit that I didn’t know we were taking, and then I turned around to exit on the ramp they had earlier, and then I got a call from them saying they had taken the wrong exit, and had to turn around.  I thought I knew the path we were taking, but I wanted to follow them to make sure we didn’t get separated.  I think this happened again later in the same day near the end of the leg of the journey in Pennsylvania.

                I remember stopping with them at one lone outpost along the highway.  There were two other bikers there and Sam walked over to them and started chatting about their bikes.  This seemed to me like an acknowledged code amongst bikers.  You automatically had someone to talk to based on your shared method of transportation.  You shared part of the same culture that was generally removed from all other mainstream aspects to life.  You either rode a motorcycle or rode in a car.  If you rode a motorcycle you were part of the mystic chain of bikers. 

                There were many random knick-knacks at the outpost.  They did not sell guns but it looked like the type of place many people with guns shopped.  Sam and Kelly bought a snack there.  We decided to spend the night in Harrisburg.  And then we got back on the road. 

                When we got off at a particular Harrisburg exit just past Hershey Park, there were a couple hotels to choose from.  First, we had to stop at a Harley Davidson store, where Sam bought a rain guard for his bike, an outdoor tarp for its protection.  We stopped at a drive-thru bank there, and I still had the receipt for that ATM visit in my car up until a few days ago when I threw it out.

                We went to a Holday Inn Express and they told me they had limited rooms and it would cost about $175 for a night there.  I was not going to pay that much for a room in Harrisburg.  We found a motel that looked like it might be in some level of disrepair.  A room was $55 or $60 a night there.  We took it.  It was definitely one of the most bottom-of-the-line places I stayed.  But it served its function.                            

                That night I talked to my sister Meredith on the phone.  She told me I had to go back to Chicago.  She was moving to Boston that weekend (it was a Thursday night, August 28)—her friend Karen had flown into Chicago so they could drive my sister’s car together over the weekend and arrive in the city on Monday, because Karen had work.  This meant my sister wanted me to drive straight from Harrisburg to Chicago the next day, so that I could drive my sister Emma to school, and take care of the pets.  I told her there was no way I was going to do this and she flipped out at me on the phone and started crying.  After her my friend Brian called and told me he saw the story about my brother on the front page of the Tribune.  My friend (or perhaps former friend, but we’ll find out later) Jill called to make sure that Michael was okay, showing some genuine concern after another one of our typically ambivalent conversations on our cell phones. 

                We went to sleep and I remember watching some of the HBO Series Big Love from our beds after we had watched a somewhat embarrassing episode of “Real Sex”—which featured a group of masturbation enthusiasts.  One of the guys in the group talked about how he jerked off every morning and how it was just the jolt of energy he needed in order to get his day started.  For some reason this struck me as a very odd thing to be talking about on TV. 

                The next day my Dad called me and told me that I was making a huge mistake, and that I should just cut my road trip short.  I asked him if I could go to Chicago, and take Sam and Kelly with me, and allow them to stay at our house while we waited for the situation to get sorted out.  He said that would absolutely not be possible.  He didn’t want these two random kids around during a familial tragedy of this degree.  I told him that I didn’t have any choice but to keep going with them.  I wasn’t going to abandon them.  He told me I was making a huge mistake.