Chicago.
I woke up to the bustling sound of the south side of Chicago. Boss and I arrived the night before and It had been a long time since we had stayed in a real city. In fact, Portland, Oregon was the last big one and the car had been broken into, with $3000 worth of gear stolen. My idealistic fantasy that the US is filled with nothing but good people was shattered. And now we were on the south side of Chicago, notorious for its crime, so I was already nervous.
It has been weeks since I have been able to put anything down on paper.
From San Francisco, we had driven up through California, bouncing back and forth from the coast to the mountains as we worked our way up to the Redwoods. From there, Oregon, a beautiful state with the nicest people and strangest laws (for example, it is illegal to pump your own gas). We arrived in Portland and the car got broken into, but after getting it fixed, we still pressed on.
Oregon turned into Washington and we moved from forest to forest camping out on a different river each night; my hammock hanging from a different tree. Chicken and broccoli for dinner. Coffee in the morning. A sandwich here. A sandwich there. It had become routine. It had become life. Every day we just pressed on a little further, spending most days gazing at the passing scenery, in awe of the beauty of this nation.
We reached the border and turned east. Across Washington the forests melted into plains. Idaho, Montana, Wyoming. Everything started to look the same to me. I had forgotten what day of the week it was. I had forgotten what month it was. I had forgotten what state we were in. All I knew is to keep pointing the car east and go a little further each day. We would get through this, no matter how long it takes.
Wyoming turned into South Dakota. South Dakota into Minnesota. Then Iowa. Then Wisconsin. The days were long and the nights were short. Boss slept in the car and I listened to the same music as the day before; I rarely had cell service. We drove for almost eight thousand miles since San Francisco to get to Chicago.
We have had good days and bad ones. We’ve camped in pouring rain and burning sun. We’ve run from bears, chased after deer and fought off raccoons. We have hiked mountains, kayaked rivers and swam in lakes. We have slowly become a part of the road, two vagabonds at one with this infinite stretch of asphalt that keeps going.
But Chicago brought us back to reality. A big city, with its millions of people, its rich history and culture, its indoor plumbing—all so foreign to us after being lost in nature for over a month. But I sure have a lot of stories to tell.