choses #7: 3/95

Bon Travail

I admit it. I was born to travel. Maybe my mom and dad conceived me in the back seat of their roadster during the Fall of '46, must have been September. Anyway, for whatever reason, I am usually happiest when I am moving.

A good friend's 19 year old son called me a few weeks ago, said he had the itch to get out and see the country, and asked if I had any suggestions on how best to do it. We talked and I gave him an idea or two. We both mentioned hitch-hiking, he knows I have some experience in that arena too, but I lamented the fact that in 1994, in this country, there is no way I can recommend to someone else's kid that he throw a backpack and sleeping bag on his back and get his thumb wet, so to speak. My own son, absolutely, I think I still would recommend such an experience, but not somebody else's kid. Too bad, too.

Now it seems like riding interstate buses has almost as bad a reputation. That's a shame also. The memory of my first few stopovers in New York City's Port Authority Terminal are a little fuzzy but I do recall that it was a wee-bit intimidating. A fast way to learn about people, though, all sorts of people. It still is. As recently as two years ago, I took an extended Greyhound trip from KC to Washington, Philly, NYC, Boston, Ithaca and back, and, for the most part, enjoyed it. There's certainly no denying, however, that Greyhound, being the corporate takeover giant that they are, have hurt themselves by pricing themselves right out of the market. Give me a choice between a bus and a plane and then tell me that the latter is less expensive and guess which way I will usually go.

Of course, it is incredibly stupid and shortsighted that we as a nation of travelers have also let travel by rail disintegrate to the point that it cannot/will not recover in our lifetime. Luckily, I have spent enough time within the "northeastern corridor" to appreciate train travel in this country but, west of Philadelphia, forget it. And Amtrak is not much to brag about to our European friends either. Hell, I've been in third world countries which have better passenger train systems than the U.S.

But start comparing road systems and highways, compare our access to travel by auto to anybody else's, and we win hands down, even at 55 m.p.h. The frightening aspect of this fact is our ever growing dependency on it as an everyday part of our lives. The car makers, in bed with oil diggers and cartels everywhere, have (pardon the expression) driven us to the brink of some colossal environmental nightmares and, along the way, sucked this economy nearly dry.

I'm not quite as dumb as I look, though, as I learned early on in my travels that if one was truly born to keep movin' on, one better be ready to fly --- and like it. The hassles of airplane transportation are many: just getting to some airports can take longer than your ensuing flight will; the lines, the security checks (especially internationally); customs and immigration; and the food (or, now, the lack thereof)! But, most days, it's the only logical way to go.

I am a very happy man when I can get on a a plane here in god's country and, a few hours later, be sitting at a bar in Medford, Las Vegas or Boston, let alone Amsterdam, Lomé, or Bangkok. What a concept. Big planes, little ones, the only ones I have not yet tried are the ones that you see pictures of landing on water. Like in Alaska or somewhere. I want to do that too.

A map of the world hangs on the wall above this desk and the road atlas is just to the right, at my fingertips, as I ponder upcoming trips. A road trip east in September, maybe 3,000 miles or so, followed by three work-related (i.e. paid) trips between October and March to the Philippines, India and Guatemala. On the trip to Calcutta next Spring, which takes me through Bangkok, I also hope to take a personal detour over to Phnom Penh, Cambodia where good buddy Lou O'Brien is currently working.

One of my worst faults is that I still, sometimes, get in a hurry. I smile, though, wondering if one of the reasons that I am in a hurry is that I can't wait for this roadtrip to end so that I can begin planning the next one. There is so much left to see and feel. Hope to see many of you somewhere along the route soon. Peace.

John Elmer
8/15/94