Books, Music, People

“Traveling solo does not always mean you’re alone. Most often, you meet marvelous people along the way and make connections that last a lifetime.”

Jacqueline Boone

Last winter, I read Travels with Charley by John Steinbeck, which catapulted my solo road trip idea into reality. Before Steinbeck began his travels, he thought his truck camper needed a name that represented his impending adventure. He decided on Rocinante after Don Quixote’s horse who was awkward and past his prime. For obvious reason, I have likewise named my trailer – Rosie, for short. As I began my first few miles eastward, Steinbeck’s words were with me. I felt his trepidation and his excitement. As I continued traveling this first week, folks have been amazed that I have chosen to travel all summer alone. What so many do not understand is that I have many companions as I traverse the northeastern quarter of the country – some new, some old, some foreign, some familiar. Let me introduce you to those I’ve met along the way.

Books and the characters within have a keen way of becoming part of us. The first book I read along the trip was Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens. The story takes place in rural North Carolina and follows an abandoned young girl’s life alone from age six to her mid-twenties. Kya Clark, also referred to as Swamp Girl, not only survived alone but thrived. I encourage you to read the novel, as it is a well-written, captivating story of love and survival. Kya is now a part of my journey this summer – if she could do what she did as a little girl, there is nothing stopping me!

I just finished reading The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. I understand why the book was considered a failure upon first publishing, as well as why it is included as mandatory reading in high school curricula. The theme of the American dream and the symbolism throughout the novel make it ripe to teach to young readers. Fresh in my mind, Jay and Nick and Daisy specifically have been traveling along with me as I contemplate how my ideals of the American dream have been developed and altered throughout my half-century of life.

Music has always been my greatest companion when on my own, so much so that the artists seem almost like pals. My music companions range from my standard John Denver, Queen, Casting Crowns, and Taylor Swift to classical piano and nature sounds. Music reminds me of my childhood, my children’s childhoods, national park road trips, and vacations to Colorado. I have a playlist for the long airplane rides to Europe and Australia. Music encourages me to sing at the top of my lungs but doesn’t judge my inability to reach the high notes. Music can also induce tears but doesn’t ask because it knows. When alone, music is a true companion.

People have been popping in and out of this adventure. Two women tent camping on their way to a dog show knocked on my car window and asked for a tour of the camper. I obliged, so likewise I inquired about their prized canines. The women introduced their dogs but neglected to introduce themselves. The West Highland White Terriers were named Fiona and Sable. As I travel, I think about the dogs and the companionship they bring to the women.

Norma and her husband owned the campground in Montrose, Illinois. She went to Colorado last summer with five other couples, something she warned me against. “When we actually got to Estes Park, all they wanted to do was take a picture by the sign and not go in.” She loved Colorado but is having heart troubles, so she needs to figure that out before she goes back to the high altitude. Although she said she would never travel with five other couples again, she cannot believe that I would travel alone. She assured me that the campground was safe. I hope she makes it back to Colorado soon.

I spent four days in Canton, Ohio, with my daughter, Sarah Grace. We fully furnished her apartment with secondhand items, hung her original pieces of art from all over the world, and giggled a lot. On my way out of town, I stopped by her work and toured The National First Ladies National Historic Site. She has a great job. She, too, is questioned about being alone so far from her home – she insists it’s all for the adventure. That’s my girl!

Saturday morning, as I was packing up the trailer in front of Sarah’s house, a shirtless man wearing a prosthetic leg introduced himself as Robert, although everyone calls him Bobby. Approximately my age, Bobby served briefly in the military, has four vehicles including a motorcycle, is also single (not sure why he had to add that), and just bought a chocolate lab puppy. I thought of my own dog, Abby, and wondered for a split second if I’d ever get another dog after she’s gone. Nonetheless, Bobby explained the goings-on within the neighborhood and assured me that Sarah will be well looked after.

When I arrived on the shores of Lake Erie in New York, I waited for about 30 minutes for the campground office personnel to arrive to take my payment for the night. Two evenings prior, there was a large waterspout (water tornado) that ripped through the campground causing a lot of damage. A woman dressed all in purple walked up the hill and over to where I was waiting. She said the owners were down cutting limbs and that I should just go ahead and park, although there was a sign prohibiting such and she had just arrived the day before and had no authority to invite guests into the campground. In the next few minutes, Bonnie (the name embroidered on her jacket) invited me to park next to her husband Ed. She summarized all the places they’ve visited – including Colorado last summer when it was 107 degrees! I suggested that I wait for the management to assign me a camping site when Bonnie exclaimed, “Holy Hannah to high heavens, just follow me, Darlin’!” So, I did. About an hour later, Danielle knocked on my camper door.

Danielle is a young woman in her late 20s who manages the campground and works as a teacher’s aid for BOCES. She is also the primary caregiver for her grandmother. She wanted a tour of my trailer and said she also backpacked solo a few years ago in the Catskills. She wore a genuine smile and exhibited youthful energy that is evident through her numerous responsibilities. I’m very proud of Danielle, and I just met her. She, and all the others I’ve met, will come along with me on this journey. I may be traveling solo, but I am surely not alone because of the books I am reading, the music I enjoy, and the people I will continue to meet.

Lake Erie near Westfield, New York