Let's Start at the Very Beginning.

Here's those emails I wrote from the road, all in a row.

# 1 – Don’t Fence Me In.

Hello friends -

A few years ago, when I got a car, I discovered how a nice long, scenic drive could clear my head. Not the most ecologically sensitive meditation method, but it worked for me. I'm coming to the end of a chapter here, with grad school over, internship finished, and summer Shakespeare coming to a close, so I'm going to take my time returning to NYC and drive around the country for a little bit first.

The route is: (roughly, and subject to change)
Leg 1. Normal, IL (home of the Illinois Shakespeare Festival and my current location), to Milwaukee, through Minnesota and South Dakota to Wyoming.
Leg 2. From Yellowstone through Idaho and Oregon to Portland, then down the coast of Oregon, continuing to San Francisco.
Leg 3. From San Francisco through Nevada, Utah, Arizona and New Mexico to San Antonio. Then onto Houston and New Orleans.
Leg 4. From New Orleans, through the south and the mountains up the east coast and back to NYC.

Really, I'm just travelling around the perimeter of the country -- ending up back east by taking the longest possible route. I am skipping the Midwest. I have spent enough time here, thank you very much. Milwaukee, Wyoming, Portland, San Francisco, San Antonio, and Houston are all scheduled stops where I've got people to stay with. Otherwise, I'm camping or staying in motels, so I can take whatever path or detour appeals to me.

Do you have suggestions? I am particularly interested in hot springs, local specialties, back roads, swimming in lakes, and things you personally love to see and do. Are there campgrounds and parks that you adore? Little towns that are good to stop in? Routes to avoid or seek out?

And if, by chance, you are anywhere nearby where it seems like I might be, let me know and I'll drive on over to meet you.

I'll keep you posted on adventures and other excitement from the road -- I'll have my laptop with me and might have it in me to send an update or two along the way. And by all means, give me a call starting on August 13th -- more than likely, I'll be in the car with nothing but time to talk.

Hope you're well -- I'll be back in NYC in mid-September for about a month before I leave for a gig in Milwaukee. If you're in New York, I'd love to see you then and there.

xo
Elizabeth







#2 – Wide Open Spaces





News from the road:

Odometer: 2672.
current location: Ontario, OR.
Number of speeding tickets: 0
Number of times stopped for speeding: 1 (Damn you, Idaho State Police)
Least favorite state: Idaho
Most favorite state: Wyoming, although Oregon is looking pretty good so far.
Most recent significant purchase: Bear deterrent spray ($39.95)
Most harrowing experience: "sleeping" in Yellowstone, with said bear
spray in hand.
Condition of left arm: fairly sunburned.
Hot springs visited: 3
Most desired device for the road: something that will simultaneously
charge my cell phone, computer, ipod, and camera from the cigarette
lighter in the car. Which is to say, an iPhone.
Best bands in the world: The Beatles, U2, Journey.

More soon. On to Portland.

Send me your address if you'd like a postcard, please.

xo
Elizabeth

P.S. I'm happy to report that Americans are friendly, smart, interesting people. Even in places like Idaho. When I'm asked where I'm from, I tell people "New York City" (the real story is too complicated), and while I brace myself for whatever reaction that might engender, the overwhelming response is. "That's an expensive place to live, isn't it? Isn't it hard to make a living there?"





# 3 – Taking the Long Way Around





4165 miles. I'm overdue for an oil change. I'm in San Francisco now, on my way out tomorrow.

Guys, I'm a little tired -- physically, mentally, spiritually, emotionally. There's a muscle in the back of my right leg that hurts a little when I push the gas or the brake. I long for cruise control. I recently heard a story on NPR about how blood clots in your legs can develop from sitting still too long, and can kill you without warning. Briefly considered buying "compression tights," but I can't bear to drive in a spandex suit, even if it means I lower my risk of pulmonary embolism.

It's a little harder than I thought to be on the move all the time.
It's not that it's that difficult to be transitory, or be by myself, or make it up as I go along -- but it's become increasingly clear how deeply hardwired I am to just get to the end, tough it out, push through, make it happen. So this aimless wandering I've set out for myself is a bit of an internal struggle, and I have to remind myself frequently that the drive is not just the means to the trip – the drive actually is the majority of the trip. It's hard, it's infuriating, it's fascinating and glorious and I think there's something interesting on the other side of this struggle -- which is what prevents me from tearing straight across the middle of the country and landing in New York in 3 days. Besides, I ask myself, what would I do when I got there? Generate income? Pish. Self discovery is much harder to come by than cash.

I'm heading southwest now for a long stretch -- about 2 weeks before I land with family in San Antonio. This is a long time on the road -- and yet, I have to get back east eventually, so I might as well take the scenic route, yes?

Since last we met, I wound my way through the Coumbia River Gorge, to Portland, down the Oregon Coast, inland to Ashland and Crater Lake, back out through the Redwoods, down Route 1 to Mendocino and landed this weekend in San Francisco, where I've been eating and drinking and bathing and using electricity like mad.

The next part of the trip goes roughly like this: Head east (east! east and south!) to Yosemite, through Nevada and spend some time in Utah and Arizona (parks and canyons), through New Mexico, then down and across Texas, landing in San Antonio, where you will likely hear from me next.

Other news:
Warnings on Bear Deterrent Spray: "Do not spray on self, tent, or clothing" "do not store bear spray in hot car."
Where I am storing my bear spray: In my hot car.
Newest disaster fantasy: Bear spray explodes in the car, blinding me. I drive off the road. The car explodes, causing yet another forest fire. Smoky the Bear cries bitter tears, then eats me.
Solution: Keep bear spray in beer cooler. Other suggestions welcome.

Best convenience: Combination espresso stand/car wash.
Best name for a town: Rufus, OR
Dorkiest roadside attractions visited: tie between the Laura Ingalls Wilder Homestead in Minnesota (where I did, in fact, take pictures of the actual Plum Creek) and The Dalles, OR (where, in the computer game, it was the end of the trail and you had to float your wagon downstream without drowning in order to reach Oregon City). Yes, I am, actually, this nerdy. Now you know.

Pressing question: Which is the best movie soundtrack, Moulin Rouge, Magnolia, O Brother Where Art Thou, or The Muppet Movie? I've done the bracket in my head a number of ways, and I have to admit, The Muppet Movie keeps ending up the winner, each time.

Greatest lesson learned: If you wear your bathing suit everyday, it is much more likely that you will go swimming every day.

Major thanks for your advice, suggestions and hospitality so far.

Thinking of you often -

xo
Elizabeth





#4 Born to Run





Hello dear readers.

My odometer is at 7596. My hair is more blond than red now, and I have something resembling a tan.

I've crossed back over the Mississippi, west to east, this time. Currently I'm in Vicksburg, Mississippi, where the internet connection takes its goddamn time, the phone signal is weak and spotty, but the grits are good. I am, truly, in the heart of Dixie, and can see the mighty Mississip from where I sit.

It's taken me a little longer to get back to you than I thought – I successfully landed in San Antonio, coated in a thin film of sunscreen, dirt, and the kind of particular sweaty nastiness that accumulates when one drives long distances. I was more than a little delirious, having spent the previous two weeks camping in the mountains and the desert and the canyons, and having experienced both the "Historic Route 66 Motel" (never stop in Santa Rosa, NM. Never), and the Texas/Mexico border.

My car is truly a spectacular field of bug death -- the bugs here in the south are massive, and they all seem to want to die on my car -- on the front bumper and the backs of the side mirrors, especially. They fly right into the windshield, and explode in spectacular ways. It used to make me flinch and grimace, but now I just sigh and keep driving. Many of them are, apparently, bright yellow on the inside, so the ultimate effect makes it look like a gang of elves has pelted my car with tiny eggs. My windshield wipers are completely useless, and just smear the bug guts around. I'd get a car wash, but it's useless to fight it. I'll wait till I'm back in Yankee territory, where, I hear tell, it is actually not still summer.

I have many stories to tell. Many things have happened, crisis has, for the most part, been averted, and the close calls have provided me hours of entertainment, after the fact. I wish I had more time and more money and more stamina, but I'm close to the end of all of those things.

I've written some longer stories up, or started to, and will be glad to send the complete tales along when they're edited for length and clarity, if you're interested. Chapters currently incude, but are not limited to:

The Time I Went Crazy -- A Ghost Story.
(Elizabeth senses the presence of evil in the park, and spends the night crouched in her car, in pajamas and headlamp, twitching and preparing to battle the invisible menace.)

Animal Encounters
(includes "The Time I Saw a Bear" and "The Time I Thought I Could Talk to Animals")

Saturday Night at the International Youth Hostel.
(Elizabeth accidentally arrives in a college town on a Saturday night, and spends the night trying to explain to foreigners why a cracked bell in Philadelphia is a big deal to us, why meat is so cheap here, and other American conundrums)

How I Learned I'm Not a Nudist, and Decided, Once and For All, Not To
Be a Stripper.
(adventures in communal, co-ed bathing)

Border Patrol!
(Thoughts and experiences on the edges of the country)

I'm off to Atlanta today, driving across Mississippi and Alabama (which are, actually, not as scary as I thought -- kind of a running theme on this trip), and will send some more pictures when I land in one place again.

I should be back on the eastern seaboard at the beginning of next week, and probably in New York around October 1 -- at least for a little while. If that's where you are, I'd love to see you then.

Many, many thanks to you all for your advice, suggestions, insight, couches, spare rooms, books on tape, camping equipment, snacks, and all around good thoughts. You've been on my mind, and I hope I'll see you soon.

xo
Elizabeth






#5 Runaway Home





Dearest friends and associates:

I made it back to the East coast -- arriving safely at my parents quiet and comfortable house in Rose Valley. Pennsylvania.

To close the loop as I began, here's the stats:

Total miles: 9,113
Total days on the road: 42
States visited: Illinois, Wisconsin, Minnesota, South Dakota, Wyoming,
Montana, Idaho, Oregon, California, Nevada, Utah, Arizona, New Mexico,
Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, South Carolina, North
Carolina, Tennessee, Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania.
Nicest view on the last leg of the drive: The Appalachian Mountains.
I love those Rockies, but those old mossy mountains have mysteries in them.

Biggest surprise on returning home: My car registration expired in
June. Oops! Ha, Ha!
Fastest I drove: 110 Mph. Nevada desert. It was fun, but it made the car shake really hard.
Status of Bear Spray: Undeployed. Perhaps I will carry it on the subway.
Most completely unnecessary item: Vegetable steamer.
Most surprisingly useful item: Silk scarf from Paris.
Strangest item acquired mid-journey: My grandmother's mink coat.
Worst hairdo for a cross country drive: Long hair with bangs.
Hairdo I am currently sporting: See above.
Most critical lesson learned the hard way: When you slide down a waterfall, wear shorts.

Many of you asked me if I was keeping a journal throughout the trip -- well, sort of. I've never been very good at being diligent about that sort of thing. I did, however, make use of a digital voice recorder during the trip to document things I saw, ways I was feeling, where I was, etc. (If you think this whole thing is starting to smell suspiciously like an elaborate performance art piece, I really can't blame you.)

Here are some of my favorites:

*****
I think I just hit a bird. In Yellowstone National Park.

There's an adult superstore called "Imagine That!" and it only has a rear entrance.

(the following recorded over several hours driving along rural routes on the Northern California Coast and Routes 101 and 1)
Part 1. Oh my god that was the longest drive I've ever done. I thought I was going to die, I thought I was lost. I thought I was never going to get out of the woods. Oh my god I've never been so happy to be on a highway.
Part 2. Four…thousand…miles.
Part 3. Why would ANYONE live here?
Part 4: I hate Route 1 more than any other road on earth. Even the New Jersey Turnpike. I hate it. I hate it so much.
Part 5 : Fine. Fuck you Route 1. That's fucking beautiful. Yeah, you're fucking right.

Bear! On the road! Bear! Bear! Just...on the road. In Yosemite. A bear.

The general store manager at Crane Flat service station just offered me a shot of amaretto in my coffee. It's, like, 9 o'clock. I guess she has picked me out as somebody who drinks in the morning. Or at least, would understand that she drinks in the morning. Huh.

You should really only ever listen to Pink Floyd when you're driving through Nevada. Only. Holy fuck, look at the Clown Motel! (this is followed by several minutes where Elizabeth accidentally left the recorder on, in which we faintly hear "Another Brick in the Wall" punctuated by Elizabeth laughing and sometimes singing along -- especially with the "Hey! Teacher! Leave those kids alone!" part.)

If I could actually use my jar of pennies to play the penny slots, I would be much more likely to do it. But I don't want to give them a dollar.

The Oasis Hotel has a big flashing sign that says "Tired?" But then, it doesn't say "Stay at our hotel!" it says "Starbucks!"

Just because you can get free refills of Dr. Pepper all day at the Grand Canyon doesn't mean that you should.

My annual park pass totally melted in the Arizona sun. I left it in the windshield of my car to display, and it has melted and bent to form the shape of the dash. It melted in the sun. I can't imagine that the magnetic strip is going to survive. I hope the rest of my wallet is ok. Fuck.

Elizabeth! This is not an off road vehicle!

15 dollars for meteor crater? I don't have 15 dollars to spend on meteor crater. Not even with a movie and a guided tour. 15 dollars? That's highway robbery.

Petrified Forest National Park. Most boring national park ever.

There's a big storm cloud to the left of me, and a big storm cloud to the right of me. And the road is going right in between the two of them.

(big sigh) You know, (another sigh) my car smells like rotten food, (voice trembling) and, (voice breaks) I just, (sniff, sniff, then wailing…) I don't want to sleep outside anymore...(sob, sob, sob…)

So now, I am about to drive the same stretch of road for the 3rd time. Because, I finally, actually, left something behind, which was my phone, at the "Sun and Sand Motel and Restaurant," where I stayed last night. I left my phone there this morning, so I drove back to get it. And now I'm going to drive back where I came from. So that's 100
miles extra. Good.

I've seen two liquor stores called "El Cheapo Liquor." Which is, atleast, honest.

"Alway's" most reasonable? That doesn't make any sense at all.

There's enormous cockroaches, and right now, it's all strip malls. Bleah. Why would you want to come here, Mexicans?

Ew. One stop deer processing and cold storage. Gross.

Uvalde, Texas calls itself Tree City USA, I can think of, like, 1,000 places that are more worthy of the name Tree City USA than Uvalde, TX.

How can I still be 60 miles away from San Antonio? How is that possible? I've been 60 miles away from San Antonio for, like, an hour.

Gross! Taxidermy/Cold Storage? Gross.

"Prison Area. Do not pick up hitchhikers." Love that sign.

"Hay Mini Storage." Looks like "Hay! Mini Storage!" (I don't know how to transcribe it -- but do the thing where "Hay!" gets two syllables -- the first at a higher pitch, the second at a lower pitch. Or call me, and I'll demonstrate.)

"Lumpy's Pig Out Barbecue."

There's a box made of pressboard, with a blue tarp on top of it, tied around with rope, and on the side it says, in spray paint, "free dog."

I like the south because here, when you get 40 dollars out of the ATM, they give it to you in 5's.

There's a town in Mississippi called "Chunky."

I'm on the "Alabama Adventure Freeway." Whee!

There was a sign that said "Bat Cave." Batman would be so upset.

There's a witch driving a minivan. She had a bumpersticker that said "Get a taste of religion. Lick a witch." She's driving a minivan.

Pennsylvania welcomes me!

*******

I wanted to attach some photos, but I took so many that my computer crashes when I try to load up iPhoto. It's all just your typical beautiful majestic bullshit American scenery anyway -- blah, blah, blah.

Once again, many thanks to you all -- your help came from all over in form of equipment, music, company, lodging, food, entertainment, useful advice, encouragement and love, and I am eternally grateful to, and for you. Thanks to everyone who offered me a place to stay or visit that I didn't get to (Southern California, Colorado, Northern Texas, the rest of the Midwest) -- I'll catch you the next time around.

For all of you who said you wished you would do a trip like this, I say to you, emphatically, that you really, really can. And moreover, if you have any inclination or curiosity about such an adventure, you really, really, really should.

You must have, or have access to, these things: A car, some basic camping equipment, a national parks pass, a willingness to ask for help from friends, and friends of friends, and about $1,500 -- cash or credit -- for gas, food, lodging, entertainment. Gas included, I spent an average of $30 a day. However, I can entertain myself pretty cheaply, am not scared of sketchy motels or sleeping outside (anymore) and found that I required little more than nuts, berries, and the occasional cheeseburger. I was very, very lucky to be unemployed and homeless during the trip -- I had no job to take time off from and no apartment to pay rent on. If I could do it again, I'd get a credit card that had some kind of cash back or rewards for gas purchases.

An ipod or other music playing device certainly doesn't hurt, and you would be wise to bring lots of sunscreen, water, a hat, and a good pair of hiking shoes. The silk scarf is up to you, but I certainly recommend it. It will keep your stupid bangs out of your eyes and make you feel like a 1940's movie star when worn with sunglasses -- even if there was no shower at the campground that day.

I'll see some of you in New York this weekend, others, some other time -- and soon, I hope.

Best love,

Elizabeth