For example, I've seen a lot of trucks. I don't think I fully appreciated how this nation's entire supply structure relies on trucks. Knowing this, I don't begrudge them idling their engines all night long at rest areas, because I know they are carrying the paper towels and Triscuits I will soon be buying at the Walmart down the road.
I have a renewed commitment to not eating animals, especially beef. I saw cattle grazing in open pastures and cattle crowded into dirt pens, already half lifeless as if they knew they would soon be hamburger. I cried.
I have compassion for the multitudes of raccoons, possums, skunks, squirrels, birds, and deer that got popped by fast-moving vehicles and then pummeled over and over until only a blood stain on the road marked their passing. I saw it happen. A hawk flew down from trees on the verge and smacked into a fast-moving SUV passing me on the left. I braked and waited to see where the bird would land. It fell into the middle of my lane. I made sure I didn't flatten it with my tires. I doubt it would have felt it if I had. I'm quite sure that bird was dead. I feel deep chagrin realizing nature and it's wildlife were here first. Humans are the encroachers. We wreck everything.
Speaking of wrecking things, some humans wreck more than others. I traveled the Trail of Tears. Now every billboard is hawking Native American artifacts, as if White settlers didn't commit genocide as they barb-wired the Plains. I could have visited museums and gift shops to see how humans have commemorated the decimation of cultures and their way of life. I'm not much of a tourist. I didn't stop.
Humans aren't all bad. Some humans are very creative. Case in point, the Uranus Fudge Factory. Cadillac Ranch. A church billboard stating "Weed love to see you" (not sure if that was a typo or what).
Now that I'm back in the west (New Mexico), I miss the swells of dense green trees in West Virginia, Kentucky, Illinois, Missouri, and Arkansas. Who knew Kentucky was all perfectly mown lawn? Who could have imagined Arkansas was a misty green paradise? I sampled the air and savored the colors in every state I visited. And no, in case you are wondering, I did not visit any museums. I did not see any national parks or stay in state campgrounds. I wasn't a tourist. I was an explorer, a documenter of a personal odyssey.
The logistics of this lifestyle keep me grounded in reality. Besides the challenges of personal hygiene, I have to find safe places to park overnight. Rest areas are good, but noisy. Cracker Barrel is a popular RV destination, safe but cramped. Lowe's and Home Depot are mostly good, if you don't mind workers coming and going all night. Mall parking lots are verboten: security will roust you with the knock. Walmarts are no longer consistently welcoming to travelers, having learned the hard way that some travelers cannot be trusted not to trash the place.
Another challenge is keeping my power stations charged. Because I can't easily deploy my solar panels, I must keep moving. The power stations recharge when I drive. I ran out of power once, when I was in Minneapolis for a few days to see a friend. My fridge died. Since then, I try to drive at least three hours a day. You can cover a lot of ground in three hours. In Montana the freeway speed limit was 80 mph. In Minnesota the minimum speed limit on the freeway was 40 mph.
Sometimes I felt compelled to drive because of wildfire smoke or heat domes, even when I would have preferred to take my time. For instance, yesterday I drove six hours through three states to get to a place where I wouldn't fry. That's too much driving for me.
After I have my final video call of the day, I will move on from this rest area. The amazing view over the craggy brown rocks and scrubby desert trees doesn't offset the stench of an overworked septic field. All around this tired old rest area are signs asking "How did we do?" and "How would you rate this rest area?" as if they know their rest area stinks. Some states have lovely rest areas, with huge tiled rest rooms that I could easily live in, if they would rent out a corner to the unhoused.
In another few days I'll be back in Arizona. The adventure continues.
