36.505 N | 82.432 W
This morning, at 8:16, we untied the lines and set off in our land vessel, a VW Jetta that Chip has named Terra Mia. Destination: New Mexico.
For three years, we have traveled by water at 5 mph. Today, by 9 a.m., we had covered the distance that by boat would have taken the entire day. By 10 a.m., we had whisked from Delaware to Maryland to Virginia, a path that took us over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge (instead of under it), around D.C., where the Mormon Temple loomed up ahead.
The city gave way to fields and hours slowly passed. The winter storm moved off without notice, and left a clear path down the Shenandoah Valley, dry and brilliant, blue mountains against a pale sky. At 70 mph we watched through a bubble of glass as the trees flew by around us, as clouds streaked white, gained weight and turned steely gray.
The sun faded as we pulled in to Kingsport, Tennessee, road weary, a weary I never felt after a long day afloat. Way over here, three states away, I miss the water, the blue, the birds, the dolphins. I love the trees, the mountains, the barns and cows. I sorely miss the freedom of moving about the boat when I'm off watch and cooking a hot meal at anchor at the end of the day. I relish the luxury of a hot shower and lounging in a king-size bed without worrying about anchors or currents or shifting tides.
I saw a flock of birds wending south and part of me wished I was tagging along. But three years of south begs for a change in direction, so off we go to the west, to look, to see, to know. The palette has changed, the air has grown cold, and movement stirs the soul. West again tomorrow.
"Wandering re-establishes the original harmony which once existed between man and the universe." --Anatole France
I love a good road trip, so exciting. Depending on your trip through Texas, if you choose a northern crossing across the panhandle via Oklahoma (Route 66ish) you should try to stop in a Palo Duro Canyon. Some say it's a close tiny rival to the Grand Canyon.
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