Sunday, July 3, 2011

Louie B. Nunn Pkwy ahead.

After driving through the rolling country of I-40 to Nashville, Tennessee, I pulled off I-65 at Franklin, Kentucky, for a very late lunch. Burger King fries and a grilled chicken sandwich was half-gobbled before I felt sick and disgusted at the meal and how quickly I had attempted to eat it. Back on the road again, I rolled past Bowling Green, and onto Louie B. Nunn Parkway. I stopped in Columbia for gas, hoping the fuel contained no ethanol; There were no signs signaling it was in use or not. When I finally came to Somerset, turned onto 461 North towards Mt. Vernon, I began to see the cut-through rock hills I witnessed the first time I had driven this route. I remembered the September rain, the uncertainty of my Nancy exit and the narrow Highway 80 road taken way too early. I was driving my mother's van heading to Berea for my first archival job and this wrong turn felt like a bad omen on the rest of the adventure; I was wrong.

Remember that Nancy exit...

I kept tabs on my phone and facebook status throughout my trip. Just before turning onto I-75 North I typed "Mt. Vernon." Fourteen miles later, exit 76, slowing down to 35 mph on Highway 25, St. Clare Catholic Church on the left and antique stores on the right, slow to a stop, flip the turn signal and wait to roll down the hill into Old Town Berea.

I stopped across from the skating rink and got out of the car, stretched my legs, and looked around. It was a gorgeous blue sky Sunday. All the businesses here were closed after 5pm, and I heard the train coming down the tracks. I strained to see it pass, thinking of my midnight walks along the tracks and a poem I had written confessing adoration. The depot was under construction and all other immediate view was blocked. I listened as it passed by and saw the cars begin to line up on Jefferson.

Janie and me at Papa Leno's

Legs stretched, I got back in the car and turned onto Jefferson, Ellipse, then back into town towards Papa Leno's where I'd meet Janie for dinner. I park across the street from Main Street Cafe, walked past Berea Coffee & Tea, and sat down on the white steps to type "Berea, KY" as my status. Then I "checked-in" at Papa Leno's restaurant, called Janie, and soon she appeared grinning. Hugs followed. We went inside, meandered over the menu, and settled on a vegetarian pizza. Meanwhile I recognized Chappy and said hellos and introductions and hugs. I was tongue-tied tired and stumbled over saying he plays my favorite cover of Ryan Adams' song "Winding Wheel." I checked my phone and Phoebe exclaimed "I NEED YOUR PHONE NUMBER" on my check-in. She called and settled on coming soon. Janie and I talked about work and life and dating. Phoebe eventually arrived, and finally Adam recognized us (he put his glasses on) after having come and gone several times without acknowledging us when I waved. He sat with us and joked. We had time-warped 3 years earlier.

Phoebe and Adam

After while Janie had to depart for the evening, get rest for her long road trip back home Monday amid Fourth of July traffic. Farewell hugs, walks around the corner, PT Cruiser smiles, waves goodbye. I missed her a lot.

Meet Harley

Eventually Phoebe, Adam, and I made our way to the back parking lot of Boone Tavern and I met Harley, a great big sweet dog who is apprehensive around men and protective of women, especially Phoebe. Adam needed a haircut and so Phoebe offered up her scissors. She proceeded to cut inches off around his head; Curb Cuts was discovered. One free haircut later we stood around laughing over the pictures I'd taken of them, then Adam shared his charity idea named after a Stephen King story, The Longest Walk. We sorted out all the details, exceptions, specifics, goals, prizes, purposes, media -- all the necessary bits and pieces.

The light faded. I had to take pictures with a flash instead of opening up the shutter and aperture. Slowly the conversation quieted, we struggled to find something we haven't already talked about. We hugged and I said goodnight to Adam. Harley got back in the van and I followed Phoebe out to Owsley Fork, past Big Hill, and over some hills. I was in wonder of her humble abode. A gypsy home, full of scarves and pillows, feathers and plants, artwork in progress. A pallet made on the couch, I found deep slumber from the long day, my winding wheel.

Phoebe's bag

You might ask why this video of Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers singing "Refugee" follows this post. It is the one song I logged on Sunday during my drive for having listened to it from the radio. Other days from the road trip will have better music notation to correspond with events. Enjoy.