Rain...

Tuesday – May 5th - I awoke to the sound all campers dread – the sound of rain on the tent canopy. 7:48 AM. Packing a soggy sleeping bag and a wet, muddy tent is not fun. There was little hope of cooking the bacon and eggs I had planned to have for breakfast. I read for an hour, hoping for the rain to cease. I finally got a lull, and decided to pack up as quickly as possible, and hit the road.

The weather was lousy all around, and the Blue Ridge Parkway had several detours – three sections of the road were closed. That was annoying as hell. Squinting into a pouring rain looking for Detour signs on treacherous, wooded, back-country roads.

I began the day with no specific destination in mind, but it quickly became a matter of just trying to decide whether or not I should camp out. When I reached the peaks of the mountains the weather was decent, but down in the valleys it was solid overcast. All the campgrounds, of course, were in the valleys.

Views from the mountain tops - the valleys below were totally socked in:




So I kept driving, trying to get accustomed to the fact that I should be in no particular hurry. The speed limit on the Parkway is 45. Much of the time I couldn’t even drive that fast because of the curves and slick roads and the fact that my old SUV is carrying the heaviest load it’s ever carried. It was strange to have the cloud cover so low. Every few minutes I would climb through the clouds into relative sunshine, then descend again into a valley and wet, chilly gloom.

Not much sense in stopping for the scenic views of the valleys below!:


I got off the Parkway, and stopped at a campground to check it out. I didn’t like it. Meant for RV’s, it was basically a parking lot with electric poles. I also drove by two hotels, and didn’t like those either. Back to the Parkway. I kept driving, hoping to get past the weather, but it followed me! Finally, I saw a sign saying, “The Blue Ridge Parkway Enters Virginia.” Virginia? I had no idea that I had driven that far. I had a very detailed topographical map of North Carolina, but no map of Virginia at all, so I decided to give up the campground search, head for the nearest big town in Virginia and check into a hotel.

As it turned out, I crawled into a Howard Johnson's in Roanoke at about 9 PM. I sat in the room and ate sliced fruit, sliced cajun turkey and giant Snyder's pretzels - mostly because those were the only things I could reach in my car without unpacking it.

All in all, it was a lousy day.

French Broad. River, that is...

During the late afternoon of Monday, May 4th, I arrived at the French Broad River Campground, just north of Asheville, North Carolina. It sounded like a more remote option than the KOA. I was glad I had decided to be sure there was daylight left. Setting up a new tent for the first time is always an adventure, and, of course, the “directions” were totally useless. After a few minutes of staring at it and walking around, I figured it out. It’s very light – too light for a bad storm, I think – but an ingenious design. Two sectioned graphite poles form a crossed arch beneath which the center dome of the tent is suspended. When the corners are secured by stakes, the result is a fairly comfortable shelter.

I tossed my sleeping bag inside, plugged in my extension cord and used my recently acquired hair dryer (thanks Elaine!) to blow up the air mattress, and then settled down to build a fire, eat and relax. I had decided not to grill a steak on this first night in a tent. I had no room in the car for another trip to the grocery store! So I opted for chicken salad pitas. The diced red onions I bought were potent – I’m fairly certain the smell of those alone would keep the bears away.

It had been so long since I sat by a campfire in the woods that I spent a few hours just watching and enjoying. A brief drizzle made me wonder if I was in for a miserable night (it had rained most of the day), but a few stars appeared. Then the moon broke through a hole in the clouds, and the river – just twenty feet away – was soon reflecting the narrow beam of silver light.

I had traveled 601 miles since Saturday afternoon, and I was now where I wanted to be – nowhere, for a few days, at least.

I thought I'd add a few visual aids...

My new tent on the banks of the French Broad:


I put Albert in the Rolling Rock chair to enjoy the view:


A video I shot that night, from my chair (it may take a minute to load):

Departure...

So the time arrived. Saturday, May 2nd at 4:30, I departed the Good Year Service Center on Main Street. I had gone there, at the last minute, after noticing how heavy the load in my SUV was, and how crappy my front tires were. In the interest of safety, and to ease the concern of loved ones, I spent an extra hour (and $252) in Gainesville. Then I drove up 441 to Alachua, and turned right on the northbound ramp of I-75.

My first stop was my sister's house in Alpharetta, Georgia (HERE). After a long process of packing, moving and good-byes, I was exhausted. I am here now, resting, and visiting with my sister and my two nieces. Tomorrow, I will head to North Carolina and the bottom of the Blue Ridge Parkway.

To my family and friends, I want you to know that I am moving farther away, but I am not leaving you. If you know me well, you know that I check my e-mail compulsively, and I am never without my cell phone. I am only a few hours away by plane, if you need me. I will ride my goddamn bike if I have to. I hope you know that, because I’m not sure I could survive if I thought you felt otherwise. Even now, I miss the many friendly faces that I have grown accustomed to seeing so frequently. I don’t want to lose you. I just want to find me.

I am anxious to find new challenges, to use my brain until it is as tired as my liver, to process new information on an hourly basis, to walk two blocks and be hopelessly lost instead of knowing exactly where I am. I am anxious to do something that makes a difference. Somehow. I am, at the very least, anxious to try.

I have been an emotional wreck, one minute near giddy delirium at the thought of the new experiences I hope to enjoy, the next minute wanting to curl up in an infantile ball in the corner and cry until I can't anymore - wondering how I can survive outside the town that has been home for my entire adult life.

Tomorrow, I assume I will end up in a campground near Asheville (HERE). I'm not yet sure where I will stay, although I am leaning toward the Asheville West KOA. They have free WiFi, and, as much as I am looking to escape from the stress for a few days, I'm not sure I'm ready to give up my internet access. We'll see.

I expect to relax, travel slowly, enjoy my free time as much as possible, and maybe even take a few photos that I will share with you. Wish me well. I love you all.

The Divorce is Final

Last Saturday, I received my vacation and sick leave check from the University of Florida. Forty-seven days after my last day at work. FORTY-SEVEN FREAKIN' DAYS. It has been one of the worst periods of my life. Trapped. Frustrated. Useless.

But now the action will come fast and furious. Yesterday, I moved my stuff into my brother's place for safekeeping (and to beef up his furnishings!), and am now getting ready to REALLY embark on the New Clothing Entgerprise. Stay tuned. Some sad, some happy, some in between.

The New Clothing Enterprise is finally set to begin.

Plan...

I heard yesterday that Bencor (who administers UF's sick and vacation time payouts) will mail my check on Monday - forty three days since my last day at work. These have been forty three of the most useless days of my adult life; waiting for the bureaucratic wheels to turn. My suspicion, from the beginning, was that I needed to stay in Gainesville so I could pester the appropriate people to ensure things happened the way they were supposed to, and, as it turns out, I was right. Without multiple visits, phone calls, and faxes, I have no idea where in the process I would be. But now, the time has arrived to put the plan in action.

I plan to be in Washington DC by May 8th. I plan to spend several days camping - in the Smokies, the Blue Ridge, and the Shenandoahs - on the way up. My aim is to store my belongings at my brother's house in Orlando on April 28th or 29th, and depart for the nation's capitol by May 1st.

There is much to be done between now and then. Stay tuned!

Frustration...

Let me give you, my friends and followers, some idea of what I am dealing with.

My last day at WRUF, officially, was Thursday, March 5th. I had a substantial amount of sick and vacation time for which I, as a vested employee, would get paid upon my resignation. Optimists told me it might happen within three weeks. Human Resources told me it would take four to six.

By working with the Business Manager at WRUF, who is always as helpful as she can be, I determined, on March 27th, that my leave payout was due to be transmitted to Bencor (the company that administers it) on April 8th - more than a month after the effective date of my resignation. I knew I had to fax them a form to authorize my payment, so I did it on that day - March 27th. I kept the confirmation sheet from the fax.

I called Bencor today and discovered that they did, in fact, receive my leave payout from UF on April 9th (ok, only a day late, according to them), but they had no record of ever receiving my fax authorizing a payout. I had a feeling...

So I am now rushing back to my old office at WRUF to re-fax a form that I originally sent two weeks ago. I am told if I get it in today, they can process my request this week, and I might have a check next week - which would, indeed, be a full six weeks from my last day at work. When you bear in mind that the terms of my employment called for me to give thirty days notice - so SOMEONE has known about this since the first week of February - you might get a sense of how frustrating it has been to sit around and wait. And wait. And wait.

This is the money that will keep me alive while I begin my New Clothing Enterprise. I've been ready to begin it for months. It appears I am finally down to just a couple more weeks...

Slow...

Interesting things happen when you’re stuck in limbo for a while, and the pace and purpose of your life is altered. I find myself slowing down when I eat. What’s the rush? I should eat better food (only less of it!) and enjoy it more. I find myself taking the time to notice a beautiful spring sky, or the endless shades of green in the grasses, plants, vines and trees that enshroud Gainesville. And I find myself being more patient with others.

I experienced the effect recently at my neighborhood Starbucks. There always seems to be at least one patron who is oblivious to the fact that the world is, in fact, inhabited by other people. They stand in the way, occupy too much of the barista’s time, and just generally find ways to make the preparation of my cup of coffee take twice as long as it should. On this day, there was a man who was apparently determined to help his coffee achieve the perfect balance of bitter and sweet by adding sugar one granule at a time. Then, he added half and half to the mix as if it were an exercise in alchemy; perhaps that ten thousandth stir might turn the coffee into gold.

It is a tribute to my current state of mind that I resisted the urge to kick him in the shins. I had one errand to do and two hours to do it. I remained patient and pleasant. I waited. Perhaps having no place to go makes people nicer.

I sat down to relax for a few minutes after doctoring up my own steaming brew. Then the worst possible thing happened; classes adjourned at the nearby high school and a dozen noisy teens walked in. I don’t have the patience for that. I ran out the door, in a hurry once again.

**********************************************************************************
Now Playing:

Slow – Collective Soul


This is an obscure song from the album “Dosage” about ten years ago. It is kind of a strange song, but I like it. I hadn’t heard it in a while, and then stumbled across it one day when I was looking for songs that fit my mood. This one does.

Lyrics:

Mornings like this
Make me feel like I could never float
Glimpses of peace
Portray all that you never could show

(chorus)
I'm not weakened by the fears
That you have applied
See I'm now learning in these walls
That I've been supplied
Slow
Slow down boy
Slow down to control
Slow, slow

Clothed in new costumes
That weather your newfound storms
Staring through reason
Content with your newfound decor

(chorus)

(spoken)
I passed the darkened vaults of
Late doorways as if I were a king
Like this I chain a whisper to my faults

(chorus)


Slow – Fuel


This is very different from the Collective Soul song. It seems to be about quiet desperation – the slow and inevitable disintegration of everything that is important to you. But it ends on a vaguely upbeat note. And, in my opinion, Brett Scallions has one of the better voices in rock – very distinctive, good tone, great range and brilliant phrasing.

Lyrics:

All this time
I thought this coming down was fine
Now everything I fought to grow
Is withered hanging on that vine

[chorus]
And all I wanted
Was all I needed you know
And everything good in my life
If you have to take it all way
Oh, no, take it all away, oh, no no no...
Take it slow.

Everything I try to find
Is every love I'll never hold
And in your garden now
The weeds are choking seeds we've sown

[chorus]

Now you find
Your own savior for a time
And if you try my love
I hope you'll find your cure in time

(chorus)