Go East, my boy!
With summertime comes a great migration. I’m off to middle America — home base, if you will. Davenport, Iowa to be specific. The Mississippi calls to me like a burnt-out whore. The Willamette is beautiful and all but there are some things that she just won’t do. Don’t worry, Willamette, I’ll take you home to Mom someday but for now I have some wild oats to sew. In the mud.
Weird scenes inside the gold mine…
It’s going to be strange going back home after spending so much time Eugene, Oregon. It’s going to be strange to be just about the only VW Bus in town. It’s going to be strange not to have such easy access to savage, brain hollowing drugs. It’s going to be a bitch dealing with the humidity, the flat and the boring. Why am I going back again? It’s all about the journey, my blurry eyed friends.
And there will be many. Go in any direction from Iowa for 10 hours and you will be in a brand new, comparatively exhilarating ecosystem. As mentioned above, Davenport is going to be my base of operations. Many trips will be planned and carried out, hence this blog.
Just the facts.
My Pop has taken 9 days off work and is flying out to Eugene in a few weeks. The very next day we will begin our epic road trip in my 1965 VW Bus, Izabella.
Among the highlights: Oregon coast, Redwood National and State Parks, the Lost Coast, Yosemite NP, Area 51 and the Extraterrestrial Hwy, Zion NP, Monument Valley, Canyonlands NP, Arches NP, Woody Creek (yes), Rocky Mountain NP, Boring, Home.
Hit the road Jack.
It’s going to be a long trip. Even longer at 55mph on two-lane highways. Even longer without air-conditioning. And longer still when you and your father have violently disparate musical tastes.
We’re going to live it up like impoverished kings. Nine whole days living in a van, occasionally down by a river. Camping each and every night (if I can talk him into it). Cold cuts, cheese and uncooked ravioli. Beer. Dirt. Fun. If that doesn’t sound great to you then I suggest you stop reading now.
Will we make it? Will we get devoured by Wendigo? Are we really only going to eat cold cuts, cheese and uncooked raviolli? Every last detail (that I feel like typing after each action packed day) will be posted hereabouts at 60horsepowerprophet.com. Dig it.