If traveling is currently restricted, then the next best thing is to read some travel literature. I am currently reading the least-known (at least to me) of the Trinity of American Road Literature, Blue Highways, written by William Least Heat-Moon. Published in 1982, the book is an account of his travels across the United States in the late 1970s after losing a teaching job and becoming divorced from his wife. It ranks with the other two famous “road” books: Jack Kerouac’s On The Road, and John Steinbeck’s Travels with Charley. I had heard of the other two, but never Blue Highways. My loss.

The book is part journal, part journalism. Heat-Moon basically does a circumnavigation of the outer edges of the US, starting in Columbia MO, heading to the southeast coast, across the south, up the desert southwest to the Pacific Northwest, across the high plains, through New England, and down back the east coast and across again to Columbia. Right now I am in North Dakota with him, about 2/3 of the way through the book.

It’s a great read. I do feel a certain connection to the man and the travels. He has done something that I’ve always wanted to do, and may yet do someday. Wanderlust is a powerful emotion, and while I have done my fair share of travels in my life, I’ve never quite gone on an extended road trip like this, especially one that follows the back roads of the US. It’s an alluring dream, but the circumstances of my life so far have not offered to me (or I have not chosen to take) the time, freedom, or the solitude to attempt such a journey.

What makes the book so interesting is the writing style. Heat-Moon has the ability to be poetic while simultaneously being narrative. He is very good at engaging with the people he meets, and he is meticulous in reporting the encounters. His descriptions of people are unique in that he seems to capture, not just a description of what they look like, but what their external appearance seems to say about their inner life and their personal conditions in life. Not unsurprisingly, he likes bars and cafes, and he finds most of the people he describes in one or the other. An occasional hitchhiker joins him for a spell. He lives in a Ford Econoline van, long before #vanlife was ever a thing.

Ghost Dancing, Heat-Moon’s van.

His van, actually, was quite similar to one I owned at that same moment in time, a Ford Econoline E-150 with shaggy carpet interior and no seats. I bought that van in the hope of taking more road journeys after the cross-country trip my wife and I made back in 1976 in a VW Squareback. Heat-Moon eschews the tourist traps, parks, and legitimate campgrounds for simply pulling over on a sidestreet in a small town and sleeping in the van. His lack of gear is astounding when compared to #vanlife today.

In fact, I think I feel pulled to the book largely because of the immense difference I feel between people who are on the road today as opposed to 30 years ago. Today, it’s all about “experiences.” People get on the road to work part-time via the internet and to have “experiences” such as surfing or rock-climbing or a myriad of other experiences one can enjoy. The vans themselves are custom-made, have many of the modern conveniences of today’s technology (Heat-Moon didn’t even have a cell phone), and can cost up to $10-50K. That’s not to mention many of the people who are full-time RVers, with their $50-100K rigs and trucks and assorted toys. It always troubles me somewhat that, in wanting to travel, I come to the realization that the roads today are crowded with these kinds of experience-seekers. I often wonder if it’s even possible anymore to make a journey similar to Heat-Moon’s. Can one really truly get lost in America’s backroads today?

Heat-Moon’s journey was not about seeking “experiences.” It was a journey of self-discovery, of finding one’s self through others one met along the way. It was a journey into the interior of his existence through the external factors of the environment and the people he met. As such, it is a wonderfully satisfying journey to share. There are few pictures in the book, and the ones that are there are mostly quick portraits of the people he met. No landscapes, no scenery, no snaps of building he describes. You are left to feel the land and the people through his descriptions, nothing more. The journey, at all levels, is sparse, intimate, and personal.

I was never taken with On The Road. I tried to read it a number of years ago but found it too chaotic and perhaps a bit self-indulgent. I may have to try again. I’ve never read Travels with Charley and perhaps now is the perfect time to pick up that book and give it a read. Blue Highways is exactly the kind if book I need right now, as I sit sheltered at home, limited in my freedom to travel. -twl

When my mother passed away two months ago, I thought that my time for unrestricted travel had finally come. Three weeks after her passing, shelter-in-place orders had been put in place, so I became stuck at home. I am not complaining about that, because I believe it is necessary, but all the same, it has resulted in my dreams of travel being lost. Perhaps it’s better to think of them as being misplaced so as not to lose too much hope.

I am sure that travel will be much different if and when the “lockdown” period begins to end. I am mostly interested in travelling in my RV, but overseas travel was also on the agenda. I have no illusions that travel will become far more complex. On top of the already onerous process of getting through airport security will be added some sort of checking for signs of virus. You’ll have to provide some sort of evidence that you are healthy and virus-free. I suspect free and unrestricted travel will become a thing of the past. I also suspect that the processes by which safe travel will be reasonably guaranteed will take upwards of three years to put in place.

And once you travel, where will you go? How will tourist sites deal with continued physical distancing requirements? How will national parks and forests manage how many people can be let in? How will art museums and other tourist attractions handle their crowds? How will hotels deal with things like free breakfasts? What sanitation regulations will be implemented to insure your room is safe? So many questions.

Here is the list of trips I’ve had to put off since retirement for one reason or another. Some of them I’ve been able to do in smaller ways, but the larger trips have yet to happen.

• A major fall trip. Starting in Labrador and following the changing of the leaves throughout the eastern portion of the US. This trip probably goes from mid-September through the end of November, from Newfoundland/Labradour to maybe just south of the Smoky Mountains. 3 months.
• Winter snow bird trip. Ideally we come home for the holidays after the fall trip and then set out for the desert southwest. My brother has a vacation house in Ft. Mohave AZ, and it’s a great spot for escaping the winter. Sometime in the future I’d either like to have a very inexpensive house out there, or find an RV resort we can return to every year. I’m rather done with winter.
• Ireland. I would love to take a walking tour of Ireland. Maybe two or three.
• I’ve been to London twice, but I’d like to see more of the UK countryside. I would like to get up to Glasgow as an ultimate destination. I’ve also been to Paris, but only for seven hours, so I’d like to combine the London/Paris trip as one.
• A European river cruise. Doesn’t really matter which one, but the Danube would be preferred.
• Japan. Three months if possible.

Those are the major travel dreams. I’d also like to hike the Appalachian Trail, but trying to get all this in may be asking too much. The enemy is time, and with the pandemic stealing anywhere from 2-3 years, it may be tough to get this all in. I hope I don’t lose these dreams to the virus. I think I fear that more than anything else.  -twl