Friday, May 28, 2010

Crossing the Rubicon

It's been a wet, gloomy, raw day here in this waiting room of a town. In Duluth, the fog makes the Lake disappear; in Bozeman, the clouds make the mountains disappear.

My bus companion stopped by and we talked and said goodbye. It would have been nice to have a friend in the area but complicated circumstances on both sides made it impossible. I knew I was passing into a strange new place when I even spoke to someone on the bus, much less suggested we get together.

What did I do on my last day? I took a nap on a bed where I can't reach either side of the mattress when I'm lying in the middle. I'd like to take it with me. And the microwave and the refrigerator and the tv and the private bathroom. Why am I doing this again? I've already seen the mountains.

After my nap, I wrote down the bus schedule from here to Duluth. I thought the first cigarette in years might be good, but I'm in a non-smoking room. I wondered how many minutes it would take me to pack up yet again. I cranked up the tinny sound of Bruce Cockburn on the laptop. The trouble with normal is it always gets worse.

Off to the abnormal I go early in the morning, hoping the internet really exists in the canyon. The weekend's high temperature looks to be around 40; I might wear my winter coat across the river. Still pacing the cage, looking for the door. . .


Judy said...

It's not that cold here at Old Faithful. Just raining. Maybe snow tomorrow. You will have fun. There must be a reason for doing this, right?

Northland said...

Nice that the acquaintance from the bus stopped to see you.So seldom in my own experience has a happenstance meeting while traveling turned into a prolonged friendship, or even a second get-together.
I wouldn't mind a bit of raw weather here, as the mostly droughty weather with unseasonably hot temperatures is a really big bummer in a place that, climate-wise, needs precipitation.
I took your blog advice and ordered Twelve By Twelve and Following the Water. Enjoying 12 X 12 more than I thought I would. I have a tendency toward skepticism of an author who spends a few weeks off the grid and then writes a book about it. It is so much more than a pseudo-Thoreauvian 21st century "We went to the woods" book. Thanks for the heads up on it.
When going into circumstances such as you're about to enter, the only advice I would give (and it may not be relevant to you) is KEEP A LOW PROFILE. I joke, enjoy yourself out of your comfort zone.

greentangle said...

Judy, some snow might make me happy. It's still raining here. I hope to have fun, but most of my reasons for doing this are the same reasons people go to work at McDonalds every day.

Northland, glad you're enjoying the book. Some reviewers complained that it wasn't really about living in a cabin, but I agree that wasn't a book he was qualified to write. The one he did write is hard to categorize but very interesting I thought.

My primary short term objective is to KEEP A LOW BUNK-BED.

greentangle said...

With one hour left before I leave this world, at 6:30 AM Mountain Time, it's snowing. Just some slow raindrops really, melting in the puddle which covers the parking lot. No bus across the street yet. Could I make a break for it?