03/2010 Travel Photographs

It started off as a flipped coin. The options registered between solitary living and complete assurance of recognized territory verses uncharted exploration with limited resources and an addiction to getting lost. Luckily, that imaginary coin inevitably landed on the 'fill up the damn travel bags and let's get out of here!'

Dylan, or from now on in this story known as 'Soil Finn' and myself found the March of 2010 to be of a charming temperature. We'd both finished 'The Hobbit' and around this time so the idea of 'adventure' was alluring. People would be slouching or getting drunk to complete extremities and many familiar scenes of grey walls were open to repetition in a place where spring break nourishes a populace with getting hammered. I don't remember exactly how the idea was approached, but the events of the previous sentence had a mighty reign of decision on where not to be. Soon enough we were piercing through hordes of town borders alongside enormous RV/Camper lots and Stop'n'Gos along the interstates.

The interstates and back roads are brought up a lot when traveling is discussed and it is indeed no hoax that the back roads are of beauty and surprises whereas the interstate is as different as visiting a theme park in FL rather than going to a theme park in LA., or, visiting a Wendy's in Portland would be interstate, but eating home made food and ice cream in a tucked away family run business in West Virgina is the back roads luxury.  I imagine those on schedules getting irritated with all the winding roads, but throwing that clock out of the window led to appreciating many of the reckless roads and expansive forests that surrounded rocky scenery but also new cities along the way.

A couple guitars and some changes of clothes... Many extra socks for myself, with what proved to be TOO many socks, canned foods and a stack of memory cards and notebooks of course. There was no real destiny other than where we would end up and how long we could ride on expending the fuel costs plus how much money that could possibly be panhandled to correct that.

The first town we went to was Jamestown, but only after we rolled into Allegeny park, Ny. It was a last second decision, and the curvature of the off ramp exit was as rounded as an obvious fake set of silicone breasts on an all too petite.. well, a better reference could be used.. The off ramp was simply a complete loop, so we felt like a rocketship making a u-turn with this

"Should we"

"I don't know, should we!?"

"Yeah!" decided, right when the exit was nearly passed.

So we went there instead of seeing the world's biggest ZIPPO lighter. Which might have been a good idea as now matches or the stove top are my current resorts of fire.

Ice patterns within a lake at Allegeny

When everything is new to you, it is all untouched. The details are vibrant and the colors all have a temperature and story that you can find yourself too overwhelmed to realize until you look back on it later. Even looking back on the choice that was delving into that off-ramp exit.

It was nearly empty and the roads seemed to go on forever.. But they weren't roads, really.. They didn't seem like traditional 'Roads' going from a point A to point B. There was actual experience in any direction. Park wherever and get out.. so we did.

There was still ice over the pond

Enter Jamestown:

There were two areas visited which I had experienced in the past, Cleveland, Oh and jamestown,Ny.
The latter, being the second 'pin on the map' of discovery was a town that never really seemed to have aged.
By the time we arrived, nightfall was already starting to birth, and one thing about this town was that after 8PM it was ghost-silent.
Though the communal aspect was tucked away, this only added to the availability to explore the areas otherwise limited such as old buildings and places between the gritty areas. Old dreams of this scenery came up many times since my first visit, so it was interesting in seeing it all once more.

A statue photographed from through architecture nearby a pawn shop and taco restaurant Pawn
your shoes and buy shelled tacos.

A rooftop viewpoint with the olde tyme movie theatre across the street.

A human below walking the sidewalk, creating a fun photo perspective.

Soil Finn skates down the garage ramps in a blur of speed.

Alleys ahead: Land of stray cats.

Beside the train tracks and near a passing stream in Jamestown,Ny.

The town was nice and worth a third visit, but it's mellow tone was too subtle and only being the first day of travel, we had said our goodbyes to Jamestown and headed
forward.

I remember two 50 stacks of CDs becoming wearisome by the end of the trip, but somehow the Ramones saved me from what otherwise might have been a drained behavior and upset demeanor of becoming 'too lost.'

driving, driving, driving, driving. Eyes became heavy and it was about damn time to re-energize. A parking lot of a strip mall.. How appropriate for indivuals seeking free air and breath of life. Well, It'll do for now.. The street cleaner finally went away and the morning was filled with a wish for more sleep and parking lot gifted with piss stains and passing shoppers.. staring at the out-of-towners.

A bed room and pissed parking lot as Finn wanders while I get rest.

Photo by Soil Finn, A nice capture if I do say so (which I just did.)

I woke up with a giant 'Babies'R'Us' sign staring at my face. We'd quickly get the heck out of there

Photo by Soil Finn. Cross re-arrange wires on light totems.

FOUR more children popped out of that vehicle which made me thank never being premature with and previous close lady friends.

Travel breath fights a war with shoe stink and sometimes they fight to the end.

Canned foods taste better
when your gums and tongue aren't up to the brim in plaque.

Eerie

Eerie, lake Eerie.. Mostly beautiful. Almost always beautiful.. Somebody read the map correctlyand after passing many vineyards on left and right and unforunately being reminded of the newAmericana known as TOLL roads we made it to Lake Eerie.

Lake Eerie,a bit zoomed in

A woman collects shells on the beast and finds herself in strange composition.

Shortly after, I remember the 'Happy Imbecile' song playing by Butterfly Joe (Joe Jack Talcum) and and arriving in the Town of Eerie. We'd rolled into a parking lot, picked some canned fruit out of the trunk storage and walked/skated to wherever we just might end up.

This town seemed rugged at first, moreso a factory town. The textures were sharp, the colors wererusty yet bright with the sun displaying them as important. We'd hopped a fence and used the railroads as a guiding point.

This is what a mushroom house looks like, in case you've ever wondered. Photo: Soil Finn.

S. Finn gets extremely radical doing amazing maneuvers from a tree.

Peach Street:

Town Summit.
Town Summit, Again.
Town... Fucking Summit!

Something happened. A time vortex conundrum, or.. Very impractical route choices.
Every seven or so minutes we had kept finding ourselves in Town Summit.. With the same surroundings and odd road structures.
We gave up on the delusion and rested our now nerve wrecked minds over this Town Summit thing
and took two packets of instant oatmeal and some bowls we had bought earlier on the trip into a grovery store eating area.
We proceeded outside as I sat three yards away from busted glass on the outside eating area as normal patrons gawked outside at two people enjoying a mid afternoon breakfast on the pavement.
I remember waving idiotically and winking at a senior couple and lively brunetts a few times  and soon breakfast was finished and this Town Summit problem would have to be tackled.

Somehow, we escaped the paradox and were freed from the Summit demon's entwined fingers.

The next place only has a name of Peach Street because we bothered not to figure out just what town we were in.
We parked outside of a wine store which I would later enter with a 'fiver' between my forefingers in a black overcoat which could have doubled as a parachute.
hesitated not to ask to be shown around to see what kind of fine wines I could afford with my five dollars.

Now it was out to wander.
We started in a direction that most would consider 'the wrong way' it grew dim and slimey. textures and old buildings.. but also antique stores, thrift shops
and a smoke shop. The smoke shop was th only place open. We chatted a bit and explained our situation. Some people are very affectionate towards the event of meeting outsiders. Good friends to meet and people to be known as a landmark in case a return to any given place is taken up.
A dog proceeded to try and hump my leg which was fucking awful and annoying and we received advice on a good direction to go.

'Down one street and a few blocks to the left.'

Another building waiting for a headstone

Lovely lingerie in a Peach St front window that would sure to be something to ignite a reaction from your loved one.
Just what kind of reaction is your own fate.

A reason why I am more of a cat-person. Get the hell off me

LOCKED TRUNK

CLEVELAND

Cleveland: Creatures of Green and the Elephant Stampede:
"Dylan, what in the hell is going on??"
"I don't know Lee, I just don't know"
Lake Eerie was spacious and beautiful, still in present out the passenger's window.
We passed the handlebars of the bridge and entered into hordes of green people.
It was all too immediate, but wasn't to be the least of surprises within that hour of condensed moments.
Green people, everywhere.. what the hell!?

We'd quickly figured out that it was the seventeenth, St Patrick's Day. That, or the city we had stumbled across was full of very strange people (would would be just fine, really.) Cleveland, OH. My second time visiting this place, and Dylan's first.
An immediate U-turn was necessary. The streets were relentless in number and parking garages stuffed. The spring-break-drink-a-thon that the introduction of this writing stated abandonment of was now not just leering, but piercing with a concrete heavy stare into the fabric of our very being.
"Experience' was the agreed plan. There were old memories of perfect places to cheat the parking meters or pay booth, so we parked within those gates, brought musical instruments which proved no noise comparison to what we were about to hear, and headed this time by foot back over the handle bar bridge into the mouth of Cleveland.

Some of the nice people I'd ever met, in Cleveland. There was one lady that harassed Dylan at light night, guilting away his pocket change, but other than that, even the drunks were cheerful and bright characters to be around.

 (In the lowest sounding pitch possible)
"Vrreooohhhohhhhhhhhhh!!!!"
"What was that!?? "
(A pause, and then the same exact sound from a different direction.)
'I don't know, but there's more than one of them!"
The sound grew thicker and noise became a wall the further we had moved forward.
There were memories of pigeons wearing bread necklaces and singing street performers from my prior visit to this city, but now there were road blocks and these...
"Vrreooohhhohhhhhhhhhh!!!!"
these gargantuan sounds echoing off the concrete walls of the talls Cleveland centre buildings of grand architecture. 
Deep down, we knew it was St Patrick's Day drunkeness but a new and exciting adventure unfolded to the traveler's imagination. 


"Elephants!"
"Yeah, giant runaway elephants!"
A stampede of them.. Our light steps in a new city, blocked roads.. the sounds of shattering glass. Somehow it was all very plausible.
Vreoooohhhh!
Finally we had found the instrument of which this sound had come from. It was a green tube, a noisemaker like you would see at a soccer tournament to ragingly piss off the opposite team in distraction of them from scoring a goal. And now drunkards were allowed to obtain these very instruments, while we had nothing.. but our guitars.


The serenity of silence came as soon as the shop door closed. Guitars set down in the seats and up to the counter.. The friendliest bakery workers I'd ever met as I came inside from the friendliest rowdy drunks I'd ever seen.
Something besides gas station coffee initiated thrice the energy and amazement of cheerfulness. God, that gas station coffee was horrid but it wouldn't be soon until it'd be had once more so we sat down to enjoy the shelter from winds and mild suppression of Elephant sounds still heard muffled through the glass. Asking to use the bathroom, it was completely trashed and I knew not to take the blame for that. Somebody in the hallway to the bathroom had alcohol poisoning. Very soon the ambulance would come in through the store front, in which by that time we were both playing songs by request of one of the workers.
We'd left soon after with a donation of some money and donuts from the workers, and we discovered more alcohol catastrophe victimization, unfortunately.

WV

TO VIRG

Roadtime hysteria:
Like anybody who has driven countless hours straight, unto the blurry vision of the night time, for days straight... with oddities of sleep patterns, they too will know about road time hysteria.
We're both smelling like shit, driving a constant rate or 85 mph down roadways non distractedly changing CDs one after another and tuning into some of the most psychotic and entertaining baptist radio shows we were to ever be offered.
At one point I speed past some large signs.. my mind elsewhere at the time. Some sermon playing loudly, being told how much of a hopeless sinner I am. We're both very quickly submerged into cones deepening in count on either side of us, yet not slowing down at all.. The main traffic parts way to the right, we have the fuck of a slightest idea where we are going but I remain confident that I can keep going straight and get us back to the right direction. I sure as hell wasn't thinking about backing up into reverse for a half-mile straight,but I was also wondering if soon up ahead there would be some sort of drop off or discontinued road. We'll make it into a fine print obituary, with extra cans of tuna and sliced peaches gone uneaten. .Luckily, at 2AM I finally merged back onto the correct roadway.

 This park was amazing. It was so nice to be away from an area where a falling red stock arrow caused threat or harm. Streams turned into lakes the further the trails led. We had driven up the trails as far as we could get. I released myself from my atomic bomb stink shoes and we played guitars on the picnic tables nearside a stream. Many fishers were basking in the sun up to their high ankles in the creeks.

"You boy's helped me serenade this here fish!" A mustached fisherman joyfully said aloud to us as he walked past our path with a large.. what was it a trout, I don't recall.
Never before did either of us have the title of Serenader of Fish until this day.

SCRANTON

Each town has it's own character. A sole individual set in flesh that embodies the color and texture of that town they reside. It's like if these souls were to ever leave the town it wouldn't be any different than losing a grand monument or cherished historical memory. Our own town had the wandering teleporting Gypsy. We only'd thought he was teleporting because no matter which way one would travel, they'd seem to run into him at least twice. He also seemed to be on a constant lsd trip, whereas my entire observation of his every form of communication was done in voice impersonation and often seemed to be directed towards himself only. One day I had bumped into this figure on the street, the super market, the salvation army and the book store, thus the speculation of teleportation ability... Though this character had 'vanished' as of the last few years.

Towns like Scranton and Cleveland, Peach ST and many in between all had these diverse characters as well. Many of these memorable people are usually either vagrants or high hearted but normally lower class individuals. Some of the craziest and most story-worthy characters have the gutter to call their home but at the same rate, many of the most intelligent and wise characters I have met were also on this shit-end of the class-stick. 
There are different degrees of mental institutions that people are let out of and you run into these people all the time. One of these institutions are colleges where the accepted insanity is free to roam and the other institution is the mental institution where when some of these are closed down, they are forced onto the streets. Though you and I both know of the other diversities of institutions such as military or employment. the
'Hi-Guy' refers mainly to the mental area, and it is always harsh seeing people in this mentality thrown along the heavy stream of the rat race.
That being so, we'd have run into him dozens of times.. Each time we came across was our 'first time in meeting him' and we'd re-introduce ourselves kindly each time.
Blocks away, literally blocks away, if he spotted you.. "HIIIIiiiii" at as loud a pitch possible.
Town-greeter, replacement of church bells, this man was the landmark of a small town and a character you couldn't trade for any normal man. No, it really did beat a bland and blunt conversation over weather temperature.

I don't know why we smoked cigars upon this travel, but the winds were heavy and I
grabbed a local paper.

Letting our lower limbs rest, I cut out local faces of familiar performers and made stickers of them. Later some characters from the adult personals were to be immortalized in sticker form.

 It was carpel tunnel all for nothing. If I get to a library again soon I will try to remember the majority of what was written, but I don't think it'll matter much because this is neither pornography nor endless mystery.
Thanks, anyhow, to Blacksmith in Cleveland for being such a downright charismatic and gifting individual, and to my computer for being the biggest pile of shit that randomly deletes the majority of things I work on.

Anyhow, if you're looking for completed, well written travel stories you can check this link out
http://www.northbankfred.com/stories.html
My lack of sleep is growing into a dire conundrum and human interaction on a base level looks to be revolved around mellow hellos and how are is the weather or people trying to sexually stimulate themselves. The original full story was much funner to read than all this 'hooplah,' trust me.. I'll try to get to that again, and this time back up all the words before blogger.com digests them completely.