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    On the Road
    by Jack Kerouac
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    Blue Highways: A Journey into America
    by William Least Heat-Moon

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Entries in road trip (321)

Tuesday
Oct192010

Blue Highways: Newberry, South Carolina

Unfolding the Map

Click on Thumbnail for MapHeading through Newberry, South Carolina with William Least Heat-Moon (LHM), and ruminating about kudzu and other invasive species that afflict our native environment throughout the United States.  To learn where Newberry is situated, click the map thumbnail.

Book Quote

"In the sunny flats, kudzu from last year had climbed to wrap trees and telephone poles in dry, brown leaves.  Whole buildings looked as if they had been bagged.  Introduced from Japan in the thirties to help control erosion that had damaged eighty-five percent of the tillable land, kudzu has consumed entire fields, and no one has found a good way to stop it.  Kudzu and water hyacinth, another Japanese import, have run through Dixie showing less restraint than Sherman.

"The heat held until sundown in Newberry.  There, wearied from the eighty-five degrees, the glare, the racket of wind, I stopped.  Newberry was a town of last-century buildings, old trees, columned houses with cast-iron fences, and gardens behind low brick walls.  A lacy town.  Old people moved along old sidewalks or pulled at greenery in old flowerbeds; they sat on old porches and shook the evening paper into obedience, or they rocked steady as old pendulums and looked into the old street as if reading something there.  Living out the end of an era."

Blue Highways: Part 2, Chapter 14


A street in Newberry, South Carolina

Newberry, South Carolina

I had not intended to use this post as a plea for being conscious of native environments, but the first part of the quote above, where LHM writes about kudzu as he drives toward Newberry, South Carolina, has gotten me thinking about it.  It was also on my mind as I watched some workers attempt to remove ivy along the side of a building opposite to where I work - it took them about a month to do so.

If you have not been to the South, you probably have not seen kudzu overwhelming the natural features of the landscape.  Kudzu was first introduced to the U.S. from Japan in 1876 at the Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia.  Farmers were eventually encouraged in the 1930s to plant it to help control soil erosion.  Unfortunately, not much thought was given to introducing a plant to an environment where it had no natural checks.  The plant spread prolifically.  By the time LHM was traveling through, he was able to note its omnipresence.  The plant is harmful particularly because it grows so thick it chokes out native vegetation.  It can grow so thick up a tree that the sheer weight of it can actually uproot the tree.  It can grow 100 feet a day, and though there have been efforts to find a biological agent to control it, these efforts have not yielded much success.  The best way to remove it is labor intensive, and involves cutting the plant out completely by the roots and then mowing every month over two growing seasons.  Needless to say, the costs to the environment are the loss of native plants that sustain native animal populations.

Water hyacinth is another Southern invasive species that is native to South America.  It is sort of like an aquatic kudzu, with no natural checks on its growth.  Blanketing water, it blocks out sunlight that feeds other, native aquatic plants and starves the water of oxygen which kills native fish and other aquatic wildlife.  It is not only a pest in the South - whole portions of Lake Victoria in Africa have been choked off by the plant which was probably introduced by traveling horticulturists sometime in the 1800s.

In my own experience growing up in California, I am aware that many times the invasive species are introduced with the best of intentions.  Whole sections of coastline in Northern California are blanketed with ice plant, which was introduced with the intention of stabilizing railroad beds, and later highway verges.  However, it is easily spread through its prolific seeds, and through rat feces.  I remember marveling at its beautiful flowers, but where there might be coastal grasses, there is now only the iceplant along the edges of the cliffs where I grew up.  Similarly, every summer I enjoyed picking blackberries.  It turns out the blackberries I picked, and which we made into jams, were of the non-native Himalaya variety, which grows thick and pushes out native vegetation.

My wife is affected by an invasive species, and not of the plant variety.  She has to carry an Epi-Pen, a self-administered shot of epenephrine, around with her when she is in areas that are known to have fire ants.  These little ants, a cross between a South American ant and one native to the U.S., are found all over the Southern U.S.  They are extremely aggressive when their nests are disturbed, and swarm and sting.  They actually coordinate their stings so that multiple ants will sting at once.  Their sting contains a poison, the only ant in North America to have a poison, that will send my wife into a severe allergic reaction if she gets stung.  Efforts to eradicate this ant were somewhat successful during the years that DDT was used as a pesticide, but not any more.  Currently there are some experiments with the phorid fly, a small fly that constitutes the ant's only known enemy - it swoops down on the ant and implants its egg within the ant.  When the egg hatches, the ant dies.  It doesn't eradicate them completely, but it discourages them from spreading over a wide area.  However, this solution brings in another species that is not native to the U.S., and who knows what effects that will have?

So, eradicating non-native species and nurturing native plants and animals is important.  Upsetting the balance has effects throughout the environment and the ecological system.  Be careful when planting and try to plant native species, and maybe even join efforts to help eradicate non-native trees and other plants.  Your environment, and perhaps even Newberry if you can get rid of their kudzu, water hyacinths, and fire ants, will thank you!

If you want to know more about Newberry

City of Newberry
Newberry College
Newberry County
Newberry Observer (newspaper)
Newberry Opera House
Wikipedia: Newberry

Next up: Old Ninety-Six, South Carolina

Monday
Oct112010

Blue Highways: Darlington, South Carolina

Unfolding the Map

Click on Thumbnail for Map"Drivin' into Darlington County..." sings Bruce Springsteen.  We drive into Darlington County with William Least Heat-Moon (LHM) and confront a man's peaceful contemplation of his own mortality.  Wish I had that kind of peace of mind.  To contemplate where Darlington is in our journey, click on the thumbnail of the map, and leave a comment if you have a way you face your own mortality.

Book Quote

"'Travelin' alone!  Ever ascared alone?'  I shrugged.  'Me, I ain't never ascared,' he said.  'Looky here.'  From his left breast pocket, he took a worn bullet: a .22 long rifle.  'I carried a live forty-five round in the war and never got shot by friend or foe.  Always carry me a round over my heart, and ain't never ascared because I know when I die it's agonna be from this.  And quick.  Lord'll see to that -- when it's my time.'

"'You mean you'll put it in a gun and shoot yourself?'

"'It's a sin to do that, ain't it now?'  He waited for an answer.

"'I've heard that's the case.'

"'Nope, this here little lady will go off by herself some way or t'other.  When it's my time.  Won't know it neither.'

"'What if it goes off by accident before it's your time?'

"'You ain't alistenin'.  Ain't no accidents in the Lord's Plan.  When she pops off, my ticket's agettin' punched.  Oughter get yourself one.  They make a man right peaceful.'"

Blue Highways: Part 2, Chapter 14

 

County Courthouse: Darlington, South Carolina

Darlington, South Carolina

Every week, I read a website called "Badass of the Week."  I don't know why I like it, other than that every time I read it, I learn something about some person in history.  It might be someone whose name I know but didn't know much about them.  Sometimes it's someone completely new to me.  Regardless, I learn new things, which is the hallmark of a good website.

The reason I'm not sure why I like it is because of how its written.  As you can see from my "About Me" page, I am a PhD in Political Science.  I have pretty cultivated tastes in literature, the arts and other "highbrow" types of things.  But for the life of me, if I want to, I can laugh heartily at a fart joke just like anybody.  I love slapstick comedy.  I have a sense of the absurd.  And "Badass of the Week" fits all of that.  It is written in a juvenile fashion, with lines about some person's "titanium plated testicles" and things like that.  It is so completely juvenile that I find myself laughing both with genuine amusement and with a slight sense of guilt that I am laughing.

The reason I mention this, is because I would classify the guy in LHM's quote above as a badass.  Here's a guy who not only has carried a bullet around in his breast pocket for years, but is fully convinced that if the bullet goes off next to his heart, that it's his time to go.

When I was young, and hunting with my father, I didn't realize just how dangerous bullets in themselves are.  He never bothered to explain that to me.  I thought that the only way a bullet could go off is if you put it physically in the gun and pulled the trigger to release the hammer and set off the gunpowder reaction.  So I was pretty careless about bullets.  I remember dropping them once in a while and not thinking anything of it.

The first time I understood how dangerous that could be was when I watched a movie titled Hope and Glory.  It was about kids in wartime England during the Blitz, and in one scene, a couple of kids threaten a third by holding his head in the potential path of a bullet that was clamped in a vice at the end of a table.  The one kid was threatening to hit the back of the bullet with a hammer.  It then clicked into me that any sharp blow to the base of a bullet chamber, whether in the gun or not, could cause the bullet to fire.

And here's a guy, carrying it around in his breast pocket, fully convinced that it will eventually be the bringer of his doom when his time is up.  And he's okay with it.  When LHM suggests that it could go off by accident, and that might be before his time is up, he is perfectly content with the idea that any time the bullet goes off is the right time, because the Lord wills it so.

On one hand, it makes one crazy.  My reaction would be to just get rid of the bullet - why tie your doom to an object that you keep with you?  Why not just accept that your life could end naturally, or because you weren't looking while crossing the street and walked into the path of a semi-truck, or that a freak lightning bolt struck the tree you were sheltering under?  But that's because ultimately, I'm afraid of death.  But this man feels in control.  He knows what will end his life, more than likely, and he's not afraid of it - not one bit.  In my mind, that makes him a badass.

On another brief topic, Darlington was the subject of a Bruce Springsteen song from his Born in the USA album.  I remember mid-1980s evenings at a Milwaukee pub, O'Donoghues, where Jimmy the bartender loved it when we played music, and we played a lot of songs from the Born in the USA album, including Darlington County.  I share it with you here.

 

 

If you want to know more about Darlington

City of Darlington
Darlington County
Darlington News and Press (newspaper)
Darlington Raceway (home of NASCAR Southern 500)
PeeDee Foodie (blog post on a Darlington restaurant)
Visit Darlington County
Wikipedia: Darlington
Wikipedia: Darlington County

Next up: Newberry, South Carolina

Friday
Oct082010

Blue Highways: Tomahawk, White Lake, Elizabethtown and Lumberton, North Carolina

Unfolding the Map

Click on Thumbnail for MapWe finally make a last push out of North Carolina with William Least Heat-Moon (LHM).  Seems like we've been there forever, doesn't it?  Now we head into South Carolina and whatever that will bring us.  Click on the map thumbnail to see our current path, and leave a comment if you wish.  It would be good to know some of you out there are reading!

Book Quote

"Since daylight I'd been hunting a good three- or four-calendar cafe.  Nothing in Tomahawk or White Lake.  Elizabethtown, no.  I crossed the Cape Fear River, looked in Lumberton, and found nothing right."

Blue Highways: Part 2, Chapter 14

 

 

Lumberton, North Carolina

Tomahawk, White Lake, Elizabethtown and Lumberton, North Carolina

Sometimes, you just want to find the right kind of food.  As we know from a previous post, LHM has this system of rating the quality of cafes and diners in small town.  The higher the number of calendars on the wall, the better they are, according to his equation.

I am usually willing to put up with some inconvenience if I go to a restaurant or a cafe or diner in a small town, but some things really frustrate me.  One thing that is incredibly vexing is when diners or cafes do not accept credit cards.  Here is why it is frustrating.  In this world of instant credit, I do not carry cash.  I find cash usually to be cumbersome...it fills my wallet and makes this huge thing in my back pocket that puts my butt to sleep when I sit on it.  Besides, not carrying cash is more safe.  If I lose my wallet, then it's a hassle to cancel credit cards but I have a better chance of not losing any money.  So I carry a debit card to pay for my purchases.

However, I've run into many small businesses that don't take credit cards.  I understand their reasons.  First, the credit card company charges money.  I understand that there is additional bookkeeping to be kept, that there is a monthly fee for connecting to the credit processing company, and that there may even be a per-charge fee.  I understand that these might be difficult.

But here's the situation in the modern-day United States.  More and more people are like me.  They don't carry cash.  If you are a small business, you will lose customers.  What's worse?  Paying a small charge or losing a $30-40 sale?  And if one is traveling overseas, credit cards are even more essential.  With a credit card, you can bypass long lines at banks to cash travelers' cheques, you can use them to get cash if you absolutely need it, and every transaction is at the most current exchange rate.

I had a recent experience in Willits, California when my wife and I went out to the coast to visit my mom, we stopped in at a deli featuring natural organic food.  We ordered our lunches for ourselves and my mom, who was with us.  The bill was around $35.  We went to pay - they didn't accept credit cards.  The sign they had announcing this was not very prominent.  There was no branch of our bank in town, so we were stuck using the ATM they had conveniently put in the restaurant.  The problem was that the ATM charged us about $4 for the transaction, and of course our bank charged us also because we weren't using one of their machines.  If, when we found out that they didn't take credit cards, we hadn't been in a hurry and had other options, we would have canceled our order.  They would have been out our $35 order because they didn't accept credit cards.  Maybe they didn't care, and maybe they didn't patronize the credit card companies on principle...but if I were a small business owner I might.

I wish there were other alternatives to giant credit card companies.  They have been one of the reasons that people in the United States and other countries have gotten into massive debt that they cannot repay.  This in turn has helped fuel the recession.  I get it.  I am all for local banks, and using cash as much as possible.  But they are convenient, especially when I'm traveling.

Of course, when LHM wrote, credit card use was not as extensive as it is today.  People carried cash and travelers' cheques when traveling.  So, he probably did not need to bother to look, as he searched for cafes in Tomahawk, White Lake, Elizabethrown and Lumberton, to see if the doorways of the diners and restaurants had the Visa/Mastercard/Discover/American Express stickers, or if he saw a credit card reader next to the cash register.  But he were traveling today, in addition to trying to find a three- to four-calendar cafe, he might have found that he would pass some up because he didn't have enough cash, and they didn't take credit cards.  In these days, restaurants that choose not to take credit cards just might be foregoing some business.

If you want to know more about Tomahawk, White Lake, Elizabethtown and Lumberton

Sorry folks, there isn't much on Tomahawk, but I have included links to information on all the other towns.

The Bladen Journal (Elizabethtown newspaper)
City of Lumberton
Elizabethtown-White Lake Chamber of Commerce
Lumberton Area Visitors Bureau
The Robesonian (Lumberton newspaper)
White Lake
White Lake Photo Gallery
Wikipedia: Elizabethtown
Wikipedia: Lumberton
Wikipedia: White Lake

Next up:  Darlington, South Carolina

Wednesday
Oct062010

Blue Highways: Wallace, North Carolina

Unfolding the Map

Click on Thumbnail for MapContinuing south with William Least Heat-Moon, we traverse through North Carolina to the town of Wallace where a bunch of young boys tell him what can be done in town.  Click on the map to see where Wallace is located, and leave a comment...did you grow up in a small town, and what did you do for fun?

Book Quote

"In a parking lot, six boys squatted about a Harley-Davidson and talked as they passed a can of beer.  But for the outward trappings, they might have been Bedouins around the evening campfire.  I asked one wearing a BORN TO RAISE HELL T-shirt what there was to do on Friday night. 'Here?'  Everybody laughed.  'You got yourself a choice.  You can watch the electric buglight at DQ.  That's one.  Or you can hustle up a sixpack and cruise the strip.  That's two.  And three is your left hand, a boy's best friend.

'Maybe there's a tent revival or something like that.'

'Hey!  How do you revive the dead?'"

Blue Highways: Part 2, Chapter 13


Town clock in Wallace, North Carolina

Wallace, North Carolina

As I was growing up, the place where I lived was full of wonder.  I must admit I grew up in one of the most beautiful areas possible to grow up - a small town on the coast of Northern California.  Drive a mile west from my house and I was at the ocean, where depending on the time of day I could watch tide ebb and flow, fishing boats sail by, the sun set, or the moon softly lay a silver path to the horizon.  I could see a squall roar in from the northwest, or watch the sun glint off gentle whitecaps.

Drive a half hour east, and I would be in the middle of redwood forest.  Though logged for timber, at that age, it seemed like the forest went on forever in an unbroken expanse.  In the mornings, the trees made their own fog that allowed water to collect on their leaves and drip into the soft, moist loam made of dead leaves that accumulated under their huge trunks.  During the day, sunlight filtered through the green leaves above, and dappled the forest floor with diffuse light.  Occasionally, one would see evidence of wildlife, or even the wildlife itself.

It was truly magical for a young boy, but as the young boy became an adolescent these beauties became gradually lost upon me.  I was more interested in things in the town.  And to tell you the truth, in a small town in Northern California, there wasn't much to do.  Girls were always of interest, and alcohol helped get the girls.  But almost like India, or England, my town had social strata or castes in the form of cliques among young people.  You were separated from other young people by your high school class.  Within your high school class, you were separated from others by whether you belonged to the highest grouping known as the "jocks" or whether you were a loser, or a burnout, or something else.  The one thing we all had in common was alcohol and drugs.  Okay, and being a guy, guys had the guy's best friend in common.  That was our left (or right) hand, utilized often by adolescent males especially when one was not very successful with the girls.  And I wasn't very successful with the girls, so draw your own conclusions.

In other words, I can relate with the guys in Wallace, North Carolina that LHM happens upon.  My town, when I grew up, had maybe three stoplights.  The number of stoplights has doubled today, but I'm sure that the malaise that existed for young people probably still exists.  Like the kids in Wallace, we used to cruise the strip, which I began to think was really silly because what was there to see?  Just other kids cruising too, and we always saw them in school.

Sometimes, a party would be thrown when some kid's poor, unsuspecting parents went out of town.  Sometimes, the party would happen whether that kid wanted a party or not.  Usually, the house would end up trashed...things would be broken or alcohol spilled into carpets.  The stale smell of day old marijuana smoke that settled on the carpet and drapes would permeate the nostrils of the parents as they came back from their trip and opened the door.  Often the smoke mingled with the more acrid and pungent odor of vomit left by some kid who drank too much, still strong despite the kid's frantic attempts to clean the house before the parents came home.  These parties could be massive affairs, with about a hundred kids descending on the house, along with some people in their twenties who had nothing better to do and no lives to speak of.

When house parties weren't available, we might take a drive to the gravel pits, or out somewhere in the woods, to find a spot and drink and party.  Yes, drinking and driving happened a lot among the youth of my town, and that meant that more than one of us died at the wheel.

This was part of a broader undercurrent of problems.  The behavior of kids often mirrors the behavior of their parents.  My town was a working class, blue collar town full of working men and women.  It was like most American towns, probably a lot like Wallace.  Many of the men, and a lot of the women, concealed by their industrious day work dark secrets at home such as alcoholism, depression, anger, and various forms of domestic violence and abuse.  I don't want to paint my whole town that way, but there was a dark undercurrent there.  Many old friends that I've spoken to in later years confirm that they or people they knew had difficult lives and difficult obstacles to overcome.  The behaviors that we participated in was partly a reflection of our home lives, and partly a function of there not being enough for young people to do in our small town.

I'm sure that my experience as a young person in a small town is echoed all over the United States.  It is not an isolated experience.  If the answer of the young men in Wallace to LHM's query about something to do there is any indication, such conditions transcend time and space.  And lest anyone think it is a failing of small towns, I think that a large contributor to the adolescent malaise that leads to such behavior is simply the adolescent mind itself, trying to break out of the conventions imposed by family and society, or trying to escape from difficult situations in the family, and not knowing where to go.

If you want to know more about Wallace

Duplin County, North Carolina
Town of Wallace
Wallace Enterprise (newspaper)
Wallace Restaurants
Wikipedia: Duplin County
Wikipedia: Wallace

Next up: Tomahawk, White Lake, Elizabethtown and Lumberton, North Carolina

Monday
Oct042010

Blue Highways: New Bern, North Carolina

Unfolding the Map

Click on Thumbnail for MapWe ride a ferry with William Least Heat-Moon (LHM) to New Bern, a place where an invention by a pharmacist has repercussions for all of our health, dental hygiene, and Super Bowl entertainment during time-outs.  Click on the map to orient yourselves, and leave a comment if you'd like - you're always welcome to do so.

Book Quote

"I didn't want to drive the route I'd come the day before, so I headed toward the free ferry across the Pamlico River above where it enters the sound. Two hours later, the ferry, with a loud reversing of props, banged into the slip; three of us drove aboard, and we left in an uproar of engines, water, diesel exhaust, and birds. Laughing gulls materialized from the air to hang above the prop wash and shriek their maniacal laugh (Whitman thought it nearly human) as they dropped like stones from twenty feet into the cold salt scuds; some entered beak first, some with wings akilter, but all followed the first to see an edible morsel, real or imagined.

"New Bern, on the Neuse River, was well-preserved antebellum Georgian houses....as railroads deveoped in North Carolina, New Bern lost its importance as a port city, and "progress"came slower, the old ways remained longer....As a result, New Bern is an architecturally interesting city where the Old South still shows on the streets rather than in a museum."

Blue Highways: Part 2, Chapter 13


Postcard of New Bern, North Carolina

New Bern, North Carolina

Your fun fact about New Bern for today.  New Bern is the place where Pepsi Cola was created.  Why is this important to me?  First of all, I work on the campus of the University of New Mexico, which evidently has granted some kind of franchise rights to Pepsi.  If you go to a place on campus that sells food, or if you go to any of the campus stores, all you can get is Pepsi.

Second, because of this, I probably drink a Pepsi a day.  Besides black tea sodas are the only way I get any caffeine.  My wife thinks I am a communist or at least un-American because I never developed a taste for coffee.  However, sodas are bad enough.  The last time I had blood work done, my blood sugar was a little high.  I need to cut down on the sugar, but having that can of Pepsi seems to keep me going in the afternoon.

Third, I don't even really like Pepsi all that much.  If I drink a soda, I prefer a regular Coke.  But when Pepsi is all you can get, you take Pepsi.  So I drink Pepsi, and my blood sugar rises.  Thanks, Caleb Bradham.  Pepsi was created by Mr. Bradham in New Bern at his pharmacy and fountain in 1898.  Originally known simply as "Brad's Drink," it was renamed Pepsi Cola possibly because of the pepsin and kola nut in the original recipe.  Either that or it was supposed to give one pep, as Bradham sought to create an invigorating drink that would aid in digestion.  You have to love the first celebrity endorsement by race car pioneer Barney Oldfield, who enthusiastically pitched Pepsi as "a bully drink...refreshing, invigorating, a fine bracer before a race."  Can't you just see someone saying that?  It's a long way from where we've come in advertising, where a "bully drink" ad evolves over time into a 1980s commercial Michael Jackson meeting a pint-sized imitator on an inner-city street (he also filmed another Pepsi commercial in 1984 where his hair caught on fire which injured him badly) and the more current commercial where Coke and Pepsi deliverymen fight in a diner.

Just writing this makes me think that I'm going to quit soda altogether for awhile.

As for LHM's quote above, I really like his description of the ferry ride across the Pamlico River.  I absolutely love river ferries.  I hadn't really thought about them before I lived in New Orleans.  My wife and I would occasionally have the opportunity to ride the ferry across from downtown New Orleans to the Algiers neighborhood across the Mississippi.  On the ferry, one gets a new perspective of the city.  On the ferry, I felt the power of the river as the ferry strained against the current.  The air was always cooler down on the river, and the buildings of downtown took on a new significance as the ferry pulled away from the dock.  Occasionally, a ship or barge passed by - the oceangoing ships rising stories above us as their powerful engines propelled them upstream or gliding silently as they rode the current downstream, or barges low on the water but taking forever to pass by, their pilot boats emitting a steady engine noise as they passed by.  We'd pass by debris floating on the water, brought from who knows where and going to places unknown.  And of course, there were the gulls, their cries still audible above the engine's low rumble. 

Ferry rides always brought me into reflective moments, broken only as the engines revved the ferry into place at the dock, and we walked to our car to wait for the signal to debark.  On misty nights, when the ferry would cross the river to where we waited, you could see nothing except faint lights growing brighter and brighter until, almost like a ghost, the ferry would, almost quietly and daintily, slip into place and lower its gate.  The boathand opening the barrier, his hoodie pulled up over his head, seemed otherworldly, like Charon himself beckoning with a sweep of his hand our souls' passage into another world.

If you want to know more about New Bern

Atlanta Journal-Constitution article on New Bern
City of New Bern
IndieRegister.com (alternative newspaper)
NewBern.com
New Bern Convention and Visitors Bureau
New Bern Sun Journal (newspaper)
Our New Bern (blog)
Tryon Palace Historic Sites and Gardens
Wikipedia: New Bern

Next up: Wallace, North Carolina