When I was 13 I was in love with Jack Kerouac (that's his quote from On the Road above)-- or at least my imagined idea of him- from many reports he wasn't exactly the catch I envisioned . He grew up in Lowell, Massachusetts close to where I was raised in New Hampshire yet managed to escape to a life of adventure, iconoclasm, and prolific creative output. I devoured his novels, intoxicated by his heady stream of consciousness writing and counting the days til I could begin my own nomadic wandering.
With Jack on my mind my husband, Little One and I recently took off on a road trip of our own. Dear friends of ours were moving from LA to Portland and asked if we would drive one of their cars north. They have a daughter of the same age as ours so we knew it work out well traveling caravan-style and following the babies' schedules. While not exactly Kerouac's benzene-fueled thrill ride (double lattes and acai energy drinks were our drugs of choice) the trip was a soul- (and belly) nourishing adventure-- a reminder of the importance of the journey over the destination.
We took it easy on the trip, stopping often to feed the babies, change diapers, stretch legs and enjoy some delicious off-the-beaten track meals. A few highlights if you find yourself hitting the road on the Pacific Coast anytime soon:
Humphrey Slocombe Ice Cream in San Francisco: handmade unusual ice cream and sorbets; everything from signature flavor "Secret Breakfast" (bourbon and corn flakes) to Szechuan Strawberry. Sal Paradise would approve.
Point Cabrillo Lighthouse near Mendocino: we stopped to stretch our legs and walk the dogs and were amazed by this working lighthouse on a cliff below which seals lay on the rocks. There are several charming Victorian houses, picnic tables and trails to walk along. We saw deer grazing in the tall grass and played in a field of dandelions with the babies.
Restaurant 301 at the Carter House Inn in Eureka: somehow this lovely restaurant did not mind that we arrived at nearly 10pm dressed in hoodies with babies in tow delirious with hunger after hours and hours on the road. The wine list alone made us dizzy. We had to eat in shifts (mamas fed the babes in the beautiful parlor while the papas ate, then the papas took over so the mamas could enjoy) but I would go to far greater lengths to enjoy steak like that again.
The Carson
Mansion in Eureka: we passed by this bit of Victorian grotesquerie while we went in search of dinner after a very long drive. It looked haunted and inviting at once against a starless coastal sky.Jamison Park in Portland: the spot to be with kids in PDX. There's an awesome water feature and Cool Moon Creamery for ice cream right across the street.
Of course these are just suggestions and I know when we do the trip again we'll find all new hidden gems. The road trip is the perfect living metaphor for how I want to live and what Kerouac enlivened within me years ago: the knowledge that the journey is the thing-- being awake and open to every new place and moment, not attached to where you wind up, but alive to everything you see and feel along the way.
