desert, sixth day

In my night drive, I had unknowingly crossed a threshold, until now I have always driven in busy roads with lots of vehicles around and urban and suburban areas, east Texas was not different. But today as I rejoined the I-10 around miles 450 I found myself in a different universe altogether: sparse cars on the highway, but above all I was now surrounded by a sort of desert landscape, not like the Sarah, but a desert made of shrubs and weed. The bright green of southern Louisiana had given way to darker tonalities. Finally the west I thought, another signs told me of the changed universe, in Mississippi and Louisiana, as part of the southern symbolic order I had noticed the many sport motorbikes, here they have disappeared and a different masculinity has taken that space, that of the Harley and cruiser drivers, the stereotype of the American biker.

Speed limit on the highway is 80 miles/hour, about 135 km/h finally I can boost the engine above the 3000 revs and enjoy a decent European speed. However, yesterday drive off the highway has taught me something. With a European and East Coast reflex I assumed that if you need to travel fast you need to use the highway, however, in Texas limits on State roads are very similar to highway one. Thus, in my way towards a more northern route I design a journey that takes me off the highway. Thus after about 200 miles on the I-10 I get the 285 and I will follow it the entire day, for 600 miles, up to Santa Fe and beyond.

The desert areas is not a flat or homogenous, one stretch of 20 miles follows another, you get to the next valley and there is another one, and then the next, and it seems to be never ending. Disconcerting. And you turn around and for an entire day you see nothing else than this mighty drought. And they fought a war with Mexico for Texas.... I cannot imagine how the pioneers must have felt in their caravans and their trailers. I remember one of the scenes of the Grapes of Wraths, the movie, when they finally see California, but at least they knew it was there. The pioneer must have felt in a sort of desperate repetition.

In a desertic area in Texas what you expect to see? the oil wells, the long trains. Nothing. I drive and drive they are not there. A strong wind is coming from west, the sky at least is changing. Windmills for production of electricity far in the horizon, irony of fate?

When I leave I-10 I finally see them the oil wells, one, than another, than many, not the plantations like in James Dean The Giant, but tens and tens. The first inhabited place on the 285 is Pecos, from the river I believe home town of Pecos Bill, and home of the first rodeo. I stop at the local museum. It is an ex saloon right at the crossing between the main road and the railway. A man has been shot at the entrance and a plaque records it.

As I travel North, I see the desert changing several times around me. First it was a high shrubs, and green weed, the shrubs shrank with the miles north, and the green is substituted by a yellow straw. A sort of cactus, that look like a submarine branched seeweed has taken the place of the shrubs, for 50 miles, or a 100, then disappears. Men's places look destitute, the last city in Texas, Roswell, or was it Carlsbad?, is full of ET shops and places, and inflatables green mans are sold in shops. The aliens are from here. When I enter New Mexico a sing say, "extreme fire danger"The wind blows strong, rolls of dried shrubs cross the road. So this is the land of the bull. Probably, Millions of them, they would move from one valley to the next. Now here and there small groups of cows stand accross the barbed wire, a cult object in this area, in the museums they had collections of the various sorts. Caws however look disconcerted in the vastness and often they look across to the passing cars. How do they feel?

Desert brings me luck, a long long train proceeds slow, two locomotives on both ends, another one of those cult images of America.

As I approach the Santa Fe, I realize with some regret that I will soon change environment, back to human and to the mountains. We travel too fast, the odometer tells me, I have passed the three thousands miles since my departure from Farmington, CT.

I arrive to Santa Fe through the Old Pecos Trail. It is a lovely centre, well maintained with its architectural style.

The rocking chair, south fifth day

The way from New Orleans to wetern Louisiana and then into Texas is for the most part a huge swamp area. You basically travel on water. Actually very first thing in the morning I clean the car, away with the dirt left over from the snowy day on the East, here we start gettting really West.

The I 10 follows, at a certain distance the river Mississipi and finally crosses it. Then the long drive on the swamp towards Texas. I stop at a welcome center and I see it. The icon of the South, The Rocking Chair, they stand there as an emblem, I cannot resist sitting. Actually this reminds me of a verb in sicilian dialect, one of those words that havce crossed over to Italian, "annacare" usually usued in the reflexive "annacarsi", the translation would be actually "rocking oneself". Funny how the connotations of Southern lifestile has similarities accross the ocean.

The temperature has risen and I need my air conditioning on to keep driving. I do not have trousers for this weather, I will need to stop by and get one pairs of jeans or something.

This morning, day sixth, I wake up in Junction, check the engine oil, and here I am as I write this. The sky is clouded and the wind, a costant presence is fresh.

the starry sky above me, horse powers below me, fifth day, two

After Austin I set off west again on the 290 towards Junction a town some 150 miles down the line, back on the I-10. I rented a cheap room there, chosing randomly a place along the road. The guy on the phone tells me that he will close office and leave my room open, keys inside and tv on, I can pay tomorrow. It is dark, outside Austin cars disappeared and I am alone with the road, speed limits are good, long stretches at 65 m/h slower at the urban centres. I switch off the radio and enjoy the car engine and the way it stays on the road on a relatively curvy road. High beam on, you drive gretly on these roads filled with refracting elements that tells you clearly the limits of the lines. Around me the dark landscape, when is the last time I drove in such darkness? Above me a sky full of stars nothwithstanding a bright half moon. At one point I would want a Dire Straits cd for the last 45 minutes drive. Junction is actually filled with cheap motels. I arrive at mine, quite exausthed, I did more than 600 miles today. My room is open, the tv set is on Fox News, ranting about Obama's socialism, we are in Texas.

Burger in Austin, fifth day, one

Writing as i wait for my burger to arrive. 500 miles, I have stopped in Austin to have a look at the city and have a burger in Texas, seems to be the right thing. Pineapple burger, finger crossed. The I-10 is infinite, when you enter Texas, it says 880 miles, probably to El Paso. Sounded dull to drive all day on it. When I got to Houston I decided to make a detour, if one has to drive all day, wants also to get away from the motorway, thus I turned to Route 290 that takes to Austin, and later rejoins the I-10: it was the right decision, the road is pleasant and you get to see ranches, and cattle, and some sort of life. The most picturesque was a little village called Carmine, one could imagine nice stories from this typical Neapolitan first name. It was just few houses and small shops, not in very good shapes,on both sides of the road. I need to stop in one of those places one of these days.
If Houston is incredible because you see the city scape from something like 40 miles away, arriving in Austin from the 290 you first get to a large plain, that extends as far as you can see, but the city is actually not in sight, it is only when you take a speedway ramp that seems like you are at the Roller Coaster and when you are up and turning you see the city. Downtown is lively and studentish, the architecture is somehow majestuose, with the capital building standing at the end of Congress street.
Here is my burger, write to you later, folks.

Graceland - New Orleans, fourth day

On the motel tv set, on TMC (turner classic movies, needless to say, one of my favourite channels) they give an evening of Hurricane movies, now a John Houston one with Humphrey Bogart, perfect for falling asleep in New Orleans I suppose.

Graceland, Elvis' home, was a surprise, the house lies on the left handside of the route 51 going southwards out of Menphis towards the south, somehow a location that resume Elvis relationship with the musical world of the US. It is a normal route, with gas stations and tires stores, now it is called Elvis Priesley Bd. The property is just on the road the mansion just few tens of yards from traffic.

Graceland museum's stuff, regretfully, is not a bunch of Elvis' replicas, it is very professional and is composed for 90% of african american people. The house, is a large mansion, but not a gigantic villa with forty bedroom. The swimming pool is just an ordinary middle class one. On the ground floor, near the kitchen and the sitting room, the room where his parents slept. The basement and a dependance where probably they spent most of their days. The decorations in true 70s style are worthed the visit. No access to the private rooms upstairs. The collection of outfits is also very interesting as they span from the fifties to the seventies. I should get one of those to drive to LA...

On to the other side of the road where the parking and shops are I get myself a keyholder for my keyset, and a Peanut-Butter and Banana Toast, the one HE was addicted to. It does not taste bad.

stomach and eyes filled, time to drive off. Direction south on the Interstate 55 from Tennesse, across Mississipi and to Louisiana

In Menphis there is still quite lots of snow and is quite cold. Only 50 miles south, however, one enters Mississipi the climate change; for the first time I do not need any heater in the car. North Mississipi, along the I-55, is a vast damp area, one would just expect to see some prison inmates and the dogs chasing them, out of some of those classic movie scenes. It goes on and on.

On the phone I get directions for a AAA office on my way, just north of Jackson, right on the 55. How to find a place in a shopping area? Not everything is listed in those big panels at the entrance. I drive and drive around but could not find it. In the end I ask and finally I find it. Cars or Pedestrians, in the end one need the address. From a lively white haired Mississipi Boy (his own definition) I got maps, guides and many advices for the second part of my trip. But of this I will talk in another post.

Southern Mississipi is a bit more civilized, one sees cattles and crops, I get to Louisiana that light is fading away. Approaching the New Orleans area is amazing, the motorways runs on pilons on a vast area of shallow water and mud. The sunset is a colourful one.

Driving throughNew Orleans one passes just over the dome, one of those sights that is now in everybody's memory. Downtown or the little I have seen in one evening, Canal Street and a section of the French Neighborhood bears no signs of Katrina and has a very cool atmosphere.

on The King's road, third day

I suppose the key moment of today was driving in the sunset with my red coupé on the same road Elvis used to drive in his gold cadillac on his way back home from recording in Nashville. In Nashville I bought a couple of CDs (no mp3 in the davidemobile) and I listened to Elvis' songs all the way. On the east coast there is a very bad snow storm with about 10" of snow, but today I drove all day in the sunshine. Tennessee is a long orizontal quadrangolar state and I made it from one end to the next. On my way back from the motel in Bridgesport to the 81 I stopped at a Mitsubishi service and asked a machanic to look at the front right light that yesterday evening worked only partially. Talking with a very strong accent that needed all my attention he showd me how that it was only a contact and sent me off, very cool.

Direction Nashville, the land continue to be moved by the Appalachian, thus lots of curves and in certain points it would be good to be on a motorbike. I stop at my one thousandth mile to celebrate, not much around, few miles before had passed a Tennessee Ranch, with caws and pick up.

At the gas station, the lady, as if we were in a movie, told me that "restroom are at the back". Entering in the urban area, a great luminous panel warns you "12 millions illegal immigrants" , "11 millions american unemployed", "anyone sees a solution here?" Brrr, also at the periphery of cities there are the monumental crosses of baptist churches. Downtown Nashville looks very beautiful as you approach it. There are dozens of parkings so leaving the car is not a problem.

Walking finally, circulation for the legs, On Broadway are located the tourist shops and the Music Bars. The tour to the historical RCA studio B starts at 2 30, I join, I am on the bus with 2 couples from London, England and a guy from NY. Look at the driver's hair on the driver's mirror

The studio has been dismissed in 1977, by coincidence the next day after Elvis's death, maybe for this reason as been preserved and has become a tourist site and a recording facility for a nearby university. Country music from the 50s and 60s was recorded here. It is called B because they had such a success that they built a larger one, studio A, However, this remained Elvis favorite studio, I learn; when recording he wanted everybody to be in good mood, and made sure the right atmosphere was there before starting working. Quite different from the business today. There is the piano, Elvis, of course, loved to play.

I choose one of the bars on Broadway to listen to some music live, The Stage. They are playing good music. Inside is quite a scene, the owner was a collector of music memorabilia. There are autographed guitars hanging around. Mirrors in the bathroom are the ultimate country experience.

Customers include what you would expect, the couple near me are very tacky, both around 50, he wears a bird and a motorcycle jacket, she a blue top tightened on the back like the one her mother probably used to dress her in. They drink their first shot arms entwined. On the back of the menu I learn about the place, they played even during the curfew following the assassination of Marthin Luther King. What is the politics of country music? Of the Nashville sound? in the hall of fame of studio B they had the picture of a black singer, a fig leaf? Lots of questions. Time to leave anyway. I should by Menphis before too late in the evening.

through the snow storm to the American Way

second day, overnight some snow has dropped on the car, my snow wiper was not useless for this trip after all

The I 95 passes south east of Baltimore and then gets to the large ring road around Washington, in the chapter of little difference I can list the followinf, exit in roads go by number, but not exactly sequential, after exit 53 you may find exit 56, and where 54 and 55 ended up? it is that they number the exit with the mileage of the road. thus exit 53 is located at mile 53 of that road. I turn west on the 495 and get round, here directions are very well indicated, I get indication for the I66 when I am still on the 95. Yes the 66, the mitic 66 I have to make just about 30 miles on it before turning south on a state road. When I get onto it I do not loose the opportunity for an historic picture

As I pose for this picture I see some flocks of snow, actually a snow storm is arriving from south, and I will drive for the rest of day in the snow. There is something magic in driving in the falling snow, the flocks they do not hit the windshield, but taken by the aerodinamic flow around the car they fly accross and disappear over the car, you can actually drive without windshield wipers.

From the 66 I turn to the State (virginia) road 29. It is actually much nicer to drive on state roads, interstates are not ideal to enjoy the scenery and there are no houses or stores along. Along the 29 there are a couple of sites of Civil War battles. The terrain is moved the road goes up and down pleasantly, crops and some livestocks, it seems a rich land. It is snowy everywhere, not completely covered.

I arrive in Charlottesville at 1 pm. With Taylor, we go to the city centre, the pedestrian area is is being repaved, Miller, an historic place for its live music, linked recently to Dave Matthews Band (he used to bartend there) is there. Inside is dark and smoky, while we eat a duo starts playing, a piano and an harmonic guy, very old. The atmosphere is decadent and pleasant. I had forgotten my camera, so I ask a bartender if she can send me some, let's see if she does. Otherwise you just have to search the internet for it

Later we go to visit the neoclassic campus of the University of Virginia, designed by Thomas Jefferson whose famous mansion in Monticello (I did not know about it) is just few minutes away. With some regrets I leave at 4, let's hope the snow is not too strong, in case I can come back. The forecast is bad, 7 inches of snow. However both on the 64 and later on the I 81 south the situation is very good. It is possible to continue to drive around 55 m/hour without any problems. The I 81 runs in direction NE-SW following the appalachian mountains, the pass is just before the state boundary between Virginia and Tennessee. Along the way I can make a first evaluation of the car consumption, it get down to 30 miles per gallon, which here is considered quite good. but is less than 15 km per liter....I pass on the other side of the mountains, it is dark already, I am not sure is the major pass or a minor one, but there is less snow here. In Kingsport where my motel is located there are stores where they sell houses, not real estate agency they sell the house, I want to go back tomorrow morning. The address of of the motel was the reason to come, 1900 American Way.