I am back on the road. And I love it. After successful heart surgery and three lonely and boring months parked in a back alley in my new home Vancouver, I am finally rolling on the long American highways again. “The purity of the road. The white line in the middle of the highway unrolled and hugged our left front tire as if glued to our groove.” That’s how I am feeling. Grooving the asphalt, holding the white middle line in a tight embrace, a dance with a steady rhythm that takes me on and on and on, into the never-ending horizon of the road ahead of me. “We’d dig the whole world with a car like this because, man, the road must eventually lead to the whole world. Ain’t nowhere else it can go – right?”
Day 2 – km 629: Volker is happy. I think I could stay here forever. I am standing next to an old red barn, there’s a voluptuous amount & diversity of vegetables growing right next to me, pigs & goats are oinking & baaing behind me. There’s children running around me, playing with mud & water, screaming of joy, laughing & giggling. A cat walks over me, leaving tiny marks on my white metal with her dirty paws. A black dog lies curled up on the warm ground in front of me, guarding me from any danger. A light warm breeze comes down the rolling wooded hills into the valley, a slightly cooler one reaches me from the big deep pond a couple of hundred meters away from me. There’s no noise except for the whizz of the swallows flying in and out of the barn, passerine birds singing their varied songs, flies buzzing, quiet chitter-chatter of the humans playing & working along in the vegetable garden.
I am feeling slightly out-of-place in this most basic & idyllic of images of a human society. A farm with livestock & children, with fertile soils, water & growing plants. There’s not really a place or a need for me here. But I am still happy standing here, being part of it & observing the things going on around me. This is the closest to a society without technology I can probably get. And I must say it feels pretty good.