Memories, Stories, and Another Great Group of People

I trust everyone had a fine Memorial Day, and I'm grateful for the people who made the ultimate sacrifice to allow us to have a the opportunity to experience a good one ourselves.

There must be something in the water in Eastern, OH.  Trundling into Avon on a hot spring day, we were stopped at the edge of the Road by Joe and his son Tom. They brought us water, and let us try to explain the craziness that we’ve managed to get ourselves into. It was a rewarding exchange, and the water was just the right thing at just the rigth time.

Dad is a storyteller.  Get around him for just a split second, and you'll find yourself listening to some sort of story.  Some of the stories are parables meant to teach some sort of lesson, but most of them are just plain fun.

The Old Ford Tractor Across the Road - Avon, OH

A little way down the road, still in Avon, OH, I spied this tractor sitting in someone's front yard. It reminded me of a story Dad tells about the time he almost drove a late 1940's Ford Tractor through the back wall of the garage at his parent's house because he confused the foot rests for the brake pedals.  Grandpa Price hopped on the back and managed to get the machine stopped just in the nick of time. I'm sure I've heard that story tens if not hundreds of times.

Dad, reliving that fateful ride from seventy-one years ago.

Tractor Joe, the owner of the tractor saw us taking pictures and came out of his house to give us the history of his machine.  He also let Dad relive that fateful ride he’d taken seventy-one years ago. Fortunately, no barns were harmed in the process.

Joe and his son had completely restored this 1952 Ford Tractor that had been passed down from his own father.  Previously a farm, mowing, and snow plowing machine, this tractor has found continued life in tractor shows and parade appearances.  Joe drove it in the Avon, OH Memorial Day Parade at nine am today which, sadly, we missed.

Hearing the history and seeing Dad retell his own tale of fond memories of an old Ford Tractor was the highlight for both of us today.  

Dad and Tractor Joe swapping tall tales.

A little farther down the path in Amherst, OH, we were sitting on the freshly painted, but dry (we checked) bench at the Borman’s Farm Stand when Susan came out to see what were were doing.  She was a little worried that we were going to stand up with “white paint on our pants” from her fresh painting earlier in the day. Another round of storytelling commenced, and I was afforded a much needed twenty minute rest.

Dad and Susan after yet another round of tall tales.

Thanks for a great experience, Joe, Tom, Tractor Joe and Susan.  Another great set of examples where great people went out of their way to help make our pilgrimage a success.

The Jumping-Off Point

Today, we cleared the city of Cleveland to the west and ended a shortish saunter in Rocky River, OH. We also marked our twentieth straight day of slowly sauntering forward.

Bidding Cleveland Farewell

It's a bittersweet departure.  Crossing cities is always a bit of a challenge, but Cleveland treated us well.  From the food to the art to the friendships, the three day crossing proved to be an excellent opportunity for a little recovery while still making forward progress. We crossed paths with a friend and colleague who is travelling their own path, but the time our trails ran in parallel were some of the highest highlights from the last fifty-six days on the road.  We'll miss the banter, and hope we share the trail with you at a not too distant time in the future.

Dad put his skepticism aside for a couple of hours and visited the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. I’m not sure he really enjoyed it, but he reports that it triggered some moments of introspection. I’m not sure Rock & Roll Hall of Fame and introspection have ever been written in the same sentence before, but I, for one, think it’s great.

I experienced my own moment of growth when I put aside my general dislike of seafood and sampled a walleye sandwich. I don’t know what I expected, but I know I didn’t anticipate the emergence of a gustatory delight.  That sucka’ was tasty.

In many ways, leaving Cleveland feels like we've reached the real jumping-off point in our journey.  The expanse of the American West stretches before us, and the vast (relative) emptiness is quite daunting if we think too much about it. Fortunately for us, we've learned quite a few lessons along the way, and we've never been accused of being too very deep, intellectually speaking.  I'm optimistic.

Thanks to all the people who have helped us along the way. The water on the side of the road, a filling meal, a place to stay, words of encouragement, moments of laughter and camaraderie too numerous to count, sage advice on places to go and places to avoid, the offers of rides that we had to reject, and the welcoming porch that kept us dryish during a passing rainshower.  I’m sure I’ve missed many ways that the people we’ve known and the people we’ve met have enriched our travels, and I apologize for the oversights.

Know that we are grateful to you all.  We would not have gotten this far without your generous support and encouragement. Now, on to the west.