45 Comments

Have you read “Blue Highways”?

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Not yet.

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Highly recommend

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I read BH when it first came out and, to offer a differing opinion, I have to say I’ve never been able to recommend it.

The book described some nice interactions with many of the folks Least Heat Moon ran into. But overall, for most of the others he ran into, there was too much of a sense of “Ok ick! How can people live that way?”

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Wouldn’t it be “sledding” not “sliding”?

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Depends on the surface and trajectory.

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I think sledding vs. sliding, to describe going down a snowy hill on something, is one of those soda vs. pop things.

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“Sliding” in is perhaps the more general-purpose term.

Note the reference in the column to “disks”. (Or, as was common practice in the town where I grew up, new-liberated car hoods.)

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Sliding continues after one has fallen out of the sled, and that is what we older guys (some of us, anyway) attempt to avoid. Sledding and sliding travel together.

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The word "sliding" would include "slipping" as in "slipping and falling."

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So that's where your private eye got his name? From all these guy things?

John D

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Where do you find want ads these days? I’ve been in the market for bric-a-brac but Craig neglected to add the category to his list and the Daily Whiz no longer carries any classifieds at all.

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The Bangor Daily News (Maine) still has want ads (and garage sales, yards sales, etc.).

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Honesty is in short supply nowadays, but that's what we get from you, Garrison! You're all grown up, but you developed the ability to poke fun at yourself (and others), to the delight of us all.

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Before you head off in the blue Dodge pickup, I hope you’ll consider swinging south to Florida. I could take you to the Hillsborough River where you would swear you landed in Middle Earth; you would admire the ibises quietly setting sail. Maybe you would like to visit Tampa Theatre and celebrate the organist and the Wurlitzer Pipe organ rising up from the ground floor. I heard Leonard Cohen sing his heart out here & I know people would love to listen to your stories.

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So many want a piece of you, and believe they are doing it for you. I suppose that's one of the prices of celebrity.

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I was in West Palm Beach and saw no ibises but there was a very generous audience there.

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Curbs help define us and keep us safe ; pedestals do not .

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I think it was Dodge that famously departed with their cylinder block nick named the Straight Eight. Guys who know it far better than I get misty eyed (in a manly sort of way), so I'd be looking for a blue Dodge Straight Eight if you're serious about this road trip, Garrison. The guys who know it will want to share stories…

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I think taking off on the road southwestward is a great idea. You’d be in above-the-curb company. Steinbeck’s delightful “Travels With Charlie” comes to mind. He had his dog for company. I think it helped the aimlessness.

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Great idea, Garrison. Yesterday my wife and I attended a huge RV show in Seattle. We are reluctant to attend because we tend to bring something home, like a new camper, when we do. But we are in our later years, so we say to heck with it and go for the temptation and possibilities. This year we came away with plans and the after taste of an expensive hot dog.

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Did you hear a presentation about full-timing in a small camper from Dave Hutchison and Shari Galiardi? They're good friends and they've been full-timing 15 years now and enjoy telling others about it.

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That expensive hot dog sounds awfully good to me.

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The flavor didn't match the price, however. But such shows have a captive audience, so they can fleece us at their leisure. I hope one day to eat a hotdog from a cart in New York. I hear they are almost as good as Costco's.

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Good morning, Garrison

1] I really hope the reference to a book of Guy Poems is was a promise (I know —and love— “The Book of Guys”, but a separate book of the poems would be great).

2] When you find your pickup if you’re looking for a companion for the trip, give me a call.

I’m up to date on all my vaccinations, I make a darn good pot of chili, and I’d be happy to chip in my share for gas money.

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I think for true aimlessness, spur of the moment decisions, impulsive changes of plans, it needs to be a solo trip.

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OK, makes sense.

But the offer of chili stands.

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Disadvantage of living in The City that Never Sleeps: if you do find that old blue Dodge pickup you're going to pay more than it's worth just to park it somewhere.

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But he'll be on the road, no need to park it in NYC.

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I have friends with an old blue pick up truck up in Saranac Lake...let me know if you're interested!

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Garrison, take route 66 that leads passed Ted Drewes Frozen Custard in St. Louis. On Saturdays in the summer there will sometimes be two or three complete bridal parties getting free custards (bridal parties get custard free, but must be in wedding regalia). It's snowing here in St. Louis now, but not enough to stick on the roads. It's just decoration.

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Your blog has me remembering an incident, but please, bear with me....

Many years ago, I was mountain biking with some friends on a crisp November day and naturally, as mountain bikers (and men), we tend to seek out the most harrowing, precarious and, dare I say, dangerous trails to ride on. For the excitement of it of course. We hit this one trail, that admittedly, was my idea, that I knew had a 25 foot steep slope drop into a gully, went across a root bed and then shot up the other side. If you didn't come down into it with enough speed you wouldn't make it up the other side. If you strayed too far to the right across the root bed, the roots would grab your front wheel and toss you down the steep slope to the river some 100 feet below. Riveting and adrenaline pumping. Having ridden this many times before, I zoomed through "The Dip" and slowly pedaled the trail on the other side, waiting for everyone else. One, two, three riders followed me and we slowed and eventually stopped while we waited for the rest of the group. And we waited. We heard a distant voice call out "Rider down!".

We returned to the top of the slop on our side and looked down into the gully to see our friend Jim lying on the ground sprawled out in a heap just past the root bed and his bike clinging to a small laurel tree on the edge of that long drop to the river. His front wheel went off line and he was unable to correct the error in time and gravity, speed and uneven terrain tossed him down on top of the root bed. He was in pain but was able to walk up the steep slope with some assistance and when he got to the top of the slope I encouraged him to keep walking. We were in a section of tight trails and 4 miles from the trail head. "Just keep walking to the wider trail so we can assess the damage to get you out of here" I said. That walk was about 200 yards on twisty narrow trail through the woods. "No, I"m going to sit down for a moment" and I once again said to him "Dude, don't sit down, you'll get stiff and cold, and then you won't be able to move. You are able to walk, so let's keep going". But, he insisted with a "no" and sat down on a fallen tree. The longer he sat, the stiffer he got, the colder he got and the pain worsened. While we offered to carry him out , he refused to be lifted and carried out to the wider trail as the pain grew.

4 hours later, EMT's and fire rescue showed up on an ATV with a stretcher. BUT, they could only come down the wide trail and had to traverse the 200 yards through the narrow trail on foot with him in the stretcher. Later diagnosis was the he broke his hip and top of his femur.

The moral of the story is: Keep moving.

Had Jim listened to me and kept moving while he was still able to, he could have been rescued hours earlier, endured less pain and not have been as cold.

Now 20 years later and in my 60's, I stick to the "Keep Moving" mantra. A body in motion, tends to stay in motion. My brothers and I continually tell our 85 year old mother to keep moving and she does. No good comes from being sedentary. Keep moving. At 65 I still mountain bike and I refuse to let myself become feeble, nor should anyone.

Go sledding. Get into a snowball fight. Take up cross-country skiing. Take up snow-shoeing. You're in your 80's, you're not a pyramid. Do not let the number of years you've been on this planet define what you are capable of.

I have tremendously fond memories of all the crazy guy things I've done in my life. Why should they be just memories? Sure we may not be as fast, strong or thin as we used to be but that is no reason for us to practice for coffin duty. To hell with the young and that "..it's for a younger generation to do". Bulls**t. You know the saying.... "The problem with youth is that it is wasted on the young".

Keep Moving.

Ted Nugent once said "You're born at point "A" and die at Point "B", in between you kick maximum ass".

Keep moving Mr. Keillor, keep moving.

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I prefer to walk outdoors (lots of good trails in and near Orono ME) but I walk indoors from Oct. on, to get out of the cold. The Old Town/Orono Y has a walking track around the gym so 1:30 laps yield an 18 min. mile. That's my benchmark which I rarely meet, my good days are more like 18:30. I'm 83, on my third pacemaker (Bradycardia, neural block, rest of heart fine), so, with the blessing of my cardiologist, I'll keep doing it as long as I can. I have the QWIC philosophy for many things, Quit When I Can't.

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William Least Heat Moon has already written your book-Blue Highways. But the country has changed since the ‘80’s so go for it. Jim Paunovich.

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