The First Leg: Home to North Bend State Park, WV

After working half a day, I had intended to try to get right on the road. However, my neighbor, whose pop-up camper we are borrowing, suggested I go ahead and put the new tires I’d purchased for the camper on, and leave the old ones behind, a decision I think will ultimately prove fortuitous. That took a little time, so we didn’t get on the road until about 3:30 p.m. It was a later start than I’d hoped for but worth it to have the peace of mind.       

I’ve driven US Route 50 west from home all the way to MD 219 south of Deep Creek Lake where my folks used to have a house. I’d never been west of that point on that road, and so for me, the adventure would truly start at Red House, MD, where those two roads intersect. Along the way, we stopped and took a couple pictures of the excursion train in Romney, WV, and I told Connor about how the Potomac River starts (the North branch) at a spot just south of Rte 50 and the panhandle of Maryland called Fairfax Stone at the junction of Grant, Tucker and Preston counties in WV.

The drive up there this time was a bit more adventurous, though, pulling a camper up and down some very steep hills, with sharp cutbacks on a two-lane road. As you ascend Keyser's Ridge, you are presented with a long line of giant wind turbines atop the ridge that extends quite a ways. It's both impressive and a bit sad as a beautiful skyline is interrupted by man's quest for more energy, as if West Virginia's mountains haven't already had to suffer the scarring of coal mining.

I had done much of my growing up during summers at Deep Creek Lake. Our house there was next to the Markgrafs, of Pittsburgh. I and my sisters were about the same age as Sue and David Markgraf, and I consider them as close as friends can be though I’ve rarely had the opportunity to see them. This trip afforded me a chance to see them again as they both now live in Oakland, Maryland, just north of 50 on MD 219. I arranged to meet them for dinner at a restaurant Sue suggested in Aurora, WV, called Melanie’s Family Restaurant. Sue (now Hillen) and her husband, Mike, and adorable daughter, Nina, collected David and managed to pull in there just about the same time Connor and I did.

 Melanie Fisher actually hails from Arlington, VA, but had spent many years at Deep Creek Lake, in fact meeting and becoming friends with Sue when they both worked at the Honi Honi Bar there. Having worked at several restaurants in the area, Melanie decided to open her own, and found a place right on Rte. 50 in Aurora she could afford. As Deep Creek Lake has grown (overgrown as Melanie, Sue, David and I all agree), she has found she enjoys the peace and solitude Aurora affords over the busy tourism of the Lake.

Melanie Fisher, proprietor of Melanie's Family Restaurant, with Connor and I

She’s brought some of her Chesapeake watershed heritage with her as she serves genuine crab cakes that rival those we can find in and around DC. She still does cooking herself and she only came out to join us in the dining area when her work in the kitchen was done. While I thought Connor and I were so unique, proudly explaining to Melanie that we were crossing the country on this one blue highway, Melanie quickly brought me to earth. “Oh, we see them all. There was the guy crossing the country carrying the cross, the rollerbladers, bicyclists, even a woman on horseback.” I hesitatingly noted we were just pulling a camper.

David Markgraf, Connor, Michael, Sue Hillen, Nina Hillen and Mike Hillen

In addition to seeing cherished old friends and introducing my son, reliving some great old memories, I feel like we’d already begun making new friends on the road. When you’re in the panhandle of Maryland, perhaps visiting Deep Creek Lake, yourself, take the pleasant drive out to Aurora, WV and try Melanie’s crab cakes or incredible hot roast beef sandwich.

A light rain had begun falling as we made our way up to Aurora, and it was still misting as we got back in the truck to continue on our way to our first camp ground. While we missed out on some beautiful vistas, I’m sure, as we made our way through the WV mountains, the misty clouds, hung in the trees along the road, making for some beautiful scenes nonetheless.

We made it into North Bend State Park, in Cairo, WV, well after dark, and after check-in. I’d made a reservation so we knew the slot to look for. We set up the camper in the dark rain, aching to get to bed. We would wake early the next morning to the same rain. That rain would stay with us for the next two days. That wouldn't stop us from making our first brief foray off Rte 50, to visit my namesake town, Clendenin, WV.

Setting the stage(coach)...starting a traveblog.

So let’s set the stage. My father took me on a two-week trip when I was about Connor’s age, touring in a small RV around Colorado, Arizona and Utah. It was an amazing experience that is still with me today. The trip made real what books in school had taught me about America’s geography, topography, culture and history.

We rolled south from Colorado Springs through Canon City and Royal Gorge, Black Canyon of the Gunnison, Mesa Verde, Four Corners, the wide flat desert Indian Reservations of Northern Arizona, Grand Canyon, Bryce Canyon, Canyonlands, and Arches National Park in Utah, and up back through the Rocky Mountains to Allenspark, CO. 

We hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon along the Bright Angel Trail across the South Kaibab desert in the 120 degree heat of August. We slept under the falling stars and full moon listening to the rush of the Colorado River. We hiked out under that full moon starting at 3 in the morning, arriving back at the South Rim before noon. 

We took what my father now describes as a cheesy, touristy ten-minute helicopter ride over Canyonlands, or maybe Arches National Park, that was monumental to me at that time, and still is in memory.

We fished in the Rocky Mountains above Allenspark, CO in the clearest lake I’ve ever seen – so clear, the fish stared at you wondering why you thought you were so clever with your rod and lure.

It was amazing. And I vowed I would grant my son a similar experience. As he neared 16, began to think I’d better make it happen now before he was not interested in doing anything at all with Dad, and before he was off to college. But I worried about imposing on him my own interest and expectations. So I told him we would take a two week trip, just the two of us, father and son, to anyplace he wished to visit. He responded to me as a teenaged boy – “uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”

So I told him I would throw and idea out there and he could veto it. We live about a quarter mile away from US Route 50, the last road in America on which you can drive non-stop coast to coast, starting in Ocean City, MD all the way clear to California. Some time ago, the last stretch from Sacramento to San Francisco was merged with an interstate and renamed I-80. It was my idea to pick up 50 near our home and drive across the country with him, intentionally staying on 50 all the way. By staying off the interstate, it might take longer but we would see America. Small town America. Real America, not Interstate Tourist America. We would eat at roadside stands and get local flavor.

Once across, if we timed it right, we could then drive south to San Diego for ComicCon. I’m a sucker for the super hero movies and the studios like to make major announcements about upcoming films there. Connor is a sucker for all things Star Wars. We’re both a little embarrassingly intrigued by the whole cosplay thing.

Then we could drive back east any way the wind blew. Perhaps I could take my son on the same hike down into the Grand Canyon, though he has not had the backpacking experience I’d already had by the time I went with my dad.

I told him that was my idea. He could opt for something different, maybe a theatre-focused trip to New York City.

I am so thankful he did not veto the cross-country drive, and instead, maybe somewhat surprisingly to me, took to the idea. I think maybe to begin with the idea of doing ComicCon was what grabbed him. I could hope the journey itself, rather than the destination, would sneak in there as the actual lasting memory for him as it did for me.

And so we began to plan. Plot the route. 6,000 miles there and back. And this blog will serve as a travel log for us and for you.  A traveblog, perhaps.

Come along.

Resurrected

I have been away.
I have been living life.
Some good. Some bad.
It's time to start writing again.

I'll start with by describing America. The America my son, Connor, and I discover on our journey that begins this Friday. We'll be driving across the country and back. We'll taking US Route 50 west from Northern Virginia all the way to Sacramento, California. We'll head south, hopefully to catch ComicCon in San Diego...or not. And we'll head back east across the southernmost states starting, hopefully, with a hike into and out of the Grand Canyon. Along the way, we'll tell you what we see, who we meet, what we eat. You'll learn about the America we see as we travel purposefully off the interstates.  I hope you enjoy the trip as much as we will.

Come along...

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