We arrived and Bobbie Gentry got it right when she wrote about “the muddy waters off the Tallahatchie Bridge”, but not just the Tallahatchie River--every river and body of water seems to be muddy. Despite that, (though I don’t know where the drinking water comes from and that bothers me) Mississippi is a beautiful state. It is green, lush and floral with pretty blue skies.
Y’all knew it was hot and humid, so I won’t reiterate that, what’s 95° here is at least 105° everywhere else.
Friendly? Hospitable? Y’all can’t imagine. As we were packing up our motorcycle Monday morning to drive the final 188 miles to Jackson from Southaven, Mississippi, a nice man started talking to us. He was interested in watching us get “all those bags on the bike.” When he found out we were from Seattle he got this funny smile on his face, then asked more questions and finally said, “Well, it shore is differnt here than in Seattle.” He introduced himself as Skeeter Miller from Wiggins, Mississippi down near Gulf Port. When we got on the bike he was returning to the motel and hollered out, “If you have any problems on your way down I-55 I’ll be coming behind you shortly.” Turns out he came behind us and soon passed us by, but waved as he zoomed away. That was our first introduction to the friendly people of Mississippi. Since then we haven’t really met anyone without at least a 3 minute chat, but often the chats are up to 10 minutes. This applies from motel clerks to passersby to assistant manager of the bank and more.
Some quick observations about Mississippi...
After driving through the Bible belt with a church on every corner and a religious billboard between the corners, Mississippi has fewer religious billboards. They still have lots of churches, though they aren’t so obvious.
The plains from South Dakota through Iowa the parts of Illinois, Missouri and Tennessee that we saw along I-55 were devoid of evergreen trees, but once we got into Mississippi about 40 miles we began seeing pines and other evergreens.
Mississippi has more hills than we expected (though they aren’t very high).
We ate at a Chinese Buffet and Grill which had both Chinese and Japanese food as well as salads. They served sushi with cream cheese and imitation crab filling and another variety with either cheese whiz or velveta (I couldn’t tell which).
Jackson seems to be growing by leaps and bounds--or at least the Jackson area. The next census will tell the tale.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Mississippi Bound Musings
Exit Billings. Getting closer to Mississippi, but not that quickly. I’m a bit anxious about that. Arlo is anxious about this lengthy form he has to fill out for the new job. Cool temperatures as we left Billings, about 9:45 a.m., but I had layered plenty of clothes on to keep me warm and to peel off as needed. Because we were passing by, we stopped at the site of the Battle of Little Big Horn. As an historian, I was interested in seeing the location where the events I’d read about and taught actually occurred, but we didn’t have time to spend really investigating. Lots of tourists were there visiting and I began hearing some Southern drawls which refocused my thoughts on Mississippi.
En route to Sturgis, our next destination, facts floated to the surface of my wandering mind about Mississippi and Jackson. I’ve been researching and the contrasts between Seattle and my soon to be new home are like the differences between Disneyland and the Forbidden City. That’s neither good nor bad, depending on who you are.
For one thing all the national newspapers have released the fact that Mississippi has the most obese population of all 50 states. Why is that? I will be really sad living among really fat people because I will recognize all the limitations on their lives as a result of their weight. Washington isn’t the leanest state...that award is given to Colorado, but Washington is near the top of the pack.
One of the websites I visited looks at categories in which a state is at the top or at the bottom. For instance, Washington is number one in Total Refugees from Egypt from the years 2000-2004 as per capita figures expressed per 1 million population. That seems like a very random number one ranking. On this same website, Mississippi is listed as ranking number one in the total of Black people killed by lynching from 1882 to 1968. How is that fair? That number one listing is from 41 years ago. So, I needed to find a ranking that is from at least 2000 to have any meaning. So, here’s one--Mississippi ranks first with the percent of people living below the poverty level in the past 12 months, 2004. Put that with the bottom ranking for Mississippi in the category Median Family Income (In 2004 Inflation-adjusted) at $39,319.00 and contrast with Washington’s ranking in the same category as 15th in the nation at $57,478.00 and it’s clear there are some real economic differences. Check out the site yourself for more interesting rankings http://www.statemaster.com/index.php and imagine, no...realize that all these states are part of one nation.
Arrived at Sturgis. Not Harley Rally time, but still plenty of motorcycles cruising the roads.
En route to Sturgis, our next destination, facts floated to the surface of my wandering mind about Mississippi and Jackson. I’ve been researching and the contrasts between Seattle and my soon to be new home are like the differences between Disneyland and the Forbidden City. That’s neither good nor bad, depending on who you are.
For one thing all the national newspapers have released the fact that Mississippi has the most obese population of all 50 states. Why is that? I will be really sad living among really fat people because I will recognize all the limitations on their lives as a result of their weight. Washington isn’t the leanest state...that award is given to Colorado, but Washington is near the top of the pack.
One of the websites I visited looks at categories in which a state is at the top or at the bottom. For instance, Washington is number one in Total Refugees from Egypt from the years 2000-2004 as per capita figures expressed per 1 million population. That seems like a very random number one ranking. On this same website, Mississippi is listed as ranking number one in the total of Black people killed by lynching from 1882 to 1968. How is that fair? That number one listing is from 41 years ago. So, I needed to find a ranking that is from at least 2000 to have any meaning. So, here’s one--Mississippi ranks first with the percent of people living below the poverty level in the past 12 months, 2004. Put that with the bottom ranking for Mississippi in the category Median Family Income (In 2004 Inflation-adjusted) at $39,319.00 and contrast with Washington’s ranking in the same category as 15th in the nation at $57,478.00 and it’s clear there are some real economic differences. Check out the site yourself for more interesting rankings http://www.statemaster.com/index.php and imagine, no...realize that all these states are part of one nation.
Arrived at Sturgis. Not Harley Rally time, but still plenty of motorcycles cruising the roads.
Mississippi Bound Bye bye Butte, Hello Bozeman and Billings
Happily we mounted the motorcycle early to leave Butte. We were in search of new tires for the motorcycle which we figured we would find in either Bozeman or Billings. When you have only two tires to depend on, you want them to be in good condition. Given the anticipated heat which causes tires to expand and the probability of road construction and poor road conditions, new tires are a good call.
To get to Bozeman we crossed the Continental Divide and the temperature was that chilly 51° but fortunately, the sun was shining. No rain today!
My image of this portion of Montana, is two parallel plains, one of earth and one of sky. The earth plain has formations, hills and even tall peaks off in the distance while closer up is this great rolling land. The sky plain has mobiles of clouds suspended from very high up, and though the clouds are big and pouffy they don’t come near the earth plain. Between the two plains is emptiness and the plains go on indefinitely, never meeting.
At Bozeman we found a delightful coffee shop, Rocky Mountain Roasting Company where Arlo was able to make arrangement at a Bozeman Honda dealer for new tires. It seems crazy to think that two tires, mounted and balanced would cost $630. We weren’t the only ones getting new tires, either. Three other motorcycles were in that day, and one of them was owned by a guy from Corpus Christi who was driving to Vancouver, BC for his wife’s family reunion. Nice, chatty guy--like most Southerners--a long ways from home. Though it was costly, things went along smoothly. We had a nice lunch while we waited and then away to Billings...or maybe beyond.
Except...that in Hardin, Montana when we stopped to get gas, damn if the left side case latch mechanism was stuck--it wouldn’t release. Arlo said more than “damn” and we spent 45 minutes while he took everything apart (after buying some tools since the motorcycle tools were in the left side case), figured out how the latch release worked, jockeyed it open, and determined that he could jimmy it open fairly easily as needed...but we weren’t going to put anything we needed in that side. This episode also determined our next overnight location, Billings. So, we didn’t have a long day of riding.
The Billings Holiday Inn had a casino attached to it where I spent $10 to find out that video Deuces Wild poker is a really dumb game.
To get to Bozeman we crossed the Continental Divide and the temperature was that chilly 51° but fortunately, the sun was shining. No rain today!
My image of this portion of Montana, is two parallel plains, one of earth and one of sky. The earth plain has formations, hills and even tall peaks off in the distance while closer up is this great rolling land. The sky plain has mobiles of clouds suspended from very high up, and though the clouds are big and pouffy they don’t come near the earth plain. Between the two plains is emptiness and the plains go on indefinitely, never meeting.
At Bozeman we found a delightful coffee shop, Rocky Mountain Roasting Company where Arlo was able to make arrangement at a Bozeman Honda dealer for new tires. It seems crazy to think that two tires, mounted and balanced would cost $630. We weren’t the only ones getting new tires, either. Three other motorcycles were in that day, and one of them was owned by a guy from Corpus Christi who was driving to Vancouver, BC for his wife’s family reunion. Nice, chatty guy--like most Southerners--a long ways from home. Though it was costly, things went along smoothly. We had a nice lunch while we waited and then away to Billings...or maybe beyond.
Except...that in Hardin, Montana when we stopped to get gas, damn if the left side case latch mechanism was stuck--it wouldn’t release. Arlo said more than “damn” and we spent 45 minutes while he took everything apart (after buying some tools since the motorcycle tools were in the left side case), figured out how the latch release worked, jockeyed it open, and determined that he could jimmy it open fairly easily as needed...but we weren’t going to put anything we needed in that side. This episode also determined our next overnight location, Billings. So, we didn’t have a long day of riding.
The Billings Holiday Inn had a casino attached to it where I spent $10 to find out that video Deuces Wild poker is a really dumb game.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Mississippi Bound Uh oh it's raining!
July 6
We awoke early to the sounds of water on the road. Cars driving past made that dreaded shhulshh noise of tires fording water. This is not a big deal if you’re in a car, but not much fun on a motorcycle. And there were predictions of thunder and lightning. Avoidance is sometimes a good policy, so we hung out in our hotel room for an hour or so prolonging our departure in hopes of a weather change. No luck.
I put on nearly every item of clothes I brought and covered my legs with my pair waterproof rainpants. I feel like they should be bright yellow, but they’re black.
The Idaho panhandle is 75 miles across following I-90. As we wend past Coeur ’d’ Alene I remembered hikes at various places, bays where we waterskied, swam and sunbathed. Not in this rapidly dropping temperature, though. The motorcycle has a thermometer which read 62° as we climbed toward 4th of July Pass. The rain continued. The temperature fell. We passed Smelterville, a town I remember from my childhood as a neighbor had grown up there and I thought it such a funny name for a town. The neighbor, Joy her name was, trained her cats to jump through hoops and roll over. She used to put shows on for the kids in the neighborhood.
Speeding along, I was more than chilly as the temperature which was already cool dropped to 51° at Lookout Pass at the Idaho-Montana border. Also, we lost an hour. Montana is such stunning country--the pristine streams with deer at the edge.
You know you’re in Montana when billboards proclaim Lucky Lil’s Casinos and the annual Testicle Festival (check it out at http://www.testyfesty.com/)held at the end of July in Clinton.
For some reason Arlo is drawn to Butte, Montana which I find to be dreary. We stayed at the Finlen Hotel in a dark, poorly equipped room in the historic uptown portion of Butte. Sure, there are plenty of formerly elegant homes posted as being on the National Historic Registry, but that has a huge downside because once on that list, the building can’t be improved unless the renovations follow specific guidelines that comply with the design of the original time of construction. That is expensive. Therefore the homes and shops fall further and further into disrepair.
This entire day I have not thought about Mississippi once.
We awoke early to the sounds of water on the road. Cars driving past made that dreaded shhulshh noise of tires fording water. This is not a big deal if you’re in a car, but not much fun on a motorcycle. And there were predictions of thunder and lightning. Avoidance is sometimes a good policy, so we hung out in our hotel room for an hour or so prolonging our departure in hopes of a weather change. No luck.
I put on nearly every item of clothes I brought and covered my legs with my pair waterproof rainpants. I feel like they should be bright yellow, but they’re black.
The Idaho panhandle is 75 miles across following I-90. As we wend past Coeur ’d’ Alene I remembered hikes at various places, bays where we waterskied, swam and sunbathed. Not in this rapidly dropping temperature, though. The motorcycle has a thermometer which read 62° as we climbed toward 4th of July Pass. The rain continued. The temperature fell. We passed Smelterville, a town I remember from my childhood as a neighbor had grown up there and I thought it such a funny name for a town. The neighbor, Joy her name was, trained her cats to jump through hoops and roll over. She used to put shows on for the kids in the neighborhood.
Speeding along, I was more than chilly as the temperature which was already cool dropped to 51° at Lookout Pass at the Idaho-Montana border. Also, we lost an hour. Montana is such stunning country--the pristine streams with deer at the edge.
You know you’re in Montana when billboards proclaim Lucky Lil’s Casinos and the annual Testicle Festival (check it out at http://www.testyfesty.com/)held at the end of July in Clinton.
For some reason Arlo is drawn to Butte, Montana which I find to be dreary. We stayed at the Finlen Hotel in a dark, poorly equipped room in the historic uptown portion of Butte. Sure, there are plenty of formerly elegant homes posted as being on the National Historic Registry, but that has a huge downside because once on that list, the building can’t be improved unless the renovations follow specific guidelines that comply with the design of the original time of construction. That is expensive. Therefore the homes and shops fall further and further into disrepair.
This entire day I have not thought about Mississippi once.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Mississippi Bound On the road...
July 5
We left Seattle at 8:00 heading for Monroe, Washington, where we planned to hook up with a couple from our BMW motorcycle club who had arranged to “ride out of town” with us. We weren’t heading into the sunset--that would be west--but it’s much more poetic to say heading into the sunset than riding out of town which sounds as though we are one step ahead of being tarred and feathered. Anyway, a haze lay deep over the Seattle dales and depressions from the quantity of fireworks last night. It lent a surreal view of the towering construction cranes around Mercer, houseboats on Lake Union and Queen Anne hill off in the distance. Scooting up I-405, we arrived easily at Monroe where we met Bob and Marti, who also ride a Goldwing.
The four of us on two bikes merged onto highway 2 in route for Stevens Pass and Leavenworth. A lazy lunch, good conversation and bon voyage; Bob and Marti headed to Icicle Ridge Winery and we continued eastward to Spokane.
Driving highway 2 was a nice change from I-90 without the demands of steep Cascade Highway further north. Scenery morphs from exquisite treed Cascade mountains to coulees (dry falls) with their sheer vertical walls rising up from a millennium old river bed.
As we progressed the temperature rose. 94 degrees! Hot, hot, hot...the air felt like a shot of tabasco! We donned our cooling vests, but water evaporated quickly in intense heat and arid conditions. Fortunately, Bob seemed to be doing fine; no vertigo or anxiety.
Finally, in Spokane. We stayed at the elegantly affordable Montvale Hotel downtown. Our Spokane kids came downtown to have dinner with us. Walking through alleys to Europa Pizzeria, always a favorite Spokane restaurant, our 2 year of granddaughter Lexi ran heedless of danger but was frightened by a man with a long white beard at the restaurant.
We left Seattle at 8:00 heading for Monroe, Washington, where we planned to hook up with a couple from our BMW motorcycle club who had arranged to “ride out of town” with us. We weren’t heading into the sunset--that would be west--but it’s much more poetic to say heading into the sunset than riding out of town which sounds as though we are one step ahead of being tarred and feathered. Anyway, a haze lay deep over the Seattle dales and depressions from the quantity of fireworks last night. It lent a surreal view of the towering construction cranes around Mercer, houseboats on Lake Union and Queen Anne hill off in the distance. Scooting up I-405, we arrived easily at Monroe where we met Bob and Marti, who also ride a Goldwing.
The four of us on two bikes merged onto highway 2 in route for Stevens Pass and Leavenworth. A lazy lunch, good conversation and bon voyage; Bob and Marti headed to Icicle Ridge Winery and we continued eastward to Spokane.
Driving highway 2 was a nice change from I-90 without the demands of steep Cascade Highway further north. Scenery morphs from exquisite treed Cascade mountains to coulees (dry falls) with their sheer vertical walls rising up from a millennium old river bed.
As we progressed the temperature rose. 94 degrees! Hot, hot, hot...the air felt like a shot of tabasco! We donned our cooling vests, but water evaporated quickly in intense heat and arid conditions. Fortunately, Bob seemed to be doing fine; no vertigo or anxiety.
Finally, in Spokane. We stayed at the elegantly affordable Montvale Hotel downtown. Our Spokane kids came downtown to have dinner with us. Walking through alleys to Europa Pizzeria, always a favorite Spokane restaurant, our 2 year of granddaughter Lexi ran heedless of danger but was frightened by a man with a long white beard at the restaurant.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Mississippi Bound
4th of July
Independence Day was originally our departure date, however, we have postponed leaving until tomorrow. This is because Arlo began experiencing a vertigo on Thursday that lasted through Friday. It didn’t seem wise to get on a motorcycle which requires some balancing while suffering from the “spins”. Was it a sinus problem? The result of aspirin? Elevated blood pressure? Tainted food? Whatever the cause, he took some motion sickness pills and the condition has lessened. Today he feels ok, so, blast off will be tomorrow morning.
Despite Arlo’s condition, we were able to take care of a number of items yesterday including consigning our beloved BMW K1200LT motorcycle to be sold at Ride West. Whoever buys this splendid ride, I sincerely hope they enjoy it as much as we did. (I’ve had the same thoughts about every motorcycle we’ve had, though, as each bike transforms into a magic carpet ride for us.) We’ll be riding out on a GoldWing which is a smooth ride with more of an automobile feel than a daring bike ready to tackly the twisties. The reason for the switch is Mississippi has no BMW dealership for servicing our bike. BMW’s, actually ALL bikes, require constant and expensive servicing. It’s unrealistic tot think that we could drive 3 or 4 hours for work to be done. Harley and Honda dealers are everywhere, so we opted for the Honda. A good choice, I think. This is a stable bike with a lower center of gravity than the BMW. It lacks some things the BMW had, like a top rack which allowed us to pack more “stuff”, camping stuff usually, but we won’t need that on this trip and if we’d like we can have a top rack put on. Also, the seats aren’t heated--but, seriously, in Mississippi I don’t think we are going to need a heated anything. All in all, it’ll be a good ride.
Having mentioned the fact of no BMW dealership in Mississippi, there are a few other places which have little or no representation there. Is it fair to expect Mississippi (or any other place for that matter) to have a Starbucks every few blocks? Not really, however, the entire state has only 19 Starbucks! Given that a 5 mile radius in Seattle will offer up well over 19 Starbucks, my perception is skewed. Hopefully, one of the 19 will be close to where we live; or, perhaps another breed, another variation will have evolved which will be as enticing and satisfying. Mississippi has not a single Costco. We have Walmarts and Sam’s Club in the northwest, which are the dominant retailer and retail wholesaler in the south, but Costco is familiar to me and it only seems fair that there be a Costco, at least one, in Mississippi. Since there isn’t, I guess we’ll have to join Sam’s Club and buy from them. By searching on-line, I was able to find one organic grocer. Not high on everyone’s list, but important to us.
While we’re treading water in Seattle, the sun is shining, but the temperature is perfect; the city is resplendent in color (sky, water, trees, as well as red, white, and blue) and sounds abound (cars, seagulls, music, laughter). Seattle coyly whispers to Arlo, “Don’t forget me.”
Independence Day was originally our departure date, however, we have postponed leaving until tomorrow. This is because Arlo began experiencing a vertigo on Thursday that lasted through Friday. It didn’t seem wise to get on a motorcycle which requires some balancing while suffering from the “spins”. Was it a sinus problem? The result of aspirin? Elevated blood pressure? Tainted food? Whatever the cause, he took some motion sickness pills and the condition has lessened. Today he feels ok, so, blast off will be tomorrow morning.
Despite Arlo’s condition, we were able to take care of a number of items yesterday including consigning our beloved BMW K1200LT motorcycle to be sold at Ride West. Whoever buys this splendid ride, I sincerely hope they enjoy it as much as we did. (I’ve had the same thoughts about every motorcycle we’ve had, though, as each bike transforms into a magic carpet ride for us.) We’ll be riding out on a GoldWing which is a smooth ride with more of an automobile feel than a daring bike ready to tackly the twisties. The reason for the switch is Mississippi has no BMW dealership for servicing our bike. BMW’s, actually ALL bikes, require constant and expensive servicing. It’s unrealistic tot think that we could drive 3 or 4 hours for work to be done. Harley and Honda dealers are everywhere, so we opted for the Honda. A good choice, I think. This is a stable bike with a lower center of gravity than the BMW. It lacks some things the BMW had, like a top rack which allowed us to pack more “stuff”, camping stuff usually, but we won’t need that on this trip and if we’d like we can have a top rack put on. Also, the seats aren’t heated--but, seriously, in Mississippi I don’t think we are going to need a heated anything. All in all, it’ll be a good ride.
Having mentioned the fact of no BMW dealership in Mississippi, there are a few other places which have little or no representation there. Is it fair to expect Mississippi (or any other place for that matter) to have a Starbucks every few blocks? Not really, however, the entire state has only 19 Starbucks! Given that a 5 mile radius in Seattle will offer up well over 19 Starbucks, my perception is skewed. Hopefully, one of the 19 will be close to where we live; or, perhaps another breed, another variation will have evolved which will be as enticing and satisfying. Mississippi has not a single Costco. We have Walmarts and Sam’s Club in the northwest, which are the dominant retailer and retail wholesaler in the south, but Costco is familiar to me and it only seems fair that there be a Costco, at least one, in Mississippi. Since there isn’t, I guess we’ll have to join Sam’s Club and buy from them. By searching on-line, I was able to find one organic grocer. Not high on everyone’s list, but important to us.
While we’re treading water in Seattle, the sun is shining, but the temperature is perfect; the city is resplendent in color (sky, water, trees, as well as red, white, and blue) and sounds abound (cars, seagulls, music, laughter). Seattle coyly whispers to Arlo, “Don’t forget me.”
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Mississippi Bound
Tuesday
I’ve been reading as much as I can about Mississippi. One of the books we bought is a coffee table style book called Must See Mississippi - 50 Favorite Places. The introduction is by a Mississippi author named Greg Iles. He made some interesting comments which have caused me to stop and think. The most striking statement is this, “While most communities in America seem hell-bent on turning themselves into clones of the next city up the interstate, Mississippi remains true to itself.” Sam and I have noticed this as we’ve motorcycled through the western U.S.
It was sad to hear that Flagstaff had succumbed to the siren call of a Wal-mart Superstore to be built outside the downtown area. Everyone can predict the outcome--the demise of the mom and pop, the locally owned stores that can’t compete with the nationwide chains. Empty buildings, loss of identity, just another town rather than a destination. I don’t know where Flagstaff is on that continuum because we were traveling through several years ago. Strip malls with the same big box stores with the same store fronts---that’s the tragedy of expediency and efficiency. Rather like the “Little boxes on a hillside, little boxes made of ticky-tacky” as the song from the 1960’s lamented, only now it is “big boxes by the highways”. Sometimes a small town is able to force a style on a major chain, like Leavenworth, Washington with its Bavarian theme which has a Bavarian McDonalds and Starbucks and other stores.
(For fun--a link to Pete Seeger singing the Little Boxes song http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AN3rN59GlWw
In the western U.S. it’s tough because on any historical timeline our communities are relatively new and usually haven’t formed as dominant a “personality” as old locations. One of Seattle’s greatest features is Mt. Rainier, which I am looking at as I type. Giving up a daily view of Mt. Rainier (assuming the mountain is willing to show herself and not be cloaked in grayness and clouds) is going to be tough. Its magnificence knocks any sense of the mundane or pedestrian right out of the way. Mystical and magical, Mt. Rainier (called Tahoma by the Klicktatat and other native people) is really a source of inspiration. The poet Denise Levertov adopted Seattle and Mt. Rainier as home toward the end of her life. From the poem, “Evening Train” she lauds the mountain thus:
“...the mountain revealing herself unclouded, her snow tinted apricot as she looked west, tolerant, in her steadfastness, of the restless sun forever rising and setting.”
Between Seattle and Mississippi we will have the opportunity to see a great deal of the U.S. on our motorcycle. I suspect the towns we come to traveling on the Interstates will be preceded by strip malls and outlet malls, and succeeded by them, too. Smaller towns along the more scenic byways may perhaps retain an identity. Greg Iles’s commentary on Mississippi was made in 2007. In two or so weeks I will see for myself whether Mississippi continues “true to itself.”
I’ve been reading as much as I can about Mississippi. One of the books we bought is a coffee table style book called Must See Mississippi - 50 Favorite Places. The introduction is by a Mississippi author named Greg Iles. He made some interesting comments which have caused me to stop and think. The most striking statement is this, “While most communities in America seem hell-bent on turning themselves into clones of the next city up the interstate, Mississippi remains true to itself.” Sam and I have noticed this as we’ve motorcycled through the western U.S.
It was sad to hear that Flagstaff had succumbed to the siren call of a Wal-mart Superstore to be built outside the downtown area. Everyone can predict the outcome--the demise of the mom and pop, the locally owned stores that can’t compete with the nationwide chains. Empty buildings, loss of identity, just another town rather than a destination. I don’t know where Flagstaff is on that continuum because we were traveling through several years ago. Strip malls with the same big box stores with the same store fronts---that’s the tragedy of expediency and efficiency. Rather like the “Little boxes on a hillside, little boxes made of ticky-tacky” as the song from the 1960’s lamented, only now it is “big boxes by the highways”. Sometimes a small town is able to force a style on a major chain, like Leavenworth, Washington with its Bavarian theme which has a Bavarian McDonalds and Starbucks and other stores.
(For fun--a link to Pete Seeger singing the Little Boxes song http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AN3rN59GlWw
In the western U.S. it’s tough because on any historical timeline our communities are relatively new and usually haven’t formed as dominant a “personality” as old locations. One of Seattle’s greatest features is Mt. Rainier, which I am looking at as I type. Giving up a daily view of Mt. Rainier (assuming the mountain is willing to show herself and not be cloaked in grayness and clouds) is going to be tough. Its magnificence knocks any sense of the mundane or pedestrian right out of the way. Mystical and magical, Mt. Rainier (called Tahoma by the Klicktatat and other native people) is really a source of inspiration. The poet Denise Levertov adopted Seattle and Mt. Rainier as home toward the end of her life. From the poem, “Evening Train” she lauds the mountain thus:
“...the mountain revealing herself unclouded, her snow tinted apricot as she looked west, tolerant, in her steadfastness, of the restless sun forever rising and setting.”
Between Seattle and Mississippi we will have the opportunity to see a great deal of the U.S. on our motorcycle. I suspect the towns we come to traveling on the Interstates will be preceded by strip malls and outlet malls, and succeeded by them, too. Smaller towns along the more scenic byways may perhaps retain an identity. Greg Iles’s commentary on Mississippi was made in 2007. In two or so weeks I will see for myself whether Mississippi continues “true to itself.”
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