this land, part i

We started our journey after dark that Sunday night, passing through the Holland tunnel and determined to go as far as was reasonable while our children slept. We made it to Harrisburg, Pennsylvania--the first of five state capitals we would see by our journey's end--where we found a room for the night and woke within reasonable proximity to the town of Hershey. We were tempted to continue west and spare our innocent children the marketing prowess of a multinational conglomerate, but the thought of the two thousand miles that they had yet to endure in car-seats softened our hearts. In the end, the spectacle of our baby let loose in his first candy store was well worth the stop.

We wove southward into West Virginia, making our way to Harper's Ferry, which the guidebook praised as a picturesque town (of historical significance), but which turned out to be a blink-and-you'll-miss-it two hour detour (of historical significance). Lonely Planet's USA was thenceforth stowed deep in the trunk, untouched for the remainder of the trip.

West Virginia is a shirt-optional state, at least for its male inhabitants. Should you sight a shirt on a male West Virginian, it is as likely to be (okay, more likely to be) worn on the head, turban-style, or stashed in a back pocket, as it is to be worn on the body.  This is solely for cultural reasons, rather than to show off a painstakingly chiseled set of abs, as it is in SoCal, another region in which I have witnessed this anti-shirt phenomenon.  Fascinating.  We glided through emerald hills, enjoying spectacularly peaceful scenery, marked only occasionally by human habitation, usually in the form of a single trailer home, invariably sporting a rooftop satellite dish, set by the side of the road.  When we stopped for the night it was at a very nice hotel in Morgantown, home of WVU, a bargain courtesy of our Hotwire app. Go Mountaineers!

What a difference three years can make in the Technological Age.  When we made the reverse trek three years ago, from California to New York, I spent weeks beforehand compiling lists of charming sights along our potential routes, with printed maps of Whole Foods and farms permitting visits in a folder.  Nights in the hotel were spent on my laptop, researching B&B's and historical hotels that we might reach the following night, desiring the flexibility to drive and stop at will.  This time, our iPhones, equipped with apps for the aforementioned Hotwire, as well as Hotels.com, Wikipedia, Google Maps, and Pinterest (to find cool restaurants and sights in tiny towns along the I-70), replaced any need for advance planning. We owe Steve Jobs a big kiss.

On we went to Kentucky, drinking it all in as we went...