“A bit of Keourec, a dash of Kuralt with just the right pinch of Least Heat-Moon; a must read recipe for the lover of the open road and the true aficionado of what is unique Americana.”
The Ultimate Road Trip for true lover of Americana
Hit the Great American
Open Road and listen as common folk discuss their history, their fears and
their dreams; all in an elusive search for common ground in a rapidly changing
nation.
We are a nation of sad stories; we bleed historical tears
soaked in cultural pathos. Most I met on the open road had a tale of personal
woe they almost always were quick to share with a stranger. There are a million ways to break a heart, to
kill a dream. The more street savvy and life toughened the teller, I learned,
the more poignant their life’s tale of double cross. “Better to have loved and
lost, my ass,” a chain smoking grave yard shift waitress at an all-night diner
in Kentucky told me. “Anyone spouting that bullshit obviously never lost anyone
worth squat.” I grew to respect, but also to expect that type of down to the
earth truthful wisdom straight from the mouth of common folk; a refreshing tell
it like it is no spin zone of reality.”
Like the endless byways I traveled, on and on the stories
rolled.
Excerpts
“Although handsome in a rakish sort of way, his appearance still belied a man huddled around a camp fire over a mile and half up in the Rockies with the first blizzard of the season bearing down. He looked 40; but in reality, I was to learn, he was past 60 years of age. His dress was akin to a man just released from a gulag. Disheveled hair hung to below his shoulders, held in place by a wool stocking cap. A bushy beard framed a weathered face. His mismatched clothes were tattered and worn in layers to protect him from the cold while his mittens had the fingers cut out. His attire smelled of many camp fires while his eyes were crystal clear blue and danced as he spoke. I immediately sensed gentleness only men of immense strength possess.”