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July 11th, Yes Trek
Day 1
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Through the mist
of a million years of high energy three riders skimmed the surface of
the plain of Tallowcross and raced towards a dream. Their meeting
point lying between the glades and Gardens of Geda and the high
mountain masses, where fountains of light and color and soft winds of
passion, openly existing through wisdom, surrounded the three that
silent eve, they sang together through motions only ways, as all
around them sparkled and chorused in wonder.
-- Jon Anderson, from the story that
accompanies Olias of Sunhillow
I was packed and psyched and turning
the car key on the late side of a lovely, blue-skied day when the
engine of my hunter green Grand V-ger wouldn't turn over. I had left
the map light on overnight and the battery was drained. Our second
car was handy and I had jumper cables, so I just jumpstarted myself
and was pleased at the accomplishment. Late, though. It soon became
apparent I would not complete the 3-hour drive to Columbus in time to
meet Yann Clochec's arriving flight. I decided to enjoy the sunset
and dallied along the back ways to the central Ohio location. Not
lost in the city I found Chris Emery's apartment, but nowhere to
park, so kept moving in a driving daze and sonic cloud of loud Jon
music, not noticing the guys on the balcony shouting to me and
flailing their arms.
In the process of turning around I
spied an Indian restaurant and could not resist. I imagined the gang
was dining already at Hoster's Brewery and so altered my famished
state with papadam and samosas and chipati and some very spicy
curried okra. As the over-eager waiter hovered above me to appease
every need, I began considering the city location relative to crime
and felt vulnerable with the cartop carrier, loaded with camp gear. I
wondered if a hotel with a garage might place my mind at ease. Once,
while staying with Rhea Frankel in Philadelphia, to see Jon at HMV
record store, my car and Moongate Dawn of Light Grib Climber's truck
had been vandalized. I didn't want anything inauspicious to happen
this time. I noted the location of the Ohio State Campus Holiday Inn
and meandered back to Chris' apartment.
Serendipity smiled as I first
encountered my traveling companions at the white-pillared entrance to
the Emery domicile. As I stood pondering which button to push, none
of them marked with Chris' name, Chris and Yann were leaving to get
dinner with a married pair of friends, TStan and Kim McGinnis. It was
hugs and handshakes all around. I told them I'd already eaten and
meant to check into a hotel, that I would catch up with them at the
brewery.
At Hoster's a sign on a delivery
truck said, "Think Globally, Drink Locally." I didn't bring any ID
because I hadn't been barhopping in ages and, at age 37, was out of
the habit of being "carded." The guy at the door, surely sensing the
high vibration, let me in and didn't even charge me the cover fee. I
found the get-acquainted experience funny because the live music,
courtesy of Happysac, was so very loud we couldn't easily communicate
verbally. The awkward patter at first meetings I mentioned before was
impossible, an interesting twist to me, entirely unconventional: I
approved. We just smiled and gestured, drank and hung out, more or
less. It was reminiscent of my first encounter with Moongate Dawn, at
her home, at the time, in the Dayton, Ohio, area, about 4 years ago.
She suffered laryngitis and was fully unable to chat. So we just sat
quietly and drank tea, variety "Constant Comment," the irony of which
just "dawned" on me.
I thought about dancing, but didn't
want to embarrass Chris in front of his friends. So I downed my
Reverend Purley Pale Ale and left them to smile and shout at one
another, throw sugar packets or whatever was necessary, admiring the
low orange first-quarter moon as it swung around and followed me back
to the hotel. I was happily aware that we would enjoy moonlight each
night of the journey and that the moon would be full my last night at
Wendy's.
my
merry tale ****
Day
2