Howdy, folks. I’m writing this at the tail end of a 12 hr shift, and looking at another six hours tomorrow (normally a day off). I’m a touch loopy at the moment. Sorry I couldn’t come up with anything, um, trendy and coherent. But this post was published four years ago, and on my blog rather than here, so I hope you enjoy it, and it gets you thinking about the many ways we get from here, to there, and the adventures we can write along the way. Oh, and as a side note… four years ago, I assumed we’d land on Mars in my grandchildren’s time, if that soon. Now? I’m thinking another four years may see it done.
Or, if you prefer, there’s a thrilling (heh) new installment of Lab Gremlins up at my blog.
As I’m driving along a nice, smooth, fast interstate, I know I will be thinking about what travel was like not that very long ago. Less than 200 years ago, it would have been near impossible for me to make this journey. And had I insisted (because the then-me would likely have been as stubborn as the now-me) it would have been a trip of weeks, if not months, and fraught with Perils.
I’m reminded of Celia Hayes’ excellent book To Truckee’s Trail, which I read last year. It’s a retelling of the voyage from East Coast to Clifornia via wagon train, which I have read many times over the years in different books, but this one is nicely researched and told well enough to be lively rather than dry.
When I moved to the Ohio River Valley over a year ago, I was reminded of the tales I’d read of the settling of this area, in old Western novels. I know I’d read about Dan’l Boone, and was delighted to find a tiny trapper cabin while visiting Kentucky that claimed to have housed him and friends during one rough winter in about 1789. I find there are a number of books available in public domain on that indomitable pioneer, I just picked one, I’ll let you find which is best…
Horses, wagons, mules, all very different from my four-wheeled gasoline-engined mount today. I can motor along in comfort, not worried about the muddy rutted roads featured in the beginning of Norman Borlaug’s biography as recent as the 1930’s that made travel treacherous and slow. I may get bored as I whiz along at ratesthey wouldn’t ahve dreamed of, but I have the radio, and my music gadget, and I can always set up my little bluetooth headset and call a friend to chat. Or simply pull over and nap, without worry of my animal wandering off.
My Great-Grandma Lily, born in 1893, saw the advent of motorcars, the interstate system, planes, and before she was gone, she rode the supersonic Concorde from one continent to another in a mere few hours. I don’t expect transport to zoom ahead so fast in my own lifetime – in 30-odd years there has not been that much change at all – but perhaps we will be able to make that leap off the Earth into the solar system, and beyond. In my children’s time, if not mine. Humanity needs room for adventure.