Today was maybe the longest, most exhausting drive yet. Eight hours, with two separate interstate death collisions expertly, though narrowly, avoided. It was a beautiful drive, though. West Virginia was exceptionally striking. Wild and wonderful. Leaving Frederick, Maryland this morning seems a year ago. Time moves so strangely while on tour.
We were at a sort of punk rock dive bar in Cincinnati tonight, the sort of place I'd probably appreciate more if I were well-rested, well-fed, and drunk, but I was none of these things. As it was, I spent most of my time sitting on their rear deck, where they had a fire pit properly stoked and burning, and where I discussed longshoremen and fixed-gear bikes with a funny, stoned hipster girl.
We're staying tonight in a three-story house in the Cincinnati 'burbs. Very accommodating folks here, especially the devastatingly cute little raven-haired girl, dating Jeremy (one of our hosts), who showed up in cowboy boots to give us weed and humor me with some idle "True Blood" discussion. We have stayed up late tonight, watching Snoop Dogg videos and drinking beer and playing Madden '08. Our drive tomorrow is a quick jaunt to Kentucky, so we're all planning on sleeping in, as well as taking full advantage of some well-deserved R&R with some very gracious hosts.
Matt has certainly helped us original five warriors out, giving us some much-needed late-comer's energy and gusto, and helping to alleviate some tensions which may have been building in the cramped, smelly van.
I'm sleeping on a ratty couch in an unfinished basement tonight. It reminds me of a tomb, fitting because I plan on a deathlike hibernation. The longest hauls are behind us, and we're all a bit relieved, albeit broke and wearing thin, to sense our momentum build for our final stretch and triumphant homecoming.
A basset hound named Dolly stole two of Harry's bagels tonight.