Day 36

Leaving Halifax I motored south on the 103 toward Yarmouth, a four hour drive away. My plan was to make it last a day and hopefully find some surf along the way. As the fog wisps receded out to sea the sun shone bright on the rugged coastline. I passed a sign which read "Liverpool next exit" and below that a smaller sign read "Hank Snow Country Music Centre". I pulled off semi erratically and rolled in to town eyes peeled for the museum. I found it in an old railroad station not a thousand feet from the exit. I knew Hanks music, but I didn't know too much of his history. Within minutes I learned Hank Snow was a native of Nova Scotia who's presence on the Grand Ole Oprey made him a household name. He was more a fisherman than a cowboy when he began writing songs while working on a fishing boat in the cold Atlantic waters. He acquired his first pair of cowboy boots second hand from a guy who rode a horse in a traveling show that stopped in town. He bought a horse and trained it to do tricks and such then spent years traveling North America performing as The Singing Ranger. He, his family, and the horse all lived in the same truck during this period of time. In a video, his son recalled each night before the family went to sleep (in the same bed above the truck cab) Hank would slide open a little window not more than a foot from them and feed his horse sugar cubes. I suddenly felt like I was traveling lavishly. This was a great little museum which was a treat to come upon. Before I left the curator asked me to sign the guest book. She inspected it and happily informed me that I was the first person from San Francisco to visit. Hopefully not the last. www.hanksnow.com

I arrived in Yarmouth around 3PM and there was a mean fog brewing in the harbor. I decided to park the van and try to make it out to the light house in the outer harbor and back before dark. The fog was so thick that after a mile of riding, my face and clothes were beaded with moisture. Damp and quiet. I could only hear the sound of the wind passing my ears as I cruised passed both cows and fishing boats in the same stretch of road. I thought about the up coming ferry passage and the potential for surf in Maine. I thought about the smell of the subway in New York and the warm dry air that might be blowing off shore somewhere in California. I thought about my friends between here and there and I thought about that girl. It began to rain and I pedaled slower and enjoyed the ride.

day 33 to 35

The drive from NH to Nova Scotia was a solid five hundred plus miles of beautiful trees in near full fall color. Sunset was at 7PM and I rolled on another six hours arriving at the beach in Lawrencetown by 1AM. Morning light brought a heavy heart. Flat surf conditions and onshore wind. Boo Hoo kids. After 5500 miles of vanning alone with the hopes of scoring some epic right point surf, my whoopie cushion deflated with that familiar farting sound. Not so funny this time. I attempted to fend off my disappointment by setting out on a five mile bike ride along a picturesque old railroad bed snaking its way past salt marshes and teams of sea birds. The diffused sun paused the day in a hazy mid morning light that made my body feel heavy with sleep. My head developed a post party night fogginess and I lost interest in the beauty around me. I wanted a latté and a seat by a sidewalk teaming with people who's lives I could speculate on based on their outfits. I wanted my favorite burrito. I wanted that girl and my friends to be here with me. Goddamn, here it was. I felt alone and kind of depressed. I pulled my bike over and sat for a while thinking. I closed my eyes and just pictured it all as I wanted it. Home, surf, girl, burrito, latté. Five minutes later I actually felt better. The wind was dead calm and the tide falling. I pedaled back to the van with zest and decided to check the point again for any signs of surf. There was the littlest bump on the water when I arrived and there was one guy out. That sealed the deal. I was in the water for two hours until the wind was blowing so hard on shore that I just let it blow me in to the beach. With the wind swell dropping, I decided to head to Halifax for the next two days for some city time. It's a good town with a feeling that blends a bit of SF and NY into a smaller city. It was just what I needed. Plenty of people, lattés and good food. I received an email about a job back in SF and thought how fortunate! Perfect timing! I promptly bought a plane ticket home and booked my self and the van a spot on the CAT. This is the high speed ferry that goes from Yarmouth, NS to Portland, Maine. There was no way I was doing that eleven hour trip again. The CAT only took six hours to get to Maine where I was scheduled to meet the parents for a little holiday weekend visit. Stoked! It was all lining up! In a week I'd be home!


This stuff is so good.

At The Fair

Epic tees. I've got a team of researchers on this phenomenon.



The livestock....










Here is my homage to the Sartorialist...Fair Fashion.


















...AND let's not forget the food.

Day 30 to 32

Ahhh....New Hampshire. Five years of great memories made here! And when I moved, I left a bunch their physical manifestations behind. Art portfolios, tons of memorabilia from my teen years and beyond, surfboards, skateboards, snowboards, etc. Decades old stories played out again as I thumbed over each object. I thought them over....and well, honestly, the stories weren't that great. What didn't get thrown away, got given away, and the rest goes in the van with me. I've wanted to deal with this loose end for years. Ahhh! Satisfaction!

After I got my junk taken care of it was time to hit the Deerfield Fair! Yep, an honest to goodness county fair chock full of pigs, sheep , oxen, draft horses, acrobats, cotton candy, farm equipment, bandannas, carnival rides and fried anything on a stick. Some humans were there to, but it was hard to tell them from the animals in many ways. There was so much to see I'm going to have to do a separate post on the fair itself.

I managed to visit my old friends Jenny and Jared who since my last encounter have purchased a house , had another baby and made quite a nice life for themselves! Time moves fast....for sure! Four years under the bridge and yet not a day had passed. That's what makes great friends.
It was really nice to reconnect with everyone. It had been too long.


Yes. These were mine.


Duh...it's the holy family. They made me do it. 1978




BIGFOOT at monster truck show. 1983




Heartbreak 1992. Katrin.Die Deutsche Frau.

Not Jesus..Jim.. from a College ID photo. $20 in Korea .Oil on canvas.




I like trains. These were pretty old.

day 26 to 29

Well, Jon and Maura headed to Greece for ten days to shoot for some magazine and I headed up to New England to visit more friends and family. I get my own little piece of Greece every time I'm in New England by visiting the Greek diners. The portions are always disgustingly huge and you can't beat the"home cookin" taste. I look for this certain type of marble cookie that I used to get as a kid at every diner I go to but I haven't found one in years. The default second is a shortbread cookie with a raspberry filling and a dusting of confectionary sugar. I promptly killed one the size of a dinner plate just over the CT border. After a trip to the Italian bakery, and the thrift store, I tried to visit the Philip Johnson Glass House in New Cannan, CT. Unfortunately, upon arrival I learned all the tours were booked. Instead, I thumbed through a beautiful hundred dollar gift book on the house and felt like I got a good tour anyway!