Back home. We drove over 250 miles today. Started from the Nickerson Inn, in Pentwater, Michigan. It's a rustic place, about ten guest rooms, near the beach, on the east side of Lake Michigan. In the lobby, there's a piano, a checkerboard, an open Bible (In my book, the 'den of thieves' is American Corporate Capitalism). It's looks like it hasn't changed in 100 years. We slept in the Log Runner's Room. The mattress on the bed was as stiff as a log. I might have been better off sleeping on the floor. Still, Carla and I slept 9 hours. The air is so clean, the surroundings are so quiet, it's easy to drift off, and wake up refreshed.
We ate lunch in a little Cafe in St. Joseph's, Michigan. I had a nice tuna salad. The meals have all been good. The last 60 miles home were rough. Traffic jams, pollution, concrete jungle. There is nothing uglier than the Indiana/Illinois suburban sprawl. The expressway system is hard, inhuman. We blasted rock and roll the whole way (Led Zeppelin BBC Sessions - Jimmy Page is an avant garde, guitar god, The Stones -- no bettter rock and roll album than 'Exile on Main Street,' The Byrds Live - lyrical and experimental, Lucinda Williams - love the guitar player in her band, she's poetic and tough).
Finally made it home. I'm sitting in the sun-room, sipping a Perrier, listening to The Who (loud guitars and drums -- Keith Moon was a maniac, are somehow comforting, grounding for me). So, anyway, I guess, I'll call it a day.