An episodic, stream-of-conscious dive into the Central American jungle. Here’s hoping we don’t find Col. Kurtz … or a drunken, incoherent Marlon Brando, for that matter.
From Ohio to ?????
Monday, August 13
Athens, Ohio. Night sounds. Crickets. Tree frogs. Drunken college kids. How different this will be in a few days … Total angst at the unknown and travel. Feels a lot like it did the night before I jumped in my truck, left Knoxville and set off for Washington, D.C.
A journey of a thousand miles starts with a bus-riding tweaker
Tuesday, Aug. 14
Took the GoBus from Athens to the airport in Columbus for an early flight to San Jose, Costa Rica. The bus is only 10 bucks and it was an easy trip. But it did give me a taste of Southeast Ohio redneck before I left the States. There as a heavily tattooed guy sitting on the bench at the GoBus stop at the Community Center. I notice him and that he appears to be talking to himself, or maybe someone on a phone. Once on the bus, he heads to the back row. Then he moves from row to row as the bus rolls through Logan. He’s talking to no one in particular, looking around nervously, clearly agitated. I start wondering if the police car I noticed at the Community Center was hanging around waiting for him to board the bus and leave Athens with the proverbial bus ticket out of town. Before we get to Lancaster, he talks to the driver, who pulls over and lets him out on the side of the road. He darts across all lanes of 33 to the other side and disappears from sight in the woods. Very strange … and I suspect he’s boomeranging back to Athens.