Crossing of Lines on the Way Home

I crossed the continental divide just east of Butte, Montana. It wasn't hard to climb to the 6000 feet plus line. One is never climbing more than a 6 percent grade. I crossed this line Monday May 14, 2007. I've lived most of my life on the eastern side of the Continental Divide.

I crossed into Minnesota Thursday morning, and that marked my return to the Midwest. I'm capitalizing the word Midwest because the Midwest is succour to me. I feel a comfort in the Midwest that I haven't felt in the south nor I've felt in the west.

I crossed the Mississippi River Friday afternoon, entering Wisconsin and I have lived most of my life on the eastern side of the Mississippi. I would rather listen to WOAP than KOAP. Last night, I arrived in Milwaukee, which I love calling Chillwaukee. I talked to as many citizens of the city of Chilwaukee as I could before I drove south on US 32. Before leaving town, I drove north on the Lincoln Memorial Parkway and finally saw the glimpse of moonlight on the waters of Lake Michigan. This marked my return to the Great Lakes Basin.

I haven't crossed the line into the Eastern Time Zone, but it is best for that crossing to happen tomorrow. I haven't crossed the border into Michigan, and I do intend on crossing that tommorrow too. I will cross the line into Oakland County and the line into Royal Oak. The final line is inevitable: I'll cross the threshold of my home. The journey will be completed, the travel-work of 71 days shall end at that moment. I have an odometer reading of 8000 miles so far. I doubt I'll top 9000 miles by the journey's end. Still, that is one third the distance around the globe. Am I changed my the journey. Yes, I am changed if only I am now older. Am I better because of yielding to an invitation to move outward and back? All I have in great increase is a longing for longing.