In A Big Country.

Four or five or maybe a dozen decades ago, so the story goes, one of my great (to some magnitude) grandfathers on my father’s side gathered his many sons around him and said, “it’s a big country. You don’t have to live right next to each other”. Sage words, especially if you want to avoid family squabbles. Go out, make your own way in the world, and then you won’t be fighting over small pieces of property and perceived slights. I may have overdone it a tad, but I took his advice to heart like no one else in my family.

  

This summer the wife and kids and I were all going to fly back to the family farm in Virginia for a month or so. We do it every couple years, so my kids can be exposed to a different world where swimming in a lake doesn’t require a thermal drysuit. My wife can eat vegetables that include actual taste and drive between states without crossing an international border. Yeah, and I can ride my bike on the Blue Ridge Parkway until my legs fall off. Everybody wins.

  

Except this year.

  

This year our world is a little smaller, despite the news saying trite things like, “we’re all in this together”. They should have added, “now go away” to the end of that to better reflect the current reality. Everyone outside of your own little enclave is viewed with suspicion, a potential vector for death and destruction. When threatened from without, the natural tendency is to bring in the crops and livestock, close the gates, and put archers up in the towers. True, some people are making extraordinary efforts to help others in this time of crisis, but most are doing what they’re told to do- hunker down and ride it out. It’s one of the few times that being an antisocial, self-centered fucktard like me is actually in the best interests of society. Every dog has his day, I guess.

  

Thanks to the virus and the financial uncertainty it has wrought, I bet it’s like this for most of the country. With fewer tourists making the “trip of a lifetime” up to Alaska this summer, I’ve heard more than one person remark it’s going to be like it was back in the ‘70s, before development, publicity, and oil money made the tourism industry what it is. Or was. We’ll have to see how this all turns out. Point is, fewer tourists and cheap gas tells me I’m going to fill the summer with plenty of trips in the RV. Get the family out of the house they’ve been locked up in and out into the woods. Things will likely be a little less crowded at our favorite spots, unless the fish are running, and then social distancing goes right out the window as every nearly Alaskan grabs their waders and pole. Right about then I pack up and head the other direction. Even without a pandemic, I tend to avoid crowds like… well, the plague.

  

If I can find a good campsite with access to good road biking roads, so much the better. Man has to have his priorities.

  

Still, my parents aren’t getting any younger. They don’t get to see their grandchildren very often, and technology can only do so much in that regard. The best Alaskan roads really don’t compare to the Parkway and surrounding roads for cycling. The change of pace and scenery does all of us a world of good. It’s something we look forward to, but I guess we’ll have to wait a little longer. We can do that. It’s part of the fun of being a long-time practitioner of “social distancing”, before all of the cool kids started doing it.