Day 3. I Throw Down the Gauntlet.

This morning I got off to a later start than I had wanted, because last night, like right now, I was up late blogging.  But it was fine, really.  By tonight, I had covered enough ground to feel good about the day's drive.

The morning sun was pretty dramatic, streaming through the clouds, as we pulled out of Podunk, Oklahoma and made our way East, towards Oklahoma City.

We passed a couple more cool agricultural structures, and then that was the end of those.  But there would be neato large structures of a different kind, later on.

The scenery gave way to a more lush, rolling landscape.

We passed Earlsboro, which I'm sure must be a really amazing place to live:

And then things were pretty uneventful for a while.  We passed through Oklahoma City and made our way towards Arkansas.  Somewhere in Eastern Oklahoma, we stopped for gas and a break.

I let the dogs out first, as usual, and they did their business and ran around on the grassy area behind the gas station.  Then I got them back in, gassed up the car, parked it in the shade, rolled the windows down a couple inches, and went inside to pay and freshen up.

Apparently, while I was gone, Todd got some ideas of his own about how things were going to be, moving forward.  When I came back to the car, he had put himself in the driver's seat, with a big smartass grin on his face.  Paul had his ears back in the "I had nothing to do with it!" position.

Come on, Todd, come on, get out of my seat, buddy, let's go.

Notice Paul is totally out of the picture?  He's staying out of it!

I was trying to get Todd into the front passenger seat.  He really wasn't doing it.  Pulling gently on the collar, nice voice asking him, gently encouraging him, nothing worked.

So I opened the driver's door and pushed.  He got the picture.  Notice the change in Paul?

Hopefully that's the end of his mutinous thoughts.

I really can't blame him.  I'm sure they're both wondering what is going on.  Why are we doing this?  Are we ever going home?  When do we get to sleep in our own beds and run around in our yard again?

We moved on.

Arkansas was lush and green, but kind of a yawner.  We passed one distant factory/grain elevator thing that made me want to divert and go investigate, but I resisted the urge.  There will be a lot more of that on the drive home.

One of the rest areas was particularly nicely landscaped, and they had those cool BBQ grilles with the adjustable-height mechanism that I like, so I photographed it.  Maybe I'll make my own version of it for the house I'm about to go help build.

I like how the handle is an extension of two of the rods of the grilling surface.  Seems a little dangerous though.

We passed another town with a great name, but they got the spelling a little wrong.

As we left Little Rock, the next major milestone was crossing the Mississippi.  I got more and more excited as we approached.  I went to college in St. Louis, and I have a real fondness for old river towns, and the warehouses and steel bridges that dot their shorelines, and for this river in particular.

I used to spend hours sketching and photographing along the river in St. Louis.  I wrote a report on and build a partial model of the Eads Bridge, the first bridge to span the Mississippi.  Its design allows it to carry 2 railroad lines, so trains can pass each other, and a regular vehicular roadway above those.  It still stands and carries traffic in and out of St. Louis. The problems they had to overcome in the construction of that bridge still rival anything you would see on one of those "Engineering Marvels" cable TV shows today.

You can tell when you're approaching a major river, because you can identify the wide, flat floodplain that parallels it.  My anticipation grew as we got closer, and the ground dropped away.  Off to the right, I saw a viaduct marching along towards the river, parallel to the highway.  Again, I really wanted to go find it, and trudge out into the field and photograph it.  It was at least 3x as long as the amount you can see in this pic.

The viaduct turned into a steel bridge:

Sorry about the crooked photo -  I think we were climbing at that point.

And then suddenly there it was, ahead of us...

...and we were through the bridge and in Tennessee before I knew it.

And now we are in our motel in the middle of nowhere, but somewhere West of Nashville.  Actually, we're only a few miles down the road from Loretta Lynn's ranch, according to the signs.

Hmmm...that sounds tempting...



Epilogue:

If I can drive all day with 2 dogs, and take care of them, and take care of myself, and take lots of pictures, and check into a motel in the middle of nowhere, and then blog about it before collapsing on the bed (but not before a beer or two, or equivalent) then I see no reason that I can't keep it going and blog every single day of this trip.

There.  I said it.  I've been wanting to challenge myself like this with the blog since I read this blog post over at tod.fm, where he challenged himself to blog a substantive article daily for a month.

So, Gentle Reader, you can expect daily updates on my adventures for the duration.

Who knows, maybe the mutiny will be successful and you will get updates from Paul and Todd!

Day 2: Lots of Driving & Heavy Industry

Day 2 has come to a close.

It started out pretty well. We pulled out of Winslow and headed East on 40, making our way across Northern Arizona.

Our first point of interest: we passed the Cholla Power Plant.  There were huge piles of coal laying around (just visible on the left in the picture) so I assume it is a coal fired power plant.

It made me think of how great it is that someone figured out how to burn coal to generate electricity in the first place, and how great it is that our lives are extended by decades as a result of what we can do with it: power hospitals, power our refrigerators so we have fresh, wholesome food at home 24/7, power the factories where they make the refrigerators, keep lights on in peoples homes so kids can do their homework after dark, basically allow us to do anything after dark, basically power our entire civilization. 

It sure beats the pre-industrial alternative: death by age 40.  Ayn Rand was right on when she said to go hug your nearest smoke stack.  I didn't hug these, but I saluted as I drove by.

Then we had some really great rocky landscapes for a while:

At one point I was driving along side a freight train...

...and I was surprised that I was going faster than the train.

And then, I saw another smoke stack, way off to the left, behind the next row of rock formations. 

I don't know what it was exactly, but there was a branch line of the railroad leading over to it.  Here you can see where the railroad line crosses through the line of rocky hills between the smokestack and the building.  That whole section of the drive was very Atlas Shrugged:

Eventually I made it into New Mexico and stopped at Albuquerque for coffee, gas and a break for the dogs.  There was a nice little grassy area next to the Starbucks where we got some fresh air and stretched our legs (all 10 of them!)  Then it was onward through the rest of New Mexico.  It was a lovely drive:

There is a little town called Tucumcari, NM that I have driven through before, and I took the Business Loop through the town when we got there.  Slightly off the main road was this, which I had not noticed before:

It's a quonset hut next to a grain elevator!  I thought that was pretty great.  Both of them such purely functional structures, with wonderful form/function synthesis, right there together.  *sigh*

I also saw my first horizontal stop light in ages.  I know it's not the first time I've seen one, but the first in a really, really long time.

Then it was flat for a while.  We crossed into Texas at some point.  The pavement in Texas was superb.  Smoothest roads I've driven on in a long time.

I'm not sure if it started in New Mexico or Texas, but there was a barrage of grain elevators and large agricultural structures, and I took as many pictures as I could.

Yikes!  I'm glad I wasn't on that project team!

Then, as we approached Amarillo, just when it was time to get out and give the dogs some exercise, we hit (most unexpectedly) upon this:

So we stopped.  I'd seen pictures of the Cadillacs sticking out of the ground.  They're right out in the middle of a field, with cows all around and everything.  You can just walk right in.

But as you approach, you start smelling spray paint, and see the ground littered with spray paint cans, and you realize that the whole thing is just a bunch of overweight slobs spraying their names on the cars and throwing the cans around on the ground.  It was pretty disgusting.

Todd left his mark:

But then it got EXTREMELY interesting, for Paul and Todd:

You can't see it, but Todd was Quivering. All. Over.  It's going to be interesting when we get to the farm and they see their first horses.

Day 1: Long Day's Journey

Today was Day 1.

The Dogs and I are driving from L.A. to somewhere in East Tennessee, to work on the Tennessee House for the next few (several?) weeks.  Today was our first day on the road, and all in all, it went really very smoothly.

We got away at around 10:30, ran into a little traffic on the 15 North, which is typical, and then things went pretty well from there.

Paul checks out the scene while we wait in traffic.

Finally we got to the split where the 15 goes North to Vegas and the 40 goes East, to Tennessee!  The last time I was at this juncture, I went the other way, to OCON.  Now I take the Eastern Route.  What adventures will lie in store on this trip?

Hmmm, this is a tough choice.

We saw these cool old modern picnic pavilions at a rest stop in the High Desert.  I wish they hadn't added those ugly fences between the stone piers.  They really disrupt the sculptural purity of the structure.  I'm sure they were added later.

"Nobody speaks of pavilions any more...

...and that truly saddens me."

Then we watched the scenery go from deserty...

Windshield Cam, somewhere in the high desert 

to green...

Pit stop, somewhere in Arizona

to Grand Canyony:

We didn't stop, although I would have liked to,

but we have places to be!

Along the way, we also stopped at Needles and got our feet wet in the Colorado River, at the Needles Marina.  No kidding, they actually have a marina at Needles, California.  Who knew?  Paul splashed right in, but Todd needed a little encouraging.  It was a nice break from the road.

From then on, things were uneventful until we hit really bad traffic around Flagstaff at 7:00-ish.  It seemed to be caused by construction.  That put the kabosh on my hopes of making Gallup, New Mexico the first night.  We sat there for about 45 minutes and went all of about 3 miles.  Paul liked it because it meant I could roll down his window.

,

You could actually smell the pine in the air.

Today we made it as far as Winslow, Arizona, where I sit writing this.

That wraps up Day 1.  I plan on making much more use of the blog to document this trip than I have been lately, so stay tuned for more updates from the road!

Fast Framing and a Speaking Engagement

The Tennessee House is moving fast!  Actually, the pace of the construction is fast.  The house itself is stationary.  Here are some of the latest images, courtesy of Mr. and Ms. Client:

Overall view from the existing house on the property

Closeup looking towards the front door

Similar view of the downhill side

Looking North at the South side of the house

Closeup of the corner of the sun room

View from the master bedroom

The rafters, which will be covered up, and post + beam, which will remain exposed

In related and very exciting news, I will be presenting a lecture on my design process for this house, and conducting a tour of the construction site, for members of the Atlanta Objectivist Society!  The dates have been set: September 9th for the lecture, and 11th for the tour.  I am really looking forward to this event.  The house should be far enough along that the main features will be in place, and it will be really fun to explain it all in person.

Things are still on track for me to depart L.A. sometime next week to drive out to Tennessee, with my dogs and welding rig, and spend a nice chunk of time (likely a month or more) on site.  I love construction, especially when it's my own design, and being able to hang out with my new friends in Atlanta will be the icing on the cake.

On Atlas Shrugged, Mind-body Integration, and Why I Dislike my House

SPOILER ALERT!  THE FOLLOWING BLOG POST CONTAINS ATLAS SHRUGGED PLOT SPOILERS.

But, I won't discuss anything beyond Chapter 8, so if you're in the reading group and a first-time Atlas Shrugged reader, you won't hear anything about later chapters, so read on!  If you haven't read it but plan to, you might give this post a miss, but I'm not really revealing all that much, and we're only on about page 260 of 1000+ so take that for what you will.  Anyway, let's get on with it.

Last night was Atlas Shrugged night.  Every Tuesday I have been going to a great little wine bar in Pasadena to discuss Atlas Shrugged, chapter by chapter, with a really great bunch of folks from this MeetUp group.  Chapter 8, The John Galt Line, is a really wonderful chapter where you see Dagny Taggart building the John Galt (railroad) Line out in the mountains of Colorado.  Hank Rearden figures heavily in the chapter as well, since it's his Rearden Metal that's being used for the rail and a major bridge on the railroad they're building.

In essence, you see time and again how they put their minds to solving the problems that face them, and then apply their skills to execute the solutions.  Then they triumphantly open the line, ride the first train to Wyatt Junction amid great fanfare, and have a hot (and I mean HOT), romantic (like only Ayn Rand can write) night together at Ellis Wyatt's place.

One of the other people in our group made an interesting comment towards the end of the evening: how one of the themes of the chapter is mind-body integration.  As we discussed that, it suddenly occurred to me precisely why I am so unhappy with the house I live in, here in L.A. 

It's a nice enough house, and downright cute by many peoples' standards.  It was built in the early 1920s and has lots of original features: lovely fireplace, window seat, glass front bookshelves, even a built-in buffet in the dining room with a beveled mirror and glass doors.  It has 2 bedrooms, a sunroom, 1 1/2 baths, and nearly all the woodwork is either in its original finish or stripped and restored.

I used to live next door, but I sold that house in 2006 (timed it perfectly!) and used most of my proceeds to pay down this house and make some improvements here and there.  But, I have had seller's remorse pretty much ever since. 

That house was built at almost the same time and has the same exact fireplace mine has; it has a big open living/dining room, and a much more efficient floor plan.  Even though it is smaller than this house, it feels much more spacious inside.  It is also set up higher and has way better daylight inside.

My current house always seems dark inside to me, and the rooms (especially downstairs) are divided up awkwardly.  It is hard to furnish, although a piano can make many houses hard to furnish.  It has a lot of nice features, but it has poor light, poor connection to the outdoors, and the floor plan is really awkward, I think.  Awkward floor plans are a huge pet peeve of this architect, btw.

Here's why the comment about mind-body integration resonated with me so strongly:  I've been working very hard, for years now, to integrate my life into a complete whole, a multifaceted single unit, where each part supports the and enhances the other parts, as I work to achieve my goals and dreams. 

This house undercuts a major part of that effort.  For all its cool features and charm, it is fundamentally at odds with the type of backdrop I need to live my best life.  Thus, I am constantly expending energy trying to counter-act it, or working to overcome it, without really identifying the problem (except to bemoan that I sold the wrong house, which is water under the bridge at this point, and a further waste of energy and time to contemplate for even one second.)

What a revelation!