I wrote my first novel when I was 10, in a royal blue spiral notebook I’m sure was meant for my math homework. The story was what you might expect of someone that age. The protagonist was an angst-ridden fifth grader whose family didn’t understand her.
I have other notebooks from those days, mostly filled with bad rhyming poetry and rants about my sisters. But the blue notebook is gone. I think, but I don’t know for certain, that I destroyed it in a fit of frustration. This was long before Anne Lamott wrote Bird by Bird, and I understood the value and necessity of a shitty first draft. I just thought I was a bad writer because I couldn’t resolve the plot in a meaningful way. I was 10.
Since then, I’ve written pages and pages, too many words to count. More bad, unpublished poetry. An op-ed about athletes getting more recognition than scholars that was published in the Midland Daily News when I was in high school. A speech that won an award from Optimist International.
After high school I channeled my writing energy into professional writing: news releases, promotional copy, employee newsletters. I don’t remember much creative prose in the early days of my career, but most of my jobs involved writing.
Years later, driving home from a family reunion in Barnesville, Minnesota, my two kids and my mom strapped in the back of our minivan, I decided to go to graduate school for creative writing. There I became the writer I always dreamed I’d be.
I spent the next seven years learning about the craft I’ve loved since I was 10. I was introduced to Anne Lamott, Joan Didion, Janet Burroway, and a host of others who helped me learn that writing is a process and a passion. Sometimes the words flow easily and land on the page perfectly formed. Most of the time, however, it’s a wrestling match, moving words around until they strike the perfect pose or are pinned to the page in beautiful submission.
Now, two decades later, I turn to Julia Cameron, who encourages me more than any of the others to just write. Every day. In a notebook. Longhand.
***
I go to my local office supply store (some still exist post-pandemic, although my favorite has closed) and shop for two notebooks. I pick a college-ruled notebook for my daily pages. I want a different color for the novel I’m going to write. This will be my third novel if you count the abandoned manuscript from childhood. I rifle through the messy piles in the bins of the store searching for the perfect one. I stack the notebooks neatly back on the shelves, turning them right side out until at the bottom of the bin I find it. I can’t say why it’s “the one,” but it is.
I clutch the two notebooks to my chest and head to the cash register. I lay the two side-by-side on the counter, marveling at the possibilities. The black cover will be for my morning pages. And the other—the one with the vaguely familiar royal blue cover—will hold the novel I’m about to begin.
I, too, am a fan of Julia Cameron. For years, I woke up most mornings and walked to a neighborhood coffee shop to write morning pages. And just this past week, I went in search of a notebook that would inspire me to at least try to get back in the habit. Haven’t yet put pen to paper but your post prompted me set a “morning pages” date at my now-favorite coffee shop.
Sally Showalter
Good for you and sharing your experience. Encouraging!
Five dozen white salad plates, four dozen dessert plates, dozens of cheap forks, candle holders, three tubs for ice and canned drinks, red wine glasses, white wine glasses. Grandma’s embroidered tablecloth, a bride’s dark green tablecloth, crocheted dresser scarves made by a great uncle while tending bar in his lakeside tavern. Tools appropriate for other times
Ornaments from the children’s tree, red plastic sleds, N-gauge train cars, a doll house made by great-grandpa, a toy china cabinet made for great-grandma, filling up shelves needing to be cleared. Prom dresses, a toddlers navy wool coat, a child’s silk Japanese jacket brought home from WWII, all worn by young girls and boys long grown or passed. The stuff of others’ memories kept in a basement closet alongside the extra vacuum and ironing board.
I claim ownership of the party tableware gathered for piano recitals, kids’ open houses, book launch parties and gatherings of all sorts. The shelves were a lending library for other’s bridal showers, small weddings, anniversary gatherings. We joked about saving trees and landfill space while piling clothes baskets full of glassware to travel a few miles. Sad to say farewell to the thought of a future soiree, but there’s enough in the upstairs cupboards to host small parties.
Thinking about what tools might be necessary or fun for the next decade makes the clearing less emotionally painful even if shoulders and back ache. It’s all about matching what you need with you carry forward. I don’t remember shedding tears when two briefcases went to a thrift shop or tailored suits headed to consignment. Still use one of the tote bags bought to replace the corporate stuff. To be honest I might still be wearing a few sweaters bought for the writing years.
I, too, am working my way through “tools” of other times. Everything from iPods to cameras, canning jars and crayons. Also letting go of Word documents. Submitted stories and the numerous drafts that preceded them as well as thousands of Word documents I created on behalf clients. Feels good to let go but I despair over how time-consuming doing so is.
cmkraack
The holidays bring all the stuff back out to consider. Why do I have 2+ sets of Christmas dishes? A set of milky mixed drink glasses from my parents?
Adventure and the unknown drive me. Quickens the beating of my heart. My senses are awakened and my yearning to feel alive fed.
Most often my experiences turn out different than I have imagined.
First an idea forms from conversations, reading, or research. My spirit takes note. I imagine the possibility. Interest becomes excitement. I rapidly move forward toward commitment.
Jody is along for the ride, a supportive enthusiastic travel partner.
Biking the Great Allegheny Passage (GAP), took root in March of 2023. I was chatting with a couple from Delaware in our shared Florida courtyard. The retirees had recently completed the old railroad trail that follows waterways and mountains yielding stunning views of waterfalls, gorges, river valleys, and farmlands.
That same day, I began researching the 150-mile nonmotorized path that starts in Cumberland, Maryland and ends in downtown Pittsburgh. According to the website, traveling the Great Allegheny Passage is a sought-after, “bucket list” adventure that delights local users as well as tourists from all 50 states and over 40 countries annually.
I ordered the TrailGuide, the official guidebook for traveling on the GAP and had it shipped to our home in Minnesota. It would be waiting for me in our stack of mail when we returned from our five-week Florida stay.
With the thumbs-up from Jody, a date to bike the GAP—all 150 miles—was set. Lodging at three Bed and Breakfasts along the route were reserved.
Biking the GAP would fulfill several of our wants. An adventure, a statement of active retirement, and a proclamation that we were keen for the next phase in our life: traveling and planning excursions without our adult children.
• •
C&O Canal Towpath
“What happens when you drive through a toll gate, damaging the arm barrier?” I googled from the passenger seat. Jody couldn’t stop laughing. She backed the car up, jumped out of the driver’s seat, dashed to pluck the toll gate ticket from the kiosk, then tossed it on the dashboard. “That’s what you are supposed to do,” she said, still guffawing.
“Now, you’re following directions?” I asked, astonished. I had a notion to video the bent toll arm that wouldn’t close, her grabbing the ticket and fleeing, but I hadn’t caught up to what had just occurred. Her laughter was a little disconcerting.
A loud voice over the intercom telling us to pull over and wait for the police didn’t come. Jody continued onto the Ohio turnpike. I adjusted my seat to an upright position. “There is probably a video of you,” I warned. “By now, the police have a description of our van and our license number.”
Jody couldn’t stop laughing. Hitting a toll booth arm would be expected of me. Not rule-following Jody. According to my Google search, driving through toll booth arms has also happened to others, rule-followers or not.
What goes on in Ohio stays in Ohio? As of today, we haven’t yet received a fine.
• •
GAP trail
Cumberland, Maryland was our starting point for biking the GAP. Jody and I were eager to start. We had already altered our plans at Jody’s suggestion. The weather in Cumberland ranged from lows of 40 to highs in the low 60’s. Instead of biking the entire 150-mile length, pedaling from one B&B to another and carrying our gear, we would plan day trips on the trail and drive to our lodging. This would allow us to start later and bike during the warmest part of the day.
After asking directions for the trail at a bike shop, we headed out for a 30-mile afternoon ride. Jody and I pedaled single file on the narrow dirt path with me leading the way. The afternoon sun warmed our backs when it poked through the tree canopy. Deer, snakes, squirrels, and chipmunks were spotted and dodged. Occasionally we skirted a pothole filled with water and rumbled over bumps. I was happy to be using an e-bike. It made the impossible possible and the not so fun … fun.
The next morning, at The Inn on Decatur, our hostess served a delicious and abundant breakfast of pancakes, pastries, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, Canadian ham, hashbrowns, and fresh fruit. She encouraged us to pack the leftovers.
“Was it a narrow path?” she asked. “You went the wrong direction,” she explained. “The GAP is flat and wide with a crushed gravel surface. You were on the C&O Canal Towpath.”
I looked at our map. It started to make sense to me: the locks and lockhouses we passed, the river on our right. I had even taken a photo of mile marker 170, our turnaround spot. This was clearly marked on the C&O Canal diagram.
This, I would do. Go in the wrong direction.
C&O Canal Towpath and the Great Allegheny Passage intersect at Cumberland, Maryland with the towpath running 185 miles to Washington, DC following the Potomac River while the Great Allegheny Passage is a 150-mile trail in the other direction to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.
The towpath was originally built for the canal mules to walk beside the canal as they towed the canal boats through the waterway. Jody and I can now say that we’ve biked a portion of the trail. Thank goodness we were biking out and back. We could have been in Washington, DC before self-correcting.
• •
At Meyersdale, we entered the GAP trail and headed north two miles towards the Salisbury Viaduct. The GAP trail was what I had expected. It is similar to the crushed limestone Luce Line State trail in Minnesota. Amazing that yesterday I accepted the forest dirt trail as the GAP.
The Salisbury Viaduct, 101 feet above the Casselman River, is the longest trestle on the GAP. Forests dressed in their fall colors, farmland, and wide views surrounded us. We turned around at a small family cemetery and headed south towards Frostburg and the Eastern Continental Divide (Highest Point on the GAP), Big Savage Tunnel (longest tunnel, ¼ mile) and the Mason & Dixon Line.
The hard packed trail surface follows the old Pennsylvania and Lake Erie Railway. A small mountain creek, Flaugherty Run, flows alongside the trail for six miles before disappearing at the Eastern Continental Divide, where it runs into the Casselman River. The GAP crosses the creek 10 times on short wood-decked former railroad bridges.
Just past the divide is the Big Savage Tunnel. Before going through the tunnel, Jody and I turned on our headlamps. As soon as we entered the tunnel a cold damp gripped us. A wide sweeping view of rolling mountains and valleys greeted our exit. We stopped to soak in the warmth of the October sun and enjoy the scenery that was dotted by wind turbines lining the ridges.
The GAP trail crosses from Pennsylvania into Maryland at the Mason-Dixon Line. This famous area snuck up on Jody and me. We noted the markers and stones from our bikes and continued onward.
Frostberg, our turnaround point, is a small college town. To reach it we biked a steep paved trail into town. The Toasted Goat Winery seemed a fitting place to stop for lunch before our 16-mile return to Meyersdale and our car ride to our next B&B, Hanna House of Breakfast near Confluence, PA.
• •
The falls at Ohiopyle State Park
In the fast-flowing whitewater of the Youghiogheny River, a kayaker had not emerged from the turbulent falls. Jody and I believed we were witnessing a death. Two kayakers had successfully made it over the 18-foot drop at Ohiopyle Falls in Ohiopyle State Park. This one was in trouble. He was a cigar bobbing up and down in the powerful water unable to escape the whirlpool. The three kayakers had slipped into the river upstream ignoring the signs saying, “No water access.” Jody was filming the kayaker and didn’t shut her video off until his head surfaced.
The name Ohiopyle is thought to have derived from a combination of Native American Indian words which mean “white frothy water.” We had walked to an observation deck to view the falls and the rapids leading up to them.
Ohiopyle State Park, was our planned rest break. That morning we had parked our car at the main visitor parking area near downtown Ohiopyle and biked ten miles to Confluence before returning.
The town of Confluence is at the convergence of three waterways: the Youghiogheny and Casselman Rivers and Laurel Hill Creek. “Where mountains touch rivers,” is the town’s motto. This was definitely evident on the bike trail. On one side of us was a mountain and on the other a river. Confluence is surrounded by some of the highest ridges in Pennsylvania. The Middle Yough, Laurel Hill Creek, and White’s Creek are considered some of the best trout waters in the region. From our bikes we could see fishermen casting their lines.
After taking a breath and reviewing the video of the kayaker, Jody and I continued our bike ride north over the curving 620-foot Ohiopyle low bridge and the 663-ft Ohiopyle high bridge. From our bikes we took in Ohiopyle Falls, Ferncliff Peninsula, and the Youghiogheny River. Our turnaround point was 10 miles further near Sheepskin Trail.
• •
Jody and I considered our biking options from the front porch of our final lodging destination, Bright Morning B&B, West Newton, PA. West Newton is a trail town along the GAP. The Youghiogheny River flowed flat and calm in front of the inn.
Downtown Pittsburgh, PA, the end of the GAP, was 30 miles north. Jody and I had biked 105 miles of the 150-mile GAP trail. We both came to the decision that the end of the GAP for us would be here.
Driving the scenic backroads of Maryland and Pennsylvania to reach our B&B’s provided Jody and I with a fuller experience than only biking on a flat railway bed. Curvy mountainous roads. Narrow valleys. Hardwood forests. Rivers. Small farms. Amish. Valleys and hillsides were a beautiful shade of green to vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows.
The next morning, we would start the trek home.
Our next adventure? Our next unknown?
In January, Jody and I will be attending National RV Training Academy in Athens, Texas for a one-week class in RV Fundamentals. Learning objectives include, Understanding electrical systems, AC/DC systems, Propane and Water Systems, Air Conditioners & Refrigerators and Water Heaters & Furnaces.
We don’t own an RV … yet.
Right now, we need to clean the dust off our bikes and get them ready for the next ride.
Thanks for painting such a great picture of your trip. While I’m not yet seriously considering my own such trip (I need a new hip first), I am getting a better sense of what I might be in for. and how best to prepare.
Galen & Bonnie
Hi, from Galen and Bonnie
Loved reading your account of the GAP and C&O. We share your opinion of the C&O! We rode both trails, starting with the GAP and ending by riding into DC. We liked the very last part of that trail, but the rest not so much! You’re wise to do the RV learnin’ before buying. We’ll never forget the Canadian Rockies trip with you two. He and I had no idea how to empty the holding tank, but you dug right in there and it got done. I don’t know how that old motor home ever made it on all the miles we put on it! The next one we bought was much more comfortable and reliable. I think that old one ended up as a guy’s goose hunting “cabin!” We always enjoy your posts. We’re also enjoying some great weather in Arizona.
Elizabeth di Grazia
Hi Galen and Bonnie,
Thank you so much for reading my blog post. I haven’t posted for a while. It’s good to be back to writing again. I also remember the Canadian Rockies trip. All of us, especially, couldn’t get past George driving the RV back towards us when he was supposed to be going in the other direction! I had so many bike trips with you both. Jody and I talked about doing the Nachez Trace trail. It’s exciting to still be doing adventures and really going into the unknow like this RV school. I prefer the National Parks, State Parks, B&M lands and State Forests. I like the idea of boondocking. I feel as if there is so many places you can go and not spend a lot of money doing it. We are really new to traveling the States. We spent a lot of travel time returning to Guatemala with the kids. My next post will be about how I felt that it was our job to nurture and care for the children and to return them to their birth families. We had an amazing birth family visit this past year. Crystel (21 years old) was able to speak fluent Spanish to her many nieces, nephews, siblings, and birth mom. We also met with Juan’s birthmom and sister. Love that you are having nice weather in Arizona. Next year, this time, we will be heading out to somewhere. Beth
Ann Helm
Looks like a great trip, Beth! Ann
Elizabeth di Grazia
Thanks for reading, Ann. Glad to see you and Scott doing some of your own traveling.
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2 responses to “The Blue Notebook”
I, too, am a fan of Julia Cameron. For years, I woke up most mornings and walked to a neighborhood coffee shop to write morning pages. And just this past week, I went in search of a notebook that would inspire me to at least try to get back in the habit. Haven’t yet put pen to paper but your post prompted me set a “morning pages” date at my now-favorite coffee shop.
Good for you and sharing your experience. Encouraging!