North to Pennsylvania

From South Carolina to Pennsylvania and Back

We drove straight through, some seven hundred miles, across five states, for a bit over twelve hours. By the end of our impromptu semi-vacation, we decided that we missed the Lowcountry and wanted to get home as fast as possible. As we entered the South Carolina Lowcountry the sun set over the cypresses and the Spanish moss, and we were greeted by a magnificent lightning storm. It felt like home.

Several weeks earlier my wife, who has been great at creating a community of friends since moving here, told me that we were invited to her friend’s wedding in Pennsylvania. I was invited but she said I didn’t want to go, she would fly up with our daughter which would give me a few days of alone time to relax and write uninterrupted. I considered this, free time, all to myself, is hard to come by when you have kids. I even considered taking time off of work so I could just stay home and do nothing but write.

But, I got to thinking. I’ve never been to Pennsylvania. I’ve never been to most of the states above the Mason-Dixie, and I love traveling. So after looking at the map I decided to take some time off from work and make this into a late summer trip. Even better the wedding was an hour or two outside Pittsburgh, a city I’ve never gotten around to visiting.

We set out early in the morning driving north up the highway through South Carolina, North Carolina, and finally Virginia where we stopped to spend the night in Wythville at the Bolling Wilson Hotel. Wytheville is a beautiful small town, its main street is right out of Mayberry and I can imagine many towns like this being the soul of an American culture long gone. We spent the afternoon walking around, taking in the beautiful brick churches, and having a nice dinner followed by cocktails on the hotel roof. The Bolling Wilson was built in the late 1920s and is named after Edith Bolling Wilson, the 1st Lady who was born in Wytheville. It’s a beautiful quaint building filled with historical photographs. The front desk lady told my wife and daughter about the supposed haunted episodes and gave them a book about strange happenings, she even told my wife about an episode that recently took place where a guest spent some time with a bartender who wasn’t there. We didn’t experience any supernatural phenomena; I think spirits are weary of my sorcerous powers and steer clear. I also found out that Wytheville is the hometown of William Gibson, the author of Neuromancer. I can only imagine how frustrated he must have been growing up in a religious small town Mayberry on the far edge of Virginia. Nothing about the place makes you think cyberpunk.

The following morning, we continued north through West Virginia. Going up the mountains was great, since moving out of California I haven’t experienced any elevation and it was nice driving through a different environment. Mountains out here in the East are different than the West, lush, green, heavily wooded, densely packed. The West is vast, brooding, barren, and dangerous. The West feels untouched and dangerous while the East is more mysterious, like it hides old secrets. What I saw of West Virginia was beautiful, I want to come spend some time out in the woods, camp by the rivers, and explore more of it in earnest.

We finally made it to our destination, a small town in Western Pennsylvania. Beautiful country. Green, lush, fresh air, and beautiful rolling hills and rivers. The wedding took place on the family farm, several generations of family were present, and it was wonderful seeing children playing in the fields, fishing in the creek, and everyone having a great time celebrating the start of a new family. My daughter had a great time, she spent hours petting donkeys, chasing ducks, and running wild. I can see the romantic nature of living in a place like that, with open land, creeks, and animals. Our friends must have had such a different childhood compared to how I grew up in the middle of the Los Angeles sprawl. But, I’m forty years old and deep down an urbanite. I would feel lonely and isolated out there and I don’t know anything about raising livestock

.After the wedding weekend, we said our goodbyes and set east to Pittsburgh where we checked into a hotel in the middle of downtown occupying what used to be a branch of the Federal Reserve. Pittsburgh is a fascinating city, everywhere you look there are signs of Gilded Age opulence decaying in an era where the steel industry is no more. We spent some time walking the streets, visited the zoo, and a great children’s museum, and ate at several restaurants. I wanted to check out the Andy Warhol museum, Pittsburgh being his hometown it has one of the largest collections of Warhol art anywhere, but it was closed and we ran out of time.

Walking around Pittsburgh I couldn’t help comparing and contrasting the city to Bucharest which we visited several months ago. Bucharest is a city that feels re-vitalized, sloughing off the decades of Communist stagnation and repression, and blooming once again. Bucharest was vibrant, with cafes and restaurants full of people, beautiful parks with children playing, and more bookstores and art exhibits than I could visit. Pittsburgh in contrast felt decayed, sad, and falling apart. The streets downtown were filled with homeless bums sitting around smoking, begging for change. It felt unsafe, not as bad as Los Angeles, but there is a feeling of getting there as the disease that destroyed L.A. has arrived here, and if you know what the signs and symptoms are you can diagnose the terminal decline. Most of all Pittsburgh feels like a city with a confused character. The architecture and layout are from an era of a working class industry that no longer exists and there’s now a layer, an attempt to transplant elements of progressive gentrified hipsterism that clashes with the very soul of the city. Trendy Asian fusion restaurants and microbrew bars that would be right at home in San Diego felt forced and out of place in Pittsburgh. I was ready to leave after one night.

The highlight of my time in Pittsburgh, and one of the main reasons I decided to detour in the first place was to finally meet my long-time friend, the best writer of independent science fiction, Pilum’s Schuyler Herenstrom. I’ve been a fan of the man's writing for many years and he’s been an inspiration to my work for a long time. He took time off from his busy schedule of being the Barbarian Prince of Pittsburgh to show me around a bit and we spent an afternoon drinking coffee and talking literature. I’m going to write up a more in-depth piece on his work soon, but if you haven’t read his work I recommend you pick something up right away. I also interviewed him a few years ago and I’ll try to track it down and republish it on Substack.

After two nights in Pittsburgh, we ate breakfast and began the journey to South Carolina. I was ready to go home, I missed the Lowcountry.

Lowcountry

Yesterday was our first day back. It happened to be the 10th anniversary of our marriage. A wonderful 10 years, and I look forward to many more with my wife. The first anniversary of us moving across the country from California to South Carolina is a few weeks away and after our trip North, I’m even more grateful to start a new life in such a beautiful place. We celebrated our anniversary with dinner and drinks in one of the local historic districts. It was appropriate, so we spent the evening walking around taking in the beautiful moss-covered trees and historical houses built in the 19th century. The Lowcountry is a magical place, supernatural. There is a light, an aura to the land that is poetic and mysterious. I’ve fallen desperately in love with the marshes, with the hanging moss, the sea birds, and the alligators. I love it here and so does my wife. I think we will stay.