The title of this blog; Railroads, Rivers, Route 66 and Running, actually comes directly from the idea of wanderlust. I have already shared some of my Route 66 stories in this blog as well as the blog; Still Running After 50 Years and I have shared some river stories in this one as well. I haven't said much about my love of train travel yet and may or may not do so in this particular blog but I will get to it at some point. The highlight of my train travel was a trip with my wife and daughter that originated in Denver, Colorado and went east to Washington, DC and Boston and then south to Waco, Texas. That'll be a story or stories for another time. And if you've read either of my blogs to date you know how my wanderlust is fed by my running travels both local and long distance.
The poet Robert Service wrote a poem called The Wanderlust and I clearly remember the first time that I heard it. I was on a river trip with the Sweeney's and others on the Green River and we had all the rafts tied together like a barge floating through the Great Meander, talking and telling stories on the slow moving section of the river. We were always told to bring something to read or share with the group on river trips and this was an occasion to share. Brian Sweeney pulled a copy of the Service and read it to the group.
I have always enjoyed Service's poems, my father-in-law-, Sam Stout used to recite them a lot. I looked for a book of his work every time I went to a used book store and even at the new bookstores and I finally found one that was comprehensive enough to include The Wanderlust, so I bought it. I am going to share just the first two stanzas here because it really does explain some of my thoughts on, Railroads, Rivers, Route 66 and Running.
THE WANDERLUST
The Wanderlust has lured me to the seven lonely seas,
Has dumped me on the tailing-piles of dearth;
The Wanderlust has haled me from the morris chair of ease,
Has hurled me to the ends of all the earth.
How bitterly I've cursed it, oh, the Painted Desert knows,
The wraithlike heights that hug the pallid plain,
The all-but-fluid silence,--yet the longing grows and grows,
And I've got to glut the Wanderlust again.
Soldier, sailor, in what a plight I've been!
Tinker, tailor, oh what a sight I've seen!
And I'm hitting the trail in the morning, boys,
And you won't see my heels for dust;
For it's "all day" with you
When you answer the cue
Of the Wan-der-lust
It goes on for another 8 stanzas but I'm sure that you get the point. It's all about travel and the happiness that it brings.
The flip side of my love for travel is how much I enjoy returning home after a trip, no matter if the trip is a few days or a few weeks, it always feels good to get home. As long as I'm using poetry to try to explain myself here is another old poem this one by Edward Albert Guest.
HOME
It takes a heap o' livin' in a house t' make it home,
A heap o' sun an' shadder, an' ye sometimes have t' roam
Afore ye really 'preciate the things ye lef' behind,
An' hunger fer 'em somehow, with 'em allus on yer mind.
It don't make any differunce how rich ye get t' be,
How much yer chairs an' tables cost, how great yer luxury;
It ain't home t' ye, though it be the palace of a king,
Until somehow yer soul is sort o' wrapped round everything.
Like the Service poem there is more to this one as well but I thing this much gives a sense of the message.
So, Wanderlust or Home, I feel Blessed that I am able to travel where and when I can and I feel Blessed that I always have a home to return to.
I don't know if this particular post helps make more sense of the title of this blog but it made sense writing it.
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