update

Pics: 1. Leaving Kiowa bound for Ohio (Pauly's hat on the dash).

2. Chuck out the front of the World's largest truck stop (the I80 in Walcott Iowa)

I've had a bit of a break from the blog. I was craving a bit of anonymity after harvest. Toward the end it kept hitting me that I was in someone's company pretty much every waking minute (or at least within ear's shot). We'd get up, pile in a truck, stop at the servo for a coffee and something unhealthy, head to the field and then sit in our respective machines talking to each other all day on the two-way before heading back to the camper in the evening.

It's been a busy and eventful few weeks. We got back to Kiowa on the 28th of November. I was on a real high but very much knew that harvest had run its course. Despite the fact that the homeward journey had stirred up some nostalgia, I had also, for a long time, been looking forward to the next phase of my trip, New York City.

I'd looked into flights, the train and the Greyhound but it dawned on me that I could hitch a ride with Pauly to his hometown in Ohio, which would get me three quarters of way there.

I also mentioned to Pauly that I might be in the market for a small four wheel drive to take to Vancouver and the snow once finished on the East coast. His reply was, "Yeah, no problem. We'll find you a little truck". By 'truck' he meant pick-up truck and, as soon as he uttered those words, a little boy's pipe dream was born. I didn't care how impractical it was, I wanted to own a pick-up and I wanted to drive it trans-America. Little did I know that a week down the track I'd meet Chuck. More on that later.

Pauly, outnumbered nine to one for seven months, was keen to interact with Americans again, and most of all his family, so we left for Ohio the morning after we got back to Kiowa. Turns out that Pauly was pretty bloody keen to get home...we drove a mammoth 1,100 miles (1,800km); 18 hours across Kansas, Missouri, Illinois, Indiana and then finally into Ohio. I stayed at Pauly's place for five days. Most of the time was spent looking for Chuck and also visiting several of Paul's relatives who were all really pleased to see him after such a long absence.

Chuck. He's named after a certain cult martial arts expert of Walker Texas Ranger fame. The reason being he's a '93 Ford Ranger...Ideally I'd have him carrying Texas plates, but it wasn't to be. Anyway, just like the guy he's named after, he kicks arse. Dan was hitting me up to hang the chrome balls of his bumper. I told my Mum about the idea and her reply was something along the lines of "James you won't be turning up to a family Christmas (in Vancouver) with testicles hanging off your car". I got some key ring sized chrome balls instead.

Anyway, the Chuck purchase was a risk. Everything looked good on paper but with a vehicle that old you never know what's going to happen a few miles down the road. I have to say, the risk felt good. I've been super cautious in the past which has its advantages but it can be stifling as well. One thing that I've learned from the past 18 months is that every major (and sometimes very painful) hurdle that life has thrown my way, has ultimately resulted in a strengthening, often exciting, and ultimately good outcome. Wow, I've gone from Martial Arts cars to life lessons in the space of a paragraph.

I left Chuck with Pauly and his mate Justin to sort out rego etc and I finally made it to New York. I would return two weeks later to start my 3000 mile-5000km Westbound journey and it certainly provided some adventures.