Division Essay

I'm Going Home

I grew up in a small town in New Hampshire and often go back to visit friends, attend events, and to remember the old days. It is a long drive to Keene and for this reason I don’t go back there very often, but when I do find a reason to make the trip I Divide my trip into three parts. Each part is marked by a change in the road and a change in emotion. The first section is I-95 accompanied by anxiety. Section two is the N.H highways and a peaceful feeling. Section three brings on the back roads and a nostalgic feeling.

I've got my bags packed and can’t wait to take my wife Amy to my old stomping grounds where I grew up. Naturally I've been sitting in the truck for twenty minutes waiting for Amy to finish her final inspection of the house and her tenth review of the instructions to be left for our parents who will be watching the house while we are gone.  Finally we hit the road only twenty minutes behind schedule. I turn onto I-95 South and put the hammer down in a macho attempt to make up for lost time. The road is smooth and straight for the next 2.5 hours as we make our way down the boring Maine Turnpike. I can’t drive fast enough at this point to suit my soul so I turn on the I-pod. Instantly a continuous medially of rock n roll and heavy metal music floods the truck.  I look over at Amy and see her singing along and decide to join in as well. “Highway to the danger zone, I’m gonna take you right into the danger zone”. Without even knowing it we are hauling ass and making up time. “Jeremy stop at the Gardiner rest stop so I can pee.” The warden demands. One pee break down and a fresh cup of coffee later and we are back on the road listening to Billy Joel remind us that he didn’t start the fire. Soon we blow through Portland and though the coast. At this point I’m so anxious to get to Keene I’m physically shaking, on second thought it could be the four cups of coffee or the three lanes of traffic going 90 MPH. Soon we come to the big green bridge as I called it as a kid and finish up our first leg of the trip.

Once over the N.H state line I strip my seat belt off and sit up straight in my seat. Amy looks over at me and says “Why did you take off your seatbelt?” “In N.H we live free or die” I reply. She laughs at me and states “well you’re a Mainer now dumbass.”  We pull up, pay the toll and head into the heart of N.H. Here the road changes, you can tell that much more care is put into every mile. The tar is a dark black color and the yellow lines are bright. The foliage is beautiful and the mountains are breath taking. All along I-93 and I-89 are big beautiful boulders that were blasted many years ago to make way for the roads we travel today. I love the big pieces of granite that have been carved out. These roads are much more peaceful and fun to travel then I-95. At this point in the trip I start spouting off old stories about hunting and fishing in N.H. I tell my wife of all the fun I’ve had in this wonderful state. Soon we hit exit #5 off of I-89 and make our way towards Keene.

Once off of I-89 we continue the trip on the back roads of N.H. This is my favorite part of the trip driving through all of the little towns and looking at all the shops. I don’t even need to look at the road to know where I’m going, I’ve been over these roads hundreds of times and it seems like my truck knows exactly where to go. We pass Granite Lake and make our way through Hillsboro and all of a sudden I can see myself jumping of that old wooden dock right into the lake. I pass the old ice cream stand and instantly taste a hint of chocolate chip. Now the road starts to get bumpy and very curvy as we follow the river closer and closer to Keene. All I can think about are my days at KHS working in shop class, the texture of the football field, the late night parties and mud runs. Now my I-pod starts to play my country selections and it is quite fitting as I’m about to enter the city limits of Keene. I play my welcome home song “ I’m going home” as we pull onto West street and head toward my best friend Seth’s house on Main street. I've got my arm hanging out of my window singing "I'm going home to a place were I belong". We make our way around the common in the center of town and pull into the drive way. Now my cell starts to ring of the hook with countless friends from school wanting to know “hey was that you I just saw on Main Street?” Now I know I’m home and the journey is over.

It doesn't matter how many times I make this trip or who I bring to town I always feel the same way when I reach my destination. Who says you can’t go home?