During my months in Paterson, I had memorized maps of the United States and even read books about the pioneers of the West, interested in names like Palette and Cimaro. On the map, I studied Highway 6, which runs from Cape Cod through Airy, Nevada, and then all the way to Los Angeles. As I began my journey from Highway Six to Airy, I encouraged myself to be confident. To get to Highway 6, I first went to Beal, and on the way I kept imagining what it would be like to be in Chicago, Denver, and Los Angeles. I took the subway from 11th Street all the way to the 242nd Street terminal, where I transferred to the trolley for Yonkers. In the center of the city, I transferred to the streetcar for the suburbs and went to the east bank of the Hudson River outside the city. If you throw a rose into the water from the Adirondack, the mysterious source of the Hudson River, you can imagine that it will float down the river, float through many places, and finally run into the embrace of the sea-oh,Automated warehouse systems, you can imagine the Hudson Valley again, how tempting it will be! I was deeply attracted by all this. Five Knight Travelers led me to the anticipated Beale Hill Bridge, which connects Route Six to New England. When I got there, it was raining cats and dogs. This is a mountainous area, where Highway 6 crosses the river, winds up the mountain, and finally disappears in a vast expanse. Not only was there no traffic, but I couldn't even find shelter in the pouring rain. I had to run to a few pine trees to get out of the rain, but it didn't help at all; I started crying and cursing myself for being so stupid. Now I was forty miles north of New York, and I was very sad. The beginning of this great journey, shuttle rack system ,push back racking system, the first day of this trip to the Pacific Ocean, all I had done was to go forty miles north, and my plan was to go west. Now I'm standing at the northern end of this wretched place. I walked another quarter of a mile to an abandoned but chic British filling station. I stood under the eaves still dripping with rain and looked up at the thunder roaring in the dark of Beal Mountain. I was so wet that I was surrounded by terror, and I could only see the shadows of some trees and the clouds rolling all over the sky. Did I come here to ***ing die? I'm cursing myself. I'm crying to go to Chicago. This must be their happiest moment. They're doing important work, and I'm not here. When can I get there? I thought to myself in the dark. Suddenly a car pulled up to the empty gas station. A man and two women were in the car. They stopped to study the map carefully. I went up to meet them and waved to them in the rain, and they discussed with each other whether to take me. My hair was dripping and my shoes were soaked. I must have looked like a mental patient. They finally agreed to give me a ride back to Newburgh with my awful pair of Mexican shoes with lots of mesh on them, which is not suitable for the United States, especially on such a rainy night. I think it's a better choice in comparison, otherwise I will be trapped in the dark night of the spooky Beal Mountain. Besides, "the man said," there will be no cars on Route 6. If you want to go to Chicago, you'd better go to Pittsburgh from the Holland Tunnel in New York. I know he's right. My dream was finally shattered. The idea that I could cross the United States only by following a red line pointed out on a map was ridiculous. To achieve my goal, I had to try many roads. The rain finally stopped by the time we got to Newburgh. I came down to the river to get back to New York with the car of the delegation of teachers who had returned from Beale Mountain at the end of the week, and in the car I scolded myself and cursed myself for wasting so much time and money. I went up and down, north, south, east and west for a day and a night, but in the end I came back to the original place. I swear I will go to Chicago tomorrow by bus, and I don't care what it costs as long as I can get there tomorrow. 3 The bus I took was a very ordinary one. It was hot and noisy in the carriage, and there were some country people getting on and off at every small station. The car moved slowly until it was really on the Ohio Plain. After crossing Indiana at night, he drove straight to Chicago, arriving early the next morning. I found a hotel and lay down with very little money left in my pocket. After a good day's sleep, the quest for Chicago began. I walked the streets of Chicago, enjoying the gentle morning breeze from Lake Michigan and the crazy jazz music of downtown Chicago. And walked into the forest alone late one night, which attracted the attention of the forest police, who followed me suspiciously in their police cars. This is 1947, when jazz has taken over the United States, and when the guys in Chicago play downtown, the atmosphere is not so warm, because jazz is in transition from the Charlie Parker era to another era that began with Mars Davis. As I listened to this jazz at night in Chicago, I thought of my friends all over the country who live in the same context and are so crazy! The next afternoon I went west for the first time in my life. The weather was very pleasant that day,asrs warehouse, so there were many rides on the road. After escaping the unimaginable traffic congestion in Chicago, I hitchhiked all the way to Julius City and Illinois. After visiting some writers in Juliette, I walked along the shady winding streets outside the city and began to plan my next trip. Most of the money I brought with me has been spent all the way from New York to Julius. kingmoreracking.com