My journey of 2000 miles began with a single stop less than five miles from my house at the Scheetz on Linglestown Road where I bought gas and Life Savers.

No vacation trip of my childhood could begin without without a stop for fuel and several rolls of Pep-O-mint, Spear-O-mint, and Wint-O-green Life Savers. My sister and I sat in the backseat ready to peel one off and pass it up to my father on request. I came to associate those flavors with long trips to new and exciting places. I also came to associate the terrain beyond the Colonial Park Mall with being "out of town," and I knew that when we passed the clapboard farmhouse just east of the Sears parking lot we were headed for uncharted territory.

That farmhouse still stands, surrounded now by a suburban subdivision, and you have to go a very long way out Route 22 before you are out of town. In fact, I travel the section of I-78 that Route 22 merges with so often to get to Berks County that I have to go north and east for more than an hour before I feel I'm on an adventure.

The trip up to Amherst, Massachusetts was more gruelling than I had anticipated. It took nine hours, in part due to a 50-mile mistake that sent me too far east into Passaic, New Jersey.  So it was nigh on to six o'clock when I arrived at the security office at Amherst College to collect my dorm key.

To call the structure I finally found (it has no house number and is set back from the street along a private way) a "dorm" is to elevate it above what it actually deserves. "Dorm" evokes an image of a long brick building with rows of windows stacked two or three stories high. Chapman House (seen at left) is a 19th century structure on Pleasant Street that has been converted into student housing. The conversion has been neither respectful of historic preservation nor mindful of aesthetic considerations. Perhaps if I were 21 and going to live for a year in this building with my best girlfriends I'd be excited. But as a weekend's accommodation for a middle-aged academic, it fell far short of satisfactory.

"Spartan" is also an overstatement of what I found. The room was about 20 by 20 with a high ceiling. It contained only a bed, a dresser, a desk, and a chair. The dome on the overhead light was gone so that the bare flourescent tube was exposed, giving the place the look and feel of a garage. 

Amherst provided linens and towels. The flat sheets were thin and slid around on the slippery plastic mattress cover, although the mattress itself and the pillow were firm and comfortable. The towels were completely unsatisfactory -- small rectangles about the size and weight of an infant receiving blanket. I went immediately to the Wal-Mart on Route 9 and bought two fluffy white towels ($4.99 each) and a desk lamp ($14.99).

I also stopped at the supermarket for a carton of half-and-half and some breakfast items. At least the place has a kitchen with an almost new, working refrigerator. I set up my coffeepot, my lamp, and my writing materials, and made ready for the next day.