Book Review: Exit Culture: Words and Photos from the Open Road, by Paul Vlachos

I've just returned from a road trip … a very long road trip lasting decades and well over two or three hundred thousand miles. It was a blast!

Paul Vlachos' new book, Exit Culture: Words and Photos from the Open Road is a collection of monthly columns for an unnamed periodical that he has published in book form. The narrative starts with a history of his photography and building the archive of photos from which all these stories are gleaned. When he started this pastime, he was ten years old when images were etched on film.

It's an ancient technology, as many born in the 21st Century would probably think. It was somewhat cumbersome and limited … only a certain number of pictures per roll of film. And you had to wait a week or two until the processing company developed them for you. Vlachos used a tripod rather than simply pointing and shooting all the time. He spent thousands of dollars on cameras, film, and developing chemicals to produce a visual library of his life.

After explaining all this, he begins his log of journeys based on themes: road signs, motels, eateries, food … especially donuts … towns, and wide-open spaces mostly in the American West. He particularly loves the deserts, the Great Basin being high on his list. He talks about the people he met, some leading to transient yet deep relationships encountered on the road. One in particular, an old man who ran the Lariat Motel in Fallon, NV, is truly poignant.

Driving a van or a Suburban to facilitate camping, he mentions Peggy as one of his passengers on many of these trips. He claims they were good friends rather than romantically tied, so that makes for a compatible travel companion. Many of his wanderings, however, were spent alone, blaring his tunes in a rented Mustang convertible … or not. Silence and solitude were some of the elements he sought throughout these meanderings. Perhaps his favorite and most amiable travel buddies were two dogs, Elko and Santo.

He found Elko on I-80 east of Winnemucca, NV. Spotting him along the side of the highway, Vlachos chased back and forth trying to snag the little guy. Finding only kill shelters locally, Vlachos resigned himself to taking Elko back to New York City, hoping the dog could travel that long distance amicably. Elko settled on top of the cooler and became Vlachos' co-pilot. After Elko died, Santo entered the scene as a pup. He was just as eager to share the adventures as Elko was.

Of course, I snuck into the backseat and followed wherever Vlachos went. Up and down both coasts, across vast deserts, through hundreds of lonesome towns barely surviving the passage of time and technology, we explored America in a way that no travel agency would even consider. And we were much richer for the experience.

Americans need to see their country in this way, to taste the diverse foods, do business with outback groceries and gas stations, and converse with folks who live their entire lives in these backwaters. These people are the bedrock of our restless society, the ones who pin us to the earth. As an example of such folks, Vlachos introduces us to his family and how they made their way to America. Living in Manhattan in their early years, they uprooted and migrated once again to suburbia where Vlachos spent his boyhood. There, they lived for the remainder of their lives. After college, however, Vlachos found he couldn't live in that safe and predictable place. Thus, he returned to Manhattan, settling, with frequent diversions to the highway, in Greenwich Village.

Vlachos laments the gentrification of America and its dive into soulless commercial progress. His beloved Greenwich Village has become inhospitable to him these days and he struggles to gather his things and emotional energy to move away. He delves deeper into this conundrum here:

Limbo

Because so many of Vlachos' stories drew out my own travel memories, it was sometimes difficult for me to stay focused. A word or phrase, a vignette or photo would send me drifting off the page and into a long-ago travel log of my own. I'd have to wake from my reverie and concentrate back on his essays. They were fine memories, though. I found it comforting to dive into this book and share the wonder and beauty of this country, to relate to his current dilemma of "finding home," or even defining what that is.

In his final chapter, he describes how Elko and Santo each reacted when arriving back at home base in New York City. Both dogs scampered up the driveway, anticipating the favorite nest on the couch with familiar toys and smells. They were quite aware of where home was even if Vlachos is still questioning that concept.

Searching for that place that hums the same tune that is in his heart, Vlachos continues his travels and probably will until he dies. Wherever he ends up, I hope he invites us along for the ride.

Available here: https://www.amazon.com/EXIT-CULTURE-WORDS-PHOTOS-OPEN/dp/0991453565