searching for jack: an untold tale of the spring roadtrip

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As mentioned previously, I never finished the tale of my spring swing through New England and Montreal. We go to day 6 on the road, as the intrepid traveller leaves Boston to head back to the Great White North. Today's tale begins a few miles north of Beantown...

Wandered into Lowell. I checked the Boston guide book and discovered this was where Jack Kerouac permanently left the road. I wasn't in a hurry and there wasn't a downpour. Why not look for it?

The graveyard was listed in the guide book, so I checked a map in a grocery store for directions. Found Edson Cemetery, but the office was as lively as the folks in the ground. I drove up and down the numbered streets within the graveyard, looking for any unusual adornments to the graves. All I found was a giant elk.

I asked him for directions.



"What are you, some pinko from Soviet Canuckistan? Go away kid, ya bodder me!"

Deciding it was best not to ask him any more questions, I continued criss-crossing the graves, but many of the driveways were blocked off by debris from the lingering nor'easter. After 15 minutes, I gave up.

As I drove away, the elk laughed. - JB

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