On the Road Again

Kristy and Aaron got up early on Friday morning to see me off. Kristy packed a wonderful little lunch/snack bag with all kinds of tasty surprises for me to discover on the road. As I started backing out of their driveway, they both waved and called “Be careful!” I nodded, and kept on backing up - right into their lilac bushes. I still smile when I remember the significant “I’m glad I’m not going to be on the road this morning” looks they gave each other. Once I got the car straightened out and finally made it out of their driveway, things went much better.

When I’m on the road, I find myself saying things out loud. Just random comments about things I’m seeing, thoughts that are floating through my head when nothing else needs to be there. You know. Those kinds of things. I thought I’d share some of those comments/thoughts with you here.

On the Way to New Mexico:

It’s a much less painful ordeal to fill the Dogmobile up with gasoline than the RV.

There’s a beautiful little yellow crop duster flying over the fields. That would be so much fun! And the soundtrack from Cars is just the perfect music for watching that little yellow crop duster.

A State Trooper is playing games with people - he’s going 73 and the speed limit is 75. Everybody’s piling up behind him.

The gypsy heart is feeling better now and the farmer feet are feeling a little less stuck in the mud.

Disclaimer: Weirdness (Hey, I warned you - these were random thoughts floating through my head. I have no explanation for them).
“You done stomped on my heart
And you mashed that sucker flat
Sweetheart you just sorta stomped on my aorta . . .”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BylPbag1szI&feature=related

The last time I drove to Ogallala, it seemed to take forever. This time, since I know I’m not even halfway to Raton, it doesn’t seem like very far. It’s weird how your mind plays these games with you.

There are three identical vans up ahead - exactly the same color (white), same model, make and year. When one changes lanes, they all change lanes. Looks like a video game!

A possible explanation for the Sontosky Wormhole Effect: My speedometer says I’m going 59 and the flashing sign says I was going 55. Maybe I’m always going a little slower than I think I am.

Its actually really pretty out here - all different shades of soft greens and greys. It’s beautiful out here before it all dries out.
I’m going down Hwy. 71 south instead of going through Denver and Colorado Springs. Totally new territory for me - very pastoral, fields of green but not the same as Nebraska. A lot of the grass is already ripening so there’s a lot more of the wild tan color instead of the lush greenness. This is a two-lane highway going south, and should take me to Rocky Ford (where all the famous canteloupes are). Should hook up with I-25 close to Trinidad.

Nothing but green and blue as far as you can see.

Houses stuck out in the middle of nowhere, no trees - how do they manage? Summers would be sizzling; winters would be just awful.

If beef producers are going to put up signs that say “Nothing Satisfies like Beef,” they should definitely work on putting up a picture of a steak that doesn’t look like a puddle of pus.

This countryside reminds me of pictures I’ve seen of California’s rolling hillsides. Just no ocean. Dang.

I just figured out what the huge difference is between this area and Nebraska. There’s nothing out here. No farms dotting the hillsides. No fences, no people. I’ve missed that emptiness - Nebraska is full of people.

Astonished chipmunks running across the road.

If you really use your imagination, you can see the mountains over to the west.

Ugh. The windshield is covered with buggy gizzard goo.

“No snow plows 7 p.m. to 5 a.m.” Is that a warning to snow plows not to be on the road then, or to people not to expect the roads to be plowed then?

Just passed the Trinidad correction facility. That makes three correction facilities on the way here, so far. It makes you wonder how many criminals they keep in Colorado - or if they just keep them out here because there is no place to run.

Between Raton and Albuquerque:

Where do worms come from? They aren’t in the sandy dirt (and Bob confirmed that), but they are in the grass in Diane’s yard. The robins confirmed that.

New Mexico’s sagebrush country is nature’s Zen garden.

At a rest stop between Rio Rancho and Raton, I stole a slip of Russian Olive in full bloom. It makes the entire car smell wonderful. Scent is one of the most important of the senses to me. Russian Olive takes me immediately back to my childhood and places that I loved.

A hawk carrying something dinner-sized, soaring eye-level with the car.

Disclaimer: Extreme Corniness
Sign saying “Report drunk drivers” and gives a phone number ending with “DWI.” I was tempted to call and turn myself in, because I’m drunk with the beauty of this place.

Things I love about NM:
All the horses you see everywhere
The dryness of the air
The versatility of the landscape
The unusual, beautiful flowers
The variety of birds - much more variety of birds than Nebraska
The hummingbirds
Diane and Kristy, and Bob and Aaron

I like it here.

My spirit feels much less like a wild bird always on the alert fluttering here and there. I feel much more calm. I don’t know how else to explain it. Maybe it’s the Russian Olive. One more thing I love about NM - no bugs. Not just in Rio Rancho, but also Raton.

I’m driving through a valley right now and I look off to the side and the color reminds me of the glaze on a piece of Frankoma pottery, all soft greens and browns.

I keep saying “it is way cool.”

On the way back to Nebraska:

Now I’m on the way back, in Colorado, getting closer to La Junta. There are all these little cactus trees in the fields - they look like candelabras gone crazy.

I wish I could write blog entries while driving.

I am going through some of the most beautiful country ever, even though I know it’s supposed to be desolate. I’m back on Hwy. 350, and it is Back Country USA, and it is absolutely beautiful. (Just saw a sign - this is the Comanche National Grasslands). There are buttes everywhere, covered with grasses, and the goldenrod is glowing in the sunshine. I see train tracks running next to the road - it might be nice to take the train sometime. But driving isn’t bad.

On the importance of friendships: your soul is kind of like the sun, and certain friends are like rays of your sunshine. When you are cut off from them, your life is just a little bit dimmer. That’s the way I felt when I left this morning.

I’m turned around again, in the La Junta/Rocky Ford area. God, I hate being lost. I need a GPS. Google didn’t reference Highway 50 anywhere, and that’s what connects Hwy. 350 to Hwy. 71. A stretch of about 6 miles - you'd think that would be important!

Out here in the middle of nowhere (in Brush, Colorado) Raton almost seems like a mirage in my memory.

I’m just going to have to go back to NM because I didn’t see a roadrunner.

I love the little highways, but the down side is there are no bathrooms and no rest stops, so if you need to go to the bathroom, you need to go to the bathroom for a very long time.

I wonder why the dearth of wildlife in eastern Colorado. No antelope here, but lots of lush green grass. Maybe they’re shy and don’t like to hang out by the highway.

Can I actually cross the California trip off my list? I tried, but didn’t make it. Can I cross it off?

Religious billboard against the idea of evolution - “In the beginning God Created . . .” And they have a picture of man evolving from apes with one of those red circles crossed through plastered over it. My thought: In the beginning God created monkeys, and then man evolved from monkeys.

I love having a tan. It makes my age spots look like freckles.