Road Trip

I hate driving interstate highways. The constant visual assault of billboards and illuminated signs beg you to buy something, believe in something, visit someplace, live someplace, eat something, drink something, do something, don’t do something. They hide any possible view into the horizon and define concrete city blocks.

I draft several diesel 16-wheelers carrying everything from new boats, sheds, and building materials to food, fuel, and Walmart goods, wondering how much speed the drivers took that day to complete their runs. It must be a maddening life for them.

And the leisure travel season has already begun as indicated by the plethora of large campers on the road. These enormous homes on wheels sport painted names on their sides like Freedom Rider, Windstar, and Featherlite — oxymorons to be sure. Smaller campers bear bumper stickers that describe retirees spending their children’s inheritance or the owner’s life philosophy – “A bad day fishing is still better than a good day in the office.”

After eight hours of this type of travel I am relieved to finally leave the freeway behind and get on a two-lane road heading into the retiring sun. I relax a bit as I slow down to a reasonable speed and now see farmers tilling soil creating a slight orange glow around their tractors as dust rises and evening rays penetrate. In the background the southeast Oregon hillsides are bright green with spring grass.

Another 30 minutes of travel brings me to BLM land where I quickly spot a dirt road leading away from the pavement and I take it to find my campsite for the night. Down this road for a mile or so there is a two-track where I can see a cattle pen and water trough in the draw. I pull off onto this path and find a level spot the park. I step out of the van, take in a deep breath, let my shoulders drop, face the cool breeze, and slowly let my breath escape again.

After dinner I sit on the ground, tea in hand, and stretch my legs out on the soft grass beneath me. I listen to the Horned and Meadow Larks sing a few end-of-day songs. The sky is partly filled with clouds outlined in pale orange for a short time before the sun’s glow completely disappears. A sliver of new moon hangs in the zone between cobalt on the horizon and midnight blue directly above my head. My eyes smile. I am finally on my road trip.

2 thoughts on “Road Trip”

  1. You make the end of the day so poetic! Good pic of sky. Keep them coming. I love the pictures always.

    1. Glad your take away was the poetic nature of the piece despite it not technically being a poem. It seems to be the style I have developed over the last couple of years. Thanks for commenting.

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