March 2011
Road trip number 9; onward to the Lower Colorado River. Call me crazy, but the open road breeds a feeling of newness and invincibility. Bringing someone along who hasn’t experienced it reminds me of the first time I trekked past my east coast roots. Wild open landscapes and the kindness of strangers.
My sister delights in the marvels along our way; Beale St., the ability to buy wine in gas stations (not a luxury we enjoy in Delaware), and the ever-changing landscape. West Texas calls, it’s been years since I’ve been to the ranch where I once herded cattle and fell in love with a family as kind as the giant open skies. The ten-mile dirt road takes over an hour and a half for the Midnight Rambler to conquer. Beautiful ghosts of the past shake my soul, as well as my car.