On the Road

Hot. Flat. Windy.

The road is pretty lonely today. Miles and miles of open field stretch in every direction, punctuated occasionally by a grain silo which marks another small mid-west town along the railway and highway. 

The ‘highway’ is not a highway in an east coast sense of the word. It’s a two lane, center striped, 60 to 65 mph asphalt, undulating, straight shot of an arrow into a space between brown earth exposed by the plow, green waving grass of the coming wheat crop, a few bunches of scattered trees where there is water near the surface, and a blue sky that goes, and goes, and just goes on forever. 

Hot and dry, you can feel the moisture being sucked out of your skin. My hair is dry and standing on end like it was charged with static electricity. I look like some cross between Albert Einstein and Don King in the hair department. 

Guess what? I don’t care. I have fallen into my road persona. As much as we are gawking at the local sights and experience, I realize people are gawking at us. Reminds me of the time in western Pennsylvania when a waitress in a small bar, in a tiny town stated, ‘You ain’t from round here, are ya?’  No Miss. I am not. 

I am not from around here either.  Yet in their manners, behaviors, and accommodation, I feel transported back to a place where I once lived, and is now more alien to me than home. 

A few more pics from yesterday. Seems appropriate.