Blue Highway

image from pinterest.

Blue Highway

“When you’re traveling, you are who you are every moment.

People do not have your past to hold against you.  There are

no yesterdays on the road.--William Least-Heat Moon.

When I was 19, or there about,

there was this TV series

called ROUTE 66;

all about two young men in a

Corvette Sting Ray having 

adventures up & down

the historic interstate.

                                                          I just couldn’t wait for that magical

                                                          time that it would be me on

                                                          incredible road trips; stretched

                                                          out in tire-screeching cacophony 

                                                          from the City of Angels

                                                          to the Windy City:

                                                          hot damn!

In Barstow, CA., I passed by

old highway 395 that snakes

north up along the Sierras,

where in 1983, I had a bona fide

UFO encounter at 3am between

Red Mountain & China Lake,

in the triangle between Edwards AFB,

Area 51 & Death Valley.

                                                         Outside Flagstaff, AZ, north of

                                                         Sonoma & west of Monument

                                                         Valley, I visited ancient native cliff

                                                         dwellings in Chestnut Canyon.

                                                         My wife had the energy to climb

                                                         up & down the steep ladders, while

                                                         I sat in the shade using binoculars.

In Gallop, NM, we discovered 

this family-run Tex-Mex diner

that served good cheer, & the

best chicken fried steak in the

state, as well as deep fried

sopapellos slathered in honey

& whip cream. We stop by every

summer to treat the taste buds.

                                                         

                                         Route 66 is not

                                         a continuous highway

                                         any more--but who minds?

Glenn Buttkus

posted over at dVerse Poets Pub "Poetics"