you were a kid and your folks would drag you everywhere?
I have been traveling this road since I was two years old; from the age of two till about twelve we would drive it at least twice a month, after a while I stopped seeing it. I remember the whole highway as a black ribbon with wormy tar mark trails all over it.
When I remember this specific area, I think of it as: the place just after we drop off of the pass with the aspen trees, where my ears always pop, just after the railroad ghost town, where I had my one and only piece of gooseberry pie (Which is still my favorite pie, right next to strawberry-rhubarb. Actually rhubarb is my favorite. But since grandma died and I don’t bake I have to eat strawberry-rhubarb, cause people who bake like it better that way. I don’t, but it’s still pretty good that way so I don’t complain.) right after we pass that crazy, lonely little trailer park that’s just stuck on the side of a hill all by it’s lonesome — which is just before the hill that drops into the next little town, where my dad will FINALLY let us take another indoor potty break.
This is a pretty lonely stretch of road. When I started driving it for myself as an adult and had to actually pay attention I would keep my eyes riveted to the road, for fear I’d break down or get lost if I dared to take them away.
Now I have driven it so much that it’s auto-pilot and I can take my time to just enjoy the scenery. It takes me an extra hour to make the trip just so I can stop the car and take pictures. And since I don’t mind peeing outdoors now (I hated it as a kid, I had the worst aim) I can take my time getting to that last hill, just before that last potty break, which is the last stop before Grandads; even though he is gone it’s still his place.
No Comments