The patience and forgiveness that has to function with three people in tight confines for days on end is an incredible exercise in humanity, but I fear I’m out of practice with it. Looking at the calendar, as long as we had the incredible visual aesthetic of the West outside the window I think there was part of me that was excited to stay on the move, stay on the road, stay on the wind – but now – with nothing but cornfields for company and Montana another hundred miles before we stop, I’m so relieved that this time a week from now we’ll be home – or at least close enough that if I just threw myself out the door someone would probably come and pick me up.
Cornfields are pretty too, but without the drama of the vertiginous crags and stones of western Colorado, I guess we’re making our OWN drama and I’m exhausted.
We haven’t played nearly as much as I’d like on this trip. We’ve checked off boxes and clocked miles and was perhaps too ambitious, especially fitting a trip to Reno and back on top of the stated mission of Finishing America – though the strategic and financial wisdom of that was shown to be absolutely undeniable. But I think there’s also a toll to be paid when all you want to do is play and instead you’re stuck in a car, watching the … well… the corn go by.
Last night we rolled in and visited with my old friend Jennie. She and I could rule the world if we wanted to. We’re smart and we’re angry and I don’t know that I’ve ever encountered someone else that reflects the level of calculated rage as I have. We could have been supervillains if we’d wanted – and she jokes that maybe after she retires she’d be open to that. Fortunately she has her painting and I have my music, and so the world is spared our angry attentions.
And her garden is beautiful, and perhaps it soothes. I certainly felt a bit of healing from just walking through and exploring. I’d say I’d left no stone unturned but her husband has truly created something close to perfection and moving even a pebble would be tantamount to blasphemy. About halfway through my exploration Kristen joined me, and then later I insisted that Heather spend some time there before getting in the car. It maybe cost us time, but time is there to be spent.
Tonight we’re crashing with someone who took us in sight unseen 21 years and 10 months ago. We haven’t seen one another since, though we’ve kept very, very loosely in touch. We’ve all gone though some Life recently – and over the course of 20 years many things have changed (ha – for example, he won’t be the only minister in the room this time around!), so I was pleasantly surprised that he and Gail were still willing and able to take us in, and they mention there’s still apple pie.
I’m so grateful I’ve kept the Tour Journal all these years. We listened to his CD 20+ years ago, we described him glowingly, we reference a purple car and a flaming Winnebago. I only remember the front of the house and the snow.
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