High Desert Highway

High desert for miles around.
A highway cuts through it from horizon to horizon
with a town every 100 miles or so.
To some, it seems desolate.
To others, it is beautiful like no other place.
Storms to the rear have already doused the earth
with a cleansing rain, and the sweet smell of wet
sage brush fills the air to be taken in and savored.
It is the lonely road, the loneliest highway
that exposes you to this beauty.



The sign said, “detour, turn left. Road closed .8 miles ahead. Local traffic only.” The detour was also south and away from the intended northwesterly route. How far south would it go? How much of a detour will it be? All reasonable questions.

Life is like that. You come upon an unexpected obstacle and can follow the signs to get around it. Follow the path that someone else has laid out for you, and you will arrive … eventually. Usually, the route is not terrible, it’s intended to carry heavier traffic and yet more time consuming. It can be an inconvenience or a blessing. The detour will eventually take you around the obstacle and back onto your original route. But, the detour path is always somebody else’s idea.

What if there is another route? Where does the road to the right go? What will I discover? Will I get lost if I don’t follow the signs. Will it take longer? All reasonable questions.

There is an explorer in all of us. We all seek adventure to some degree. Granted, there may be adventure in following the signs, but the greater adventure is wandering through the countryside zigzagging down country roads. You may find twisty roads and a countryside dotted with farms. Horses in the pasture. Giant bales of hay freshly cut and rolled awaiting pick up. Clumps of crossroad buildings that carry a name, but are too small to be shown as a small town on the highway maps.

Yes, there is much to be discovered by not following the detour.

I turned right onto a freshly paved country road, and it made all the difference.

See you on the highway.


Motorcycling through Autumn


I have a few favorite roads near my home—curvy, over hill and dale, and alongside a scenic river. These roads are perfect for motorcycling, but especially in the autumn.

The sun seems a little brighter, and the sky more blue as golden leaves fall from the trees. The wind on my face is crisp and refreshing. The motorcycle purrs along waiting for the throttle to be twisted. But, it is not to be.

The moment is surreal, not to be rushed but savored. This is motorcycling through autumn, and I am pacing myself, taking it all in to refresh my spirit.

See you on the highway.