Santa Fe to NY, March 2005

I used to keep a journal and write at least once daily. That fell by the wayside many years ago, but I still do have a journal, which I write in from time to time. For me, in addition to creating a record of what happened when, writing has always been, among other things, a way to sift through the cacophonic rantings in my head.

And I used to keep a scrapbook, long before "scrapbooking" became a big-box marketing bonanza that people like me sneer now at. I'd put in pictures I'd taken, sometimes even from film I'd developed and prints I'd made myself in the darkroom (remember prints?), as well as clippings from newspapers and magazine, ticket stubs, cards - you know, the usual real-life stuff that scrapbooks used to be made of. 

I dug out my journal from that first "reconnaissance mission" in March of 2005 and was disappointed to find only one entry. But here it is:

Clinton, OK, March 12, 2005

We were going to take the girls [our two younger dogs, Agnes and Boo, still not yet a year old] and leave Jack [the oldster] with K., the housesitter, but K. didn't show up when he was supposed to and so we changed the plan and brought "the whole fandamnily," as J likes to say. Didn't actually leave until 2 p.m. (only 5 hours late!) and so we didn't get to Clinton - about an hour west of OKC till 11 pm or so. We stopped several times on the way, and it was wonderful to see the girls exploring the new environs - a rest stop with green, tallish grass in TX, then another one in OK, very steep hill with a woods at the bottom. Little Wildlings. Jack seems to be faring okay. Agnes likes it best up front, sitting between us, nose to the air vents. Last night we stopped at the Trade Winds Motor Lodge. The kid behind the counter, curly hair all over his eyes, just 18, and a bunch of his friends were hanging out there, keeping him company. After I'd checked in and gotten the "complimentary" Elvis story, the kid said,"Remember: What happens at the Trade Winds stays at the Trade Winds."

Oh, and we stopped at Cadillac Ranch! We weren't planning on going but I had told J about it and spotted it from the highway just in time, and so we went, just as the sun set and darkness fell. 

This morning it is bright, sunny, and warm - must be in the 60s. the dogs are good, and are getting used to being in unfamiliar places, being taken on leash, etc. The pastures or farmlands are this intense green here, like a Crayola crayon color, like a color if you saw it in a photograph you'd think someone had bumped up the saturation. A deep, shocking lime green, almost chartreuse, and such a contrast to the fallow fields around, and the dark silhouettes of the trees, still not yet leafed out. 

The drive last night was beautiful, too. Green pastures and brown fields and pink sky...old grain elevators with their white paint all peeling in that perfect lead-paint way, the romantic patina of the Rt. 66 heyday. I wonder if I'll ever tire of silos and grain elevators - one really beautiful one was just concrete, very "modern" looking, almost art-deco. 

J is in an antique store. Jack's on the "sofa" and the girls are lying on the floor, in the shade. I hope we get going soon. Want to make it to Nashville tonight.