Last day

Colorado and Utah were spectacular. From snow dusted, frozen rivers and precarious peaks, to vast, snow covered landscapes, I can't imagine a better part of the US to take the last stretch of my trip on. Driving through the Rockies this morning was like being on an accelerated winter driving course. When I began the ascent, the temperature was hovering around 38 degrees, and within a half an hour, it had dropped to -3. Ice covered the winding, undulating, mountain traverses. The Blizzack tires I had installed in Kansas City were impeccable. The amount of grip they demanded in snowy Kansas (allowing me to drive a treacherous fifty miles past big rig accidents, stalled cars, and ditches that seemed to be teeming with fresh four-wheeled iron), worked just as well over the icy roads in Colorado. If I had somehow made it through Kansas with my old tires, I simply would have found myself huddled in my mummy bag, in the back of my car, waiting for a brave tow truck driver to rescue me out of the Rockies.

The strange scenes I passed today are too many to list (or perhaps I am too tired to try), but one really stands out. Around the time the temperature bottomed out, I came upon a small factory, nestled in a tiny town. Out of it's four smokestacks came steam. The steam welled up to create a tiny cloud, that sat completely motionless above the building, leading me to believe that this was probably a cloud factory (picture below).

I will not write about my day tomorrow, as it is a route that I have taken many times, and as anyone who has driven up I-5 from LA can attest, it is the sheer lack of anything remotely interesting that makes the drive so mind-numbing. The amount of caffeine I have to drink to stay awake usually leaves me in a jittery stupor anyways, and I am certain my resulting ramblings would have ended up making sense to me, and me only.

So I leave with this….

I think every good adventure leaves you with more questions than answers. For me, I found that the pursuit of the questions, rather than the answers, is in fact the pursuit of happiness. Renewed hope and faith comes from the acceptance and the understanding that the world is so much bigger than you, and despite the handful of painful (and occasionally crushing) unforeseen events of the last couple of years, I no longer feel hopeless, but instead, for the first time I feel truly blessed. I am thankful for my wonderful family, especially Katy (who supported my 'man mission'), and Tinker and Pat, who made me feel right at home in Virginia. I am also thankful for my friends, and indebted to the ones that either took me in, or showed me around their local haunts (including the ones that offered, but I couldn't meet up with). Lastly, I am thankful for the strangers that showed me that good and kindness see no borders.