I’m determined to honor my pledge to write 15 minutes a day, so here I sit at Hermits Rest lodge next to a sweet smelling fire. I hope to get outside and write about what I see but at the moment my bright passenger is perusing the dreamcatchers to the soundtrack of faux native-american flute muzak.
Okay, now I’m outside having a picnic lunch on what feels like the edge of the earth. We are surrounded by several bristle-cone pine as well as some bushes which shelter us from a too-cold wind, so I strip down to my skivvies,…. I mean, I take my jacket off. I’ve made myself a Cuban-ish sandwich on a bagel and the travelmate doesn’t seem to like, well fine, more for me then. I’m trying to figure how God carved this Grand Canyon with a tomahawk 30 millon years ago when everyone knows he created the earth about 6000 years ago. He can add Master Time Bender to his already impressive resume.
I’m back. Waiting for phone service to post this.
On the road, riding shotgun and fearing for my life. Someone please tell my wife I loved her and let her know what my horns are worth. Thanks