Bryce Canyon in Winter.
Covid taught me sit still. Which is pretty darn hard to do! When you're plagued with nervous energy as I am. My Grandma used to call it The Wiggies. Just gotta move. Can't sit still. She understood because she was the same way. That's why I was a perpetual traveler. Until Covid demanded I sit still.
Then Delta Airlines clinched the deal by showing me just how absolutely horrible airline travel has become, post-pandemic.
These days we much prefer road trips.
Queen's Garden in Bryce.
Oh my gods it was cold there!
All I did was give your Mother a nudge out the door. < That's what I assumed Lou might tell my daughter when they filed the Missing Persons report.
Laughing about that when Charlie & I were the only two slip-sliding down the icy Navajo Trail. Bryce was the first detour on our impromptu road trip - to warmer temperatures.
Coffee and donuts are quite popular in Kanab, Utah.
I could live here forever.
It all started when Lou, who lives in sunny San Diego, called me up, mentioning that he was desperate to do some skiing. [I live in a ski resort.]
I was desperate to get as far out of the snow as we could drive. After one brief phone call it was all settled! He could be my house sitter and we could take a road trip to Bisbee, Arizona.
We always stay in the wonderful Cameron Lodge, Navajo Nation, on the outskirts of Marble Canyon.
I've traveled this road so many times. For most folks, it's a one-day drive to Phoenix where you are pretty much guaranteed warm weather. [Though most folks never take the backroads.]
And I always do it alone. Perhaps that's because I'm 1) anti-social, 2) prone to detours, 3) willing to stop every 5 minutes to take a picture. #1 - definitely not. Yes, to #2 and #3.
But it's much simpler than that. I just don't like people bitching at me. 'Normal' people would be pacing around that silly coffee shop, in Kanab, nervously checking the time on their phone. "We’re behind schedule! It will be dark soon!" < You’re an adult. Why are you afraid of the dark?
Charlie Waffles desperately needs a bath.
These days, I prefer to travel with the one guy who never complains. Who greatly appreciates 3 detours in one long day. And is perfectly happy with whatever crazy notion pops into my head.
You won't see a sign directing you to this overlook.
But if you drive 75.6 miles from the donut shop, you'll see the turnoff.
Cuddled up in our hotel room, in the middle of nowhere, listening to the microwave spin and hum, cooking one of our emergency meals (that I always pack, because I'm not a complete dummy,) I smiled. Thinking about Janet. And her spaghetti alfredo, in Croatia. She brought that pre-packaged meal with her from Park City. It traveled across Italy. And France. Waiting patiently in her suitcase. Just in case we encountered a situation when it would come in handy. And it did.
That’s probably why we're such great friends. Sometimes I feel as if we’re the last two people on the planet (that I know) who appreciate these wild lands. And enjoy the magic so easily discovered, when you embrace those 'inconvenient' detours.
