
It’s my first excursion in my newly acquired camper van. I drive from city freeways to arterial roads to country roads to the vague essence of roads in middle-of-nowhere eastern Oregon.
I remember driving roads like this in my younger years, in a handpainted red Dodge pickup, where I sometimes had to hop out of the cab, raise the hood and shove a rod back in place so I could shift out of neutral. A simpler time, a simpler vehicle.
When oncoming drivers begin raising a hand in casual greeting as they pass, I remember this neighborly act from my small-town upbringing. Though the van and the road are new to me, I recognize this pace, this sense of community and commonality.
On reaching my campsite, I rest easy in the stillness and reminisce about times past when ruts and potholes preceded speed bumps, and when drivers raised more than just one finger to one another in common salutation.
in burlap-rough folds,
hills of scrub and juniper
bask like sun warmed snakes
Road trip was good. Your prose painted a wonderful portrait of remembrance. And the “burlap-rough folds” line, really stands out, again, painting a wonderful picture.
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Thanks! You’ll have to come with next time.
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I remember my first roadtrips on bicycle and how a special community was formed with other people on two weels… that was a special bond.
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I’m learning that solo travelers have their own online communities and organize meet ups all over. A whole new culture for me to explore!
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nice one. A perfect journaling haibun
much love
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thank you.
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I loved this line, “and when drivers raised more than just one finger to one another in common salutation” So very true! I ve been a lifelong cyclist and hiker so the impersonal car culture is rather foreign to me, but I sure see a bunch of angry drivers honking and raising middle fingers to each other all the time….nice to just take it easy and “bask like sun warmed snakes” Excellent write!!🩵
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Thank you. It is refreshing to find places where things move at a slower pace and take a lesser toll on common decency.
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