The Back Haul

“We picked out a new stretch to look at this time, the view won’t be just the same old thing

for the back haul to the house.”

Truck-stop food leaves a lot to be desired on most days … A just released ex-con for a cook, throwing three day old bread on a dirty grill … Mmmmmm, yummy.  Life on the road, would not have it any other way.  This is a prime reason we often pull into the first handy wide spot we discover around lunch time and fix our own grub.  It might not be a whole lot, but the wife, she takes ordinary stuff and makes it “especially nice and appealing” and that is better than truck-stop fare on most any day.

Sitting here, nursing a cool sodie water out of the ice chest, watching the emergency service tire guy change a flat out on a Peterbilt in front of us.  Strange, it is always the “inside dual” that needs the attention.  I wonder what it is that dictates this condition of the road?

The summer heat is coming sooner than I remember it in this neck of the woods, the asphalt is heating up making sticky little pools of black goo, and the tires of the heavy trucks are making the ruts a little more difficult on some stretches of the road.

Our windshield is littered with the carcasses of butterflies, every color of the rainbow.  I wonder what it is that they are surviving on, the grass in the fields is already turning a yellow shade of color and dying off.  Farmers are out in the field bringing in the winter wheat crop and working late at night, cutting by the light of their headlamps, to get it in before the summer thunderstorms.

Such are the rhythms of life on the Texas plains I suppose.

Most of the sand from the beach has been swept out and vacuumed up, filling the nearest trash barrel for our garbage, it is once again time to hit the road.  Having sufficiently spoiled the grandchildren and blown out the candles on the cake, it is now time to point the old girl north, give her a little room to breathe and let her run.

We picked out a new stretch to look at this time, the view won’t be just the same old thing for the back haul to the house.  In a little while, we will be among familiar things, and our Road Trip will have ended.

We will back the old hoopie into the shop and leave it there until the next grand adventure possibly this fall.

I can hardly wait ….