I’d like to ride to Eastern California on a motorcycle.
I’d like to camp on the hills separating the Death Valley from the Owens Valley.
I’d like to wake before dawn and see the Sierras before eastern light touches the top of Mt. Whitney.
I’d like to see the pre-dawn blue in May promising perfect weather from where I lay to wherever I roam westward.
And it would have to be westward. It would have to be to the mountains and over the mountains.
It would have to be closer to the Central Valley. It would have to be closer to the Pacific.
Most importantly, it would have to be slow and deliberate and giving me time to take it all in with a heart overflowing with gratitude just to be alive!
Thank you Walt Whitman. Thank you for your Song of the Open Road. Even if I never go, I was just there.
But, unless God says otherwise, you bet I’m going.