“It ain’t about what you’re driving or about the gold you’re piling. The less I have to worry about the more time I got for smiling.” –Trailer Hitch by Kristian Bush
If you’re following along and connecting dots, you’ll notice we skipped over Denver, CO. There’s some points that flow in the same conversation (though not chronologically). Before visiting friends in Vegas, we stopped in Colorado to visit friends. Denver is a turning point on the road geographically – the Rocky Mountains suddenly appear and the landscape continues to look familiar as the America you see in the movies.
The anticipation of being on the road meets the realization that you are, in fact, on the road. Utah is a desert full of incredible structures of layered rock molded over centuries more massive than any man made architecture. The environment surrounding you changes and keeps you feeling so small in the context of its enormity. Then, like a mirage, the glitz and twinkling lights of Las Vegas appear in the middle of the sand. You drive away from the mirage having either indulged in temptation or taking pride in restraint and then there it is: California.
Along this road we had to be adaptable. Sometimes that meant a makeshift office in a hotel in a forgotten town along historic Route 66 and sometimes making lighting equipment out of things found in a luxury resort hotel like a posh MacGyver. Whatever the adaptation, it’s what makes the road an adventure and what makes memories worth remembering. Some choose to sit still and focus on what they don’t have instead of making the best of what they have and forge on. Choosing to move in any direction from where you are puts you on a path. The epiphany, logical conclusion and hard truth is that what defines the surface beneath you a road or a floor is dependent upon your decision to move or stay still. The road is just a floor you’ve chosen to walk on instead of standing still.
Now listening: “Trailer Hitch” by Kristian Bush