Note: MK hasn’t given me many pictures recently and I haven’t fully processed the Grand Tetons, Yellowstone, Utah, the Grand Canyon, or New Mexico. So, here’s something about today and yesterday. I promise to supply the cool pictures in a few more updates before our trip ends on Sunday evening.
We discovered a new community last night. It’s the tribe of traveling campers and old hippy vans who spend their nights parked in the far-off side of Wal-Mart parking lots, and we joined them.
They don’t talk to each other or really communicate in any form. But there’s a strong vibe of camaraderie on edge of Wal-Mart parking lots, which can’t be detected until one is exhausted and has seen an overabundance of “NO OVERNIGHT PARKING” signs.
This morning, we found a bustling corner café in a dusty little southwestern-flavored Colorado town so I could charge my computer before we trekked across the Oklahoma panhandle.
(Frankly, I truly planned to get work done on the road, but I got distracted looking for black, pointed-toe kitten heel pumps online. Then I spent a good deal of time aggravated that Prada is the only brand who seems to make exactly what I’m looking for. Mama says I have expensive tastes but I’ll point out—the next time I see her—that it could be so much worse. #newproof)
I digress. Back to the café. There was a book shelf stuffed with old used books for $2 each so I picked out a 1963 edition of “Anthropology: Culture Patterns and Processes” by Kroeber and a thoughtful critique of the school system under the guise of a teacher’s memoir.
A local named Trish interrupted my book browsing asked if I lived around there—I think she saw my unshowered self and was proactively ensuring that I wouldn’t be a neighbor. We shook hands, I caused her to spill coffee over herself and the floor, and we bonded while blotting up the puddles with stacks of napkins.
She left and I finished selecting my books, coffee, and a pound of organic solar power roasted Peruvian beans to take home.
After I situated my work at a huge, ancient wood table in the back corner, a couple dudes wearing black shades, crazy hair, and skinny jeans sauntered in. One ordered coffee and one picked out a really nice blues tune on the wood carved piano over by the books.
They went outside to smoke but later the piano playing guy walked back through and I miiiiiight have mentioned that I enjoyed his music, and he miiiiiiiiight have said something like, “Cool. Well, I’ll play a bit more.”
That’s how I was treated to my own little concert of classic rock hits while I worked at the old library table in the back corner. It was lovely.
The most important part of this post—and the only reason for tolerating all this rambling—are pictures of the dunes in the Sand Dune National Park (the fourth or fifth place at which we smugly flashed our National Parks card).
I have a thing for moody evenings, mountains, storms, and my sisters. All these things in one place…at the same time. Ah, happiness.
Catch you guys soon!