My camera just got back from Nikon the other day and it has a 90 day on the repair and I needed to get it out and use the hell out of it with all my lenses.
With a full tank of gas I headed out to a local quarry. I was pretty sure I had been there and when I pulled up I was sure of it. I kept driving until I found something I liked. The road kept going and going and I decided to always go left and see where I end up. Lost was where I was going to end up, but with that tank of gas and old 70’s music on my radio, I didn’t care where I ended up.
The first thing I found was a tiny street that lead to an airport in the middle of nowhere. The thing that caught my attention was a Hiking Trail sign that clearly wasn’t a hiking trail. It was covered with blackberry bushes. I got out the macro lens and I snapped off a few shots before I grabbed a ripe berry off the prickly vine and popped it in my mouth. For the next 20 minutes I was 7 years old again, picking the berries from the vine and putting them in a bag I found in my trunk. The thing I was most amazed with was the silence.
I looked up and thanked God for getting me out of the house and reminding me that there is a whole world out there.
The kept stopping along side of the road and snapping pictures. I picked streets that I liked the name of and would drive until it ended or spit me out somewhere new. At mile 77 I pulled off the road and walked into the cemetery. That’s where I found this bush with the flowers at different stages of life. The fact that it was falling apart and it wasn’t what it once was, is what I loved most about it.
There was something beautiful about where I was. I turned around to tell the person I was with to come look at this headstone I had found and remembered I was out there alone.
Getting back in the car I kept the navigation the same way as before. No turning back and just turn when I see something I liked. It brought me to this rusted out old truck. I snapped a few shots and pulled over to stare at a building. That is when a guy pulled up next to me. The volume of forensic file shows I have watched has made me leery of strange men in one horse towns.
“How you doing young lady?”
I smiled and was grateful I had on big glasses when I lied, “Fan-freaking-tastic! How are you?” He said he was due for a raise, complained about our government and asked me where I was from. He said he too was from Sacramento years ago and decided to get out of the race and just come out here and avoid getting eaten by bears. The whole time he was talking I was wondering if he already had a hole dug in the backyard for my waiting body.
“What’s the speed limit up here?”
He got all serious and asked me, “How fast do you wanna be going when a deer steps out in front of your little car?” I didn’t think he could get more serious when he said, “After the deer dies, the bears come out. Watch out for bears, they don’t move out the way. They will eat you.”
I thanked him for the advice and he repeated, “The deer determine the speed limit, remember that.”
He said, “I’ll see you on the flip side!” and turned up his Grateful Dead music and was off.
The road headed me out to this town called Volcanoville. How can you pass that up? This road had to lead to something cool. It did not. I also found another road that lead me to a prison. I turned around, but on the way back I found a cool lake.
On the way home I stopped to get a picture of the sun going down through a big oak tree. I needed that road trip.