ghosting through the morning mist
as day warms from grey to gold
my stomach growls
the road answers with a small cafe
I park and walk into a world of steamed up windows

cradling coffee at the counter
I smile at the ragged young hiker beside me
devouring a mountain of hotcakes

he turns
I nod
he smiles, syrup dripping down his bearded chin
fellow travelers
men of the frontier

coffee vapors float into memories
last night
riding Cat Stevens Peace Train
rocketing into starry oblivion
past the moonlit salutes of cacti sentinels

roadtripping
on the loose
free again

all those blue highways
all those maps
all those little country stores
stops to buy soda, root beer please
asking

how far to the hot spring
which way to Bogans’Oasis
is the road over Steens Mountain open yet

standing on worn wooden porches 
enjoying the tickle of icy carbonation
looking out, urged onward into the unknown

wide eyed wonder watching wild horses explode from clouds of purple sage
stunned awe as two golden eagles spiral from heaven locked in primal need

“Jeez! That’s a helluva rattlesnake.”

face dripping with sweat
cresting  the final ridge
exulting, yelling
dropping packs
careening downhill with reckless abandon
plunging into turquoise water blanketed with dancing diamonds
erupting, screaming
in kaleidoscopes of icy rainbows.

the serenity of another wilderness
swallowed in vapors of holy water
a newborn babe 
swaddled in eternity
alone
but far from lost
in the oneness of a desert ocean

as sky slowly slips
from gold
to pink

to gone

the blessings of
so many Shangri-Las

I will not travel these roads again
but they will haunt my heart
when
 once again
Fall calls the vagabond

to a season for adventuring


tio stib

You might also enjoy: A Wilderness Pill; Breaking Trail