So, the first day of vacation, 2018. We are in the truck, a tan Ford F150, 2010 model with a windshield cracked and pocked in multiple spots, one round splotch just in my range of vision. We are headed from Kingsville, in South Texas, to Fort Collins, Colorado to visit our daughter Cameron.  We decided to go through Taos, New Mexico on our way north and to camp at Cimarron State Park.  My mother was born in the Cimarron region in 1930, and we hope to see the area, to enjoy the mountains and camping out, and to scout out locations for spreading Mom and Dad’s ashes, when the time comes. We were listening to the NPR morning report when we heard about fires at Cimarron. So, we may need to rethink our route.

Anyway, I have been taking road trips for about 67 years now—basically since I was born and my parents started relocating and vacationing-- and decided to try my hand at writing a travel narrative.  I have been studying American Travel Writing from an academic perspective, and have decided that it is time I give it a try.  While I have been to some really spectacular places, Paris, Rome, Jamaica, most of my travel, like this trip, is across the country to visit family, children, parents, siblings.  And most of my travel, as today’s journey exemplifies, takes place not on the Blue Highways William Least Heat Moon made famous, but on the main highways and freeways in order to make time, to get to a destination as quickly and efficiently as possible. That means that many of the stops are at gas stations to fuel up, visit the bathroom, get snacks, or at franchise food chains like McDonald’s.