West to East, by David Laing

                                                                                                                                                               All history people have been going east to west                                                                                                                                            Columbus, Lewis and Clarke, my grandparents.                                                                                                                                 Manifest Destiny was alive and well. Hell, east to west even sounded better, more natural

Now leaving Los Angeles

Barstow                                                                                                                                                           Vegas                                                                                                                                                                              Salt Lake City                                                                                                                                                            

My destination lies so far away it doesn’t even warrant a mile marker yet, but it doesn’t matter because my journey has begun.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                Except for one thing

Traffic                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            Horrible car after car mile after mile traffic                                                                                                                   This never happens in the movies

By the time I’m in constant motion again the sun has disappeared behind a few scraggly mountain peaks turning the desert into a blood red wasteland                                                                                 No civilization to speak of, LA never felt further                                                                                                                Engine don’t fail me now                                                                                                                                                    My imagination runs wild with a flat tire nightmare that concludes with me fighting off a group of bloodthirsty backcountry cannibals                                                                                                                        The daydream is interrupted by flashing neon lights and a 100 foot cowboy beckoning to me                              

Now entering Las Vegas the land of slots and sluts                                                                                                    No penthouses or hundred dollar bill hurricanes though                                                              Those scraggly pit bosses fear my 20 year old mind and all the ways I’d bankrupt their precious casino.

A beacon of light in the middle of nothing, their glow is gone soon enough, giving way to the natural light of the stars                                                                                                                                         Soon I’m the only visible driver. I must be the only living person for miles                                                                         My car slows down and I pull off the side of the road then follow a sign up to a lookout point                               And what a lookout it is. From over a hundred feet above the surface the desert lies still in the darkness. The desert stretches out for miles until a panorama of mountains stops the sand in its tracks.                                                                                                                                                     I think I’ll stay here for the night.

Up at sunrise, back to the road. The world moves pretty quickly at 110 mph                                                        

Now entering Colorado                                                                                                     

 And just like that desert and cacti morph into grass and tall trees and a roaring river, no mountains yet. I thought the Rocky Mountains would be a little rockier than this                                                         

No matter. I’m a bootlegger now running alcohol west to east gliding at top speeds parallel to the Colorado River. My hands grip the wheel powerfully but delicately keeping the car gliding smoothly through hairpin turns and gentle dips                                                                                                     Mountains gradually begin filling my vision. Time to lose ‘em                                                                                  I hammer on the gas and zig zag through the mountain pass and through a collection of tunnels                                Soon enough I’ve lost the mind made federal agents and the majestic mountain passes of the Rockies are a distant memory.                                                                                                                                

I’ve got real problems to worry about now, namely how to find a place to sleep when the entire area east of Denver lacks any kind of vacancies because of a damn rodeo                                                             One last try. All booked up the lady says, no rooms at this hotel for a road weary traveler like myself. She does give me one option though.                                                                                                                    The kindness of people never ceases to amaze

A hearty home cooked meal and I’m back to the road

Wasn’t I just in the mountains?                                                                                                                                   The world stretches out like a never -ending pancake in front of me                                                                                 A sign warns the hitchhikers are escaped cons from a nearby prison

Welcome to Nebraska                                                                                                                                                  If there’s another Civil War direct all participants to this fine state; it’d be a favor for both sides                                        Five painfully boring hours later the wasteland ends. I earned myself a speeding ticket trying to escape but the minions of Nebraska keep all those entrapped in the territory at a mid 70s crawl

But now it is over. The drab and depressing brown landscape yields to a lush, vibrant green                               a shining emerald on earth                                                                                                                                     Who would think Iowa could elicit that reaction?                                                                                             Rolling farmlands pass by at the speed of a fastball, before I know it the sun has set and I find myself alone on the road in one of those rural pockets of the Midwest.

Soon towns, and gas stations, and fast food joints                                                                                                      Chicago 30 miles                                                                                                                                                       Not tonight though, because like the city I never sleep.                                                                                     I drive. I drive and I drive and when the sun breaks the plane of evergreen trees framing my vision I see it

Welcome to Michigan

I pull over, step out, and inhale a deep vacuum sized breath

Tastes like home.