Roadtrip (a Poem by Cathy Gruman)

We left Durock on a winter morning, when the sun was making its way over the hill.
Highway 395, headed to Westwood, Lassen County in Northern Cal.
With munchies, props and radio -
Dave Mason, Jethro Tull, and Allman Brothers on cassette.
Passing small towns and pastures,
the city disappeared behind us.
Eight hundred miles and twelve hours later
we slid into wonder winterland.
Windows foggy, white sky,
snowy trees
standing by.
The bug skated along the icy road, gliding side to side.
Our instincts showed some fright,
but we had laughter on our side.

Homeward bound on the Interstate 5,
tumbleweeds rolling frantically by.
One after another, like creatures in a sci fi movie with big boufant hairdos blowing in the wind.
Coming down the hill we saw the chocolate sky.
Landing flat, entering the city, we breezed through the traffic lights,
and the merchants lined the way.
Focused now on getting home, we counted down the minutes.
As we rounded Opal Canyon curve while it was still light,
we wondered what we’d do tonight.