the dirt path detour

I got my VW Bus back from the mechanic with a new engine requiring a break-in of 500 miles. On Sunday, after dropping off homework to a sick student, I saw a sign for a road I had never taken before. It was a 12 mile 'short-cut' that I thought would bring me to the vicinity of where I needed to be.

The first mile or so on the 618 road from the 260 to Beaver Creek was barren, rocky, littered every few hundred feet with discarded beer cans. There was very little to see, and I considered turning around. My little one had just fallen into a nap a few minutes prior, so I figured - why not?

The next few miles were an opportunity for discovery, and it got better with each hill and horizon. I passed hunting grounds, creeks and caverns, campsites, more dirt paths, RV villages, red rocks carved by ice and creeks, the Coconino forest, ranches, mountains, snow, lush pastures right next to desert scrub.

As I travelled the road, the colors of the dirt changed from a beige to blue and purple, then to the bright red of the surrounding rocks. There were stripes of white, and grey that seemed to create a natural lane divider on a one-lane road. As the road continued and the 5, 6, 7 mile mark passed me by, the terrain evolved and changed along with each passing tree.

I arrived to a familiar spot connecting to a paved road I knew. It was not where I intended to end up, but I knew how to get to where I needed to be. I felt optimistic and revived. My son slept through the entire bumpy ordeal. The dirt and rock roller coaster had been refreshing for me, even a physical metaphor of my path in life right now.

I really don't know where I'm going, or if I made the right turn to come down this road, but for the next few miles, I'll enjoy the ride.