Out of Arizona

I started out the morning by calling Flagstaff Athletic Club once more to see if my hoodie showed up. And surprisingly, it was there! So I headed over to pick it up before getting on the road toward Albuquerque.

In Navaho Country, I stopped to get gas and was approached by a woman named "Cheyenne"; a name she said she got in prison. She had crooked teeth and smelled of alcohol and was asking me for some money for McDonald's. I told her not to eat that crap, but that I'd give her an apple. This touched her and inspired her to come close to me, grab my arm and with eyes full of tears, tell me I should call my mother and that I should apologize to my brother because I was in the wrong. I had a feeling she would have loved to stand and chat at the gas pump for hours, but I extracted myself and drove off.

A few more miles down the road, I saw a sign and decided we had enough time to investigate what I thought sounded like an interesting state park. It was not.


We didn't stay there long.

We got back on the road and on the way to Albuquerque were swallowed by some zero-visibility dust storms and pelted relentlessly by high velocity tumbleweeds.

My sinuses are totally dried out.

Comments

Anonymous said…
What? Your video made me sad for Arizona that what you showed was one of its State Parks. I wonder if that is one of those things like "$10,000 hammers" and the money for it is really being diverted to something else. Perfect music for it.

I am wondering about the woman's comments . . . was she remotely correct?
May 14, 2014 at 2:32 PM
Jason Alan Griffin said…
She asked me why I don't call my mother. So, I guess she was accurate on that one, but she seemed taken aback by my answer, "she's dead".

And I did have a fight with my brother, but we've already made up.
May 14, 2014 at 6:07 PM
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