Journeys

I've traveled several roads that I'd like to revisit—not to get from Point A to Point B, but simply to experience the territory again. Bikers say, "It's not about the destination; it's about the journey." This saying is made for these roads—whether you're traveling via bike or cage (biker-speak for "car").

First among them: The Beartooth Highway that connects Red Lodge, Montana, with Silver Gate at the north east entrance to Yellowstone Park. Leaving Red Lodge, the road climbs by spectacular switchbacks right up the side of the Beartooth Mountains. The drive is not for faint-of-heart flat-landers. Once on top, you skim over highland meadows past icy lakes and wild ski areas. On every side the tops of mountain peaks spread to the horizon—a veritable sea of mountains. I've cross country skied on top there in June; much of the year the road's snowed closed.

Second is Texas Highway 170 that runs along the Rio Grande from Presidio south east to Terlingua and thence to Big Bend National Park. This road features magnificent views of the river and Mexico beyond as it curves and dips along the bank. The engineers decided not to build bridges on this road, so the pavement dives down into the arroyos that drain the desert into the Rio Grande, and then shoots back up the other side—a roller coaster the way God meant them to be. As a bonus, it takes you to Big Bend, easily the most beautiful spot in Texas, wild, rugged, and ferocious. I've traveled this road three times—once in a cage, once solo on my bike, and once through a full day of rain with Amy on the bike's passenger seat. I'd do it again in a minute. We could do without the rain.

Third is the road I traveled for the second time a week ago—US 60 from Show Low, Arizona, to Globe and on to Florence Junction. Descending the White Mountains, this road passes through the Fort Apache Reservation and Salt River Canyon. The pictures at the top of this post are from the south western end of this road, the desert portion. This stretch of US 60 combines the alpine aspects of the Beartooth with the desert features of TX 170, and even throws in the Salt River as an extra. The road's theme is variety. Since I was driving the road Sunday, it seemed only right to listen to Beethovin's 9th Symphony. What an unbelievable merging of music and spectacle! Beethovin seemed in synch with the road as his music swelled and then whispered and the scenery shifted from majestic mountains to desert stretches and back again to mountains. And as the mountains began to give way to the desert and the heat escalated, and the rest of Arizona and beyond that Loma Linda lay ahead, the Ode to Joy broke forth.

May the music and song be prophetic of the days to come—another journey. The destination's important, but I need to remember to absorb the journey along the way.

Seems to me a lot of people I know are so intent on life's destination that they fail to value the journey. "It ain't the destination," sez the Biker, "It's the journey that counts."