It's why they always paint Him that way

You know all those paintings of Jesus, where the sky is pierced by beams of light which shower down upon him? We saw that yesterday, somewhere between Winslow, AZ and Santa Rosa, NM (which is where we stopped for the night). Not being a photographer, and not having brought a camera, I couldn't get that picture. So these will have to do (taken by my trusty Sanyo Katana DLX):



We had been watching rainclouds developing in the distance for quite some time. As the distance to them got shorter, we were fairly convinced that we were headed into a storm. Instead: a clear double rainbow that we could see from end to end.

Maybe 200 drops on the windshield. It was so clear that we watched it move across the landscape -- the individual shrubs and the grass -- as we drew nearer.
Then at once we passed under it, and it was gone.

Can't you just see the light of glory?
"The rocks and stones themselves would start to sing."

Takin' it easy

"Standin' On The Corner Park", a Route 66 Roadside Attraction.

No idea? It's as in "Well, I've been standin' on a corner in..."

Kingman, AZ 8:11 pm

It's the day's end at the Days Inn. (How many times have they heard that one?) The goal was to get out of California, and 583 miles or so later, here we are.


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Didn't take the route Google suggested, or the one AAA highlighted on the three maps, but we made it. It takes three maps to get out of California, and one to get from Arizona to North Carolina.

Easy drive today, though Austin is completely disoriented. And bored. It's really sad that a 55 lb. red haired sweetie dog is more bored than his graduate-degreed human companions. Of course, we're able to see the blistering expanses of rock, dirt, and cactus, which I suppose makes it more interesting. It was 104 when we stopped for gas ($5.79/gal. in nowhere CA), but only 94 when we stopped again ($3.95/gal. in nowhere AZ).

Passable pizza, tastily overdressed Caesars, and Sierra Nevada in the room, and we're headed to sleep. After I work on the newsletter, of course, with the raison d'trip lying on the floor.

970 Hwy 17 SJ2SC

First day of driving Shannon's dog, Austin, to North Carolina, 7:50 a.m.

I'm on an express bus of the local transit authority (VTA). The number's 970, but none of the signs say that. They all say Hwy 17, which is the only through road from San Jose and the rest of the Bay Area to Santa Cruz and the rest of the northern South Bay. (California has another South Bay, but it's in Southern California near Los Angeles and might properly be called the southern South Bay.) Hwy 17 is known for being crowded or closed: it's two lanes each way of winding mountainous road, speed limit 45-55, real speed 15 or 75. What happens is people drive 75, crash, and then everyone else drives 15. And once there's an accident, forward motion ceases. Done. Might as well pull out your nearly pristine copy of War and Peace.

The bus, however, rocks hard. Cupholders. Comfy seats. Luggage racks. Clean. And get this: Wi-fi. Free. So the first leg of the journey -- San Jose to Santa Cruz -- is a breezy hour of blogging and getting work done. The next five days, driving I-40 with Heather and Austin in August. The company will be great; we'll see about the rest. I hear Heather has the ends of the flu. I have an ongoing ear infection and cough. Austin snores. Raise the roof.

But I have mapped all the Starbucks, Peets, and local dives along the I-40. Can you say "road trip?" I can. Happily.