Road Trippin'

Long drives aren't what they used to be.  I drive slow now.  I take lots of breaks.  I stretch, sigh, moan, and mumble complaints to myself.   A slight drizzle seems to always follow me for hours, too soft for quick windshield wipers and too heavy for that slow speed.  My posture is poor.  I fidget.  I avoid gas stations and restroom toilets, preferring the privacy of bushes while cars whizz by (pun intended, thank you very much).  Gas coast over $4 a gallon.  The passenger seat will surely be covered in garbage and spilled coffee.  A headache will likely ensue and there's a solid chance I'll greet a CHP officer or tow truck driver at some point.  

While driving back to Nevada City yesterday evening, I attempted to rekindle my road trippin' spontaneous spirit.  I pulled over by a flooded pond outside of Willits.  I get out, stretch, breath in the cold fresh air, and snap a few pictures with my cell phone.  I look around for something spontaneous to explore.  Nothing.  I could skip stones.  I could take more pictures.  Or not.  It's cold and windy.  I should be driving.  I'm wasting time.  I'm getting old.