Littourati
Literature often describes places we are curious about, regardless of whether we know them or not. This blog maps the journeys laid out in selected books and offers reflections corresponding to the various stops. Happy traveling!
Literature often describes places we are curious about, regardless of whether we know them or not. This blog maps the journeys laid out in selected books and offers reflections corresponding to the various stops. Happy traveling!
2 Comments:
When I took my first bus ride from Denver to Frisco in 1983, the bus went along route 40 in Colorado, which ran parallel to interstate 80 in Wyoming to its north.
So I never got to cross the divide in Creston, but I distinctly remember passing through Steamboat Springs (which was beautiful in the summertime, the slopes all decked and ringed with wildflowers) and then Craig, Colorado.
In Craig, the bus made a pit stop at a McDonalds and I remember hitting it off with a beautiful, blonde-haired country girl who was working behind the counter. She came out and sat with me on her break while I ate my breakfast. She plied me with questions about where I was from and where I was headed. We had an instant connection... a positive chemistry. Within a couple minutes we felt like we had been friends our whole lives. All too soon, the bus driver gave the five minute call to board and I made the split decision not to stay with her, and instead got back on the bus for California. I often think what would my life had been like had I decided to stay. Would we have made it work? Would we have gotten married and had kids? Or perhaps travelled the country together in young wanderlust?
I'll never forget that sad, longing, take-me-away-with-you-from-here smalltown look in her eyes. She haunts me to this day when I think about her and what could have been.
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