Driving through the Mojave Desert you can feel your lips chap. And, that’s in an air conditioned automobile. We slip along in relative comfort on the Interstate, while just a few feet to our right the crumbled remains of Route 66 tag along for a few miles before veering off out of sight. I think about the people who did this before air conditioning, before roads, before Chapstick. Between us and the ramshackle highway is sand and mounds of small black stones, lava flow from a long-dormant volcano. Every so often these stones are set in patterns on the sand, clearly by human hands.
Upon closer inspection we can read the signs. Graffiti in the desert. There are no large rocks to spray paint your name on, so people arrange stones to leave their mark. Of course, the minute we notice this, pandemonium breaks out in the back seat to go leave a mark of our own. We pass a few more and the noise from the back is unbearable, so we finally pull over, leaving a huge dust plume as we pull onto the gravel shoulder. We aren’t even to a complete stop before the kids are yanking the door handles to scramble out.
We take one look at the spot we’ve chosen and we’re speechless. Mouths drop open. Everyone points. Someone has spelled out “Kelly & Stephen” and a big heart. I am NOT kidding.
“Should we fix the spelling?” Steve said with a crooked smile, observing that the “e” is missing from my name. What are the odds? I once saw a sign on a highway ramp in the middle of the summer that said “ice possible.” I remember laughing to myself that while it may be possible, it wasn’t likely and that maybe the Highway Department had a sense of humor I wasn’t aware of. Now, I see the value in that sign. It’s to remind us that anything is possible. Of all the roads in America, all the miles we’ve traveled, and all the places we could stop to mark our existence, we stop here and it’s already done. Out of respect, we did not change the spelling.
The kids take about 20 minutes to build their names and pose for a picture. It’s over 100 degrees and they’re pretty red faced and sluggish when they get back to the car. Steve and I are cooling out in the shade from the rear hatch of the because someone has already left our names and pledge of love in the sand.
Upon closer inspection we can read the signs. Graffiti in the desert. There are no large rocks to spray paint your name on, so people arrange stones to leave their mark. Of course, the minute we notice this, pandemonium breaks out in the back seat to go leave a mark of our own. We pass a few more and the noise from the back is unbearable, so we finally pull over, leaving a huge dust plume as we pull onto the gravel shoulder. We aren’t even to a complete stop before the kids are yanking the door handles to scramble out.
We take one look at the spot we’ve chosen and we’re speechless. Mouths drop open. Everyone points. Someone has spelled out “Kelly & Stephen” and a big heart. I am NOT kidding.
“Should we fix the spelling?” Steve said with a crooked smile, observing that the “e” is missing from my name. What are the odds? I once saw a sign on a highway ramp in the middle of the summer that said “ice possible.” I remember laughing to myself that while it may be possible, it wasn’t likely and that maybe the Highway Department had a sense of humor I wasn’t aware of. Now, I see the value in that sign. It’s to remind us that anything is possible. Of all the roads in America, all the miles we’ve traveled, and all the places we could stop to mark our existence, we stop here and it’s already done. Out of respect, we did not change the spelling.
The kids take about 20 minutes to build their names and pose for a picture. It’s over 100 degrees and they’re pretty red faced and sluggish when they get back to the car. Steve and I are cooling out in the shade from the rear hatch of the because someone has already left our names and pledge of love in the sand.
3 comments:
Hi to all. I love that you found "your" names already there! Let me know if you saw my name.
While they missed the "e", they got the initial on the last name right...I'm sure you noticed the "s" framed in the right side of the picture. It shows great restraint and respect to leave this spelling as-is. Great restraint, or great exhaustion!
Keep on keepin' on!
I'd like to say we were respectful, but more like wary of climbing up and down the dune in 117 degrees. The kids were pretty parched when they returned to the car. We were cooling out until the rear hatch of the Honda, which when open, is over 6 feet high and measures about 3 x 4 feet, so enough for two adults to hide from the desert sun. Impressive.
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