Greenville, SC to Monahans, TX
With every hundred miles, I go back in time another year. It doesn’t even have to be a back road. Something about a highway curving somewhere—ostensibly toward nothing but the horizon—does it.
Way down yonder on the Chattahoochee toward sweet home Alabama, a stroll past Sugarland to make it to Amarillo by morning…just a hill, just a cottonwood tree, and phwoosh! there goes reality. I wonder how long it’ll be gone this time.
The sky is a thousand times bigger in Texas. I don’t think there’s just one sky here; there are skies.
And there are plains, dotted with oak trees, and little towns called Weatherford and Mineral Wells and Big Lake and Alpine. Good coffee in the truck stops. Dusty boots. Cool rain. Loads of memories.
Going back home is so weird.