Take 50

The cottonwoods throw their cotton, so their tarrying won't be forgotten, where water runs hidden, they declare, that they were bidden...

She was supposed to be here, where my elbow turns, heading down 395, the list we had of dreams said so, but my elbow's empty, loss upon...

Bags. Check Coffee. Check. The Who's Baba O'Reilly on 10? You're Effen right it is.

My trusty steed Rosinante is gassed and ready to go again, as am I! There be windmills to photograph and adventures ahead. This time it's...

That's right: this whole loop "loops" back to the other element of my road trips: finding suitable resting spots for my significant...