Sic Semper Tyrannis

Further Tales from Great Road Trips I Have Known- Episode IV: A New Hope

I was talking about that first solo road trip out to California a few days ago. And for the life of me, I still can’t pinpoint what exactly it is about getting out into the middle of nowhere that is so attractive to me. It’s no secret I’m a little misanthropic. Relating to people and just being around people is a bit of a chore for me sometimes. So, I guess there is that kind of “vacation from people” element to it. But by the end of a week of running away from my regular life, I begin to miss being around people I know and easy conversation with them.

And I know deep within me there is an aesthetic response to seeing vast amounts of uninhabited creation. I love the idea that there still might be some part of God’s green earth that hasn’t been sullied by people and their wants and needs and shortsightedness and general ugliness. Virgin, untainted land is a fantastic idea. But that’s pretty much what it is- just an idea in my head. For, if you can see it from a road, chances are, you’re not the first and only person to have ever spotted it.

Listen, I’m not a very spiritual guy. Sometimes I wish I were. But I sound like what I’m searching for is a kind of Garden of Eden, Take 2, where it’s just me and God and the natural creation. And I’ll tell you one thing for sure. I wouldn’t go near that damn apple tree.

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There was one point coming back from that trip that I pulled off to the side of a lonely road in New Mexico, nothing but miles and miles of dead, yellow grass and rocks around me. And the thing I love about being that far out is the silence-at least the silence of humanity. There are sounds, but they’re the sounds we tend to ignore as we’re rushing around in the city, in our cars, on our phones, listening to our radios- the sound of the wind and it’s bassy, boomy tones modulating into mid-rangey wisps and the humming sound of bugs and the sound of birds waking up from mid-day summer naps.

And it’s amidst that environment that I pulled out my wine-red Takamine acoustic guitar and a Henry Weinhard’s root beer, sat down and leaned against the car and croaked out a few meager attempts at singing praise choruses to God.

That’s as close to the Garden of Eden as I’m likely to get.

posted by Mike @ 1:22 PM