A hidden gem

Angel Lake, Nevada

Mike tries to get me involved in the planning of our trips. He prints out maps and itineraries, lays them on my desk, and stabs them with a long forefinger. “Look at this. This is where we are going.”

I nod and say, “uh-huh. Okay.”

But some part of me prefers to be surprised, to let each day unfold, unknown.

Perhaps it’s a way of managing my anxiety.

There’s a lot about road tripping that scares the crap out of me.

Steep roads lacking shoulders that can easily catch a trailer’s tire.

The prospect of breakdowns in the wilderness.

Bears of any sort.

Cows.

The way the trailer swings behind the truck with pendulum g-forces.

Giant big-rigs that snarl by at eighty miles an hour, sucking us into their wake and rattling our windows.

Gas station bathroom door handles.

The random behavior of other drivers.

People with quads and guns at the campgrounds.

But it wouldn’t be an adventure if there weren’t an element of risk, of danger and unpleasantness, right?

I’ve come to know and embrace that from our first…