If this was going to happen it would have to be quick – a 60-second affair. Focus. I grabbed my gear and was soon laying in the middle of a road assessing the risk of being squashed by oncoming vehicles while relishing the view ahead.
Engulfed in the thick heat of Kansas’ mid-July sun I recalled Jerry’s 8 a.m. proclamation “it’s gonna be a real hot one today.” He was right. There had been no break from the sun for hours. Even rest stops with names like “Oasis” were devoid of trees and any slivers of shade that did exist from building overhangs were usually taken by awkwardly parked cars yearning for a respite.
But it wasn’t the site of the first decently sized tree I’d seen since leaving Abilene that took my breath away, it was the most gorgeous of open roads.
Flanked by golden wheat on one side and green on the other, this one had to be the Miss America of roads, a paved queen fit to be christened the Aphrodite of asphalt. I had no idea where it was leading, but I knew I wanted to be on it.
Arching slightly towards the sky this asphalt minx beckoned with the promise of adventure and endless possibilities – ‘join with me and new discoveries will be yours.’ That’s the anthem of the open road and my Asphalt Aphrodite sang it beautifully.
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