Doors are everywhere
they lead to different places
and different people
The road through life is often uphill, and there are those moments when we all have to lean in and give it everything we’ve got to reach the summit. Witnessing this man climbing the street in Seattle, hands clasped behind his back, taking a low angle, eyes on the ground in front of him. He was making good time. I admired him for his tenacity. He seemed to be using his low center of gravity to his advantage.
This man, hunched over, leaning into the steep incline, hurriedly making his way through the people who seemed oblivious to his presence. At this moment, I felt like I was the only one who noticed him at all. Thinking back, I imagine there had to be someone else whose eye this character caught. He navigated the sign behind him by shouldering it like a tackling dummy, slithering around it like a snake and continuing on, ever moving forward, like a salmon fighting its way upstream.
I’m out on the road, currently in Wyoming.
I-25 through Cheyenne and beyond:
There were a million vehicles heading north at 75 miles per hour. The glass and steel buildings dissipated behind us, a traffic jam ahead and the hot sun beating down. I was forced to drive at 65 just to keep up with the flow of traffic that I was already slowing down. The Vanagon up the hill is a buzz kill. We’re half the cylinders of anyone else and cranking out a whopping 60-90hp, with a heavy emphasis on the low end.
And like I’ve said before, this van loves going 55, at 65 and up she gets all bitchy and hot under the collar. Denver is bursting at the seams, and the interstates through the city are insane. It’s a toxic environment. A lot of road rage and aggravated people, guys on motorcycles battling for position like it was a race, shaking their fists…
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