the Zen of Arrival

...was our first assignment: The Road to Crestone, County T, passed the info booth, which of course I breezed by, hoping to see a UFO welcome wagon. The road to enlightenment degraded, literally, from asphalt to gravel, dusty hardpan washboard. By then I'd turned off the Andrea Bocelli and determined to bask in silence. After a mile or so, I began hoping the sacred road grader would make an appearance. The road narrowed; I was sure it was a metaphor.