We’ve been talking for some time, my mate and I, about taking off and going someplace....a road trip through the Southwest, perhaps, or even a drive across America. A lyric to one of Paul Simon’s songs says: “Everybody hears the sound of the train in the distance,” and that sound has been calling to us, teasing us, tempting us to travel, to see and experience something different or new.
We had us a bad case of wanderlust, but, unfortunately, not much vacation time available. Plus gas is so damn expensive -- and even if we had all the money in the world to spend on fuel, neither Leah nor I felt right about putting a ton of polluting car emissions into the air by making a long roadtrip simply because we had ants in our pants.
We came up with a travel compromise, of sorts, and decided to drive to neighboring Oregon, to a part of that state we’d never really explored. Friends told us about a secluded valley that sounded appealing. There were wineries we could visit. I suspected we’d see beautiful fall color.
We hired a friend to come and take care of our home and critters, and last week Leah and I headed south.
We were only away for four days, but we filled them to the brim. I had a chance to go for a run in Eugene, “Tracktown USA.” We took in a play in Ashland. And yes, we drank a glass or two of Oregon wine. As is my habit, I took photographs of our travels, and today I’ll share three images that reflect a bit of what we saw.
Our trip might not have been the epic journey we once envisioned, but I guess it was enough because we are both happy to be home, and today neither of us is hearing the sound of a train in the distance.
