You might remember, if you’ve been reading me along, that I love road trips. A group of cycling friends is coming to this year’s Wildflower bike ride in the San Luis Obispo area. Last year I did that ride with a friend on a tandem. We drove from San Diego to Creston in his RV. It was a great trip.
However, this year I decided to take a leap, be brave, and
do the road trip from Tucson to Paso Robles all by myself. Yes, the whole 700+
miles (one way), just me.
It took me a couple of weekends to gather the
courage—planning routes, booking hotels, calculating driving times and hours,
and figuring out how to do it without taking the whole week off work.
First stop: Twentynine Palms, CA
It was such an amazing drive. I was not expecting it to be
so incredibly beautiful, humbling, and so relatable. The desert landscapes made
me think about resilience, strength, adaptability—a different kind of beauty.
One that doesn’t care what others say. Something I still remind myself every
day.
What you see is what you get. This is it. I’m strong,
resilient, and I’ve learned to appreciate my qualities and strengths, and also
my opportunities. Maybe that’s why I relate so much to the desert. It doesn’t
have the lushness of the forest or the blue of the ocean, but it has the
magnificence of its vastness, the strength to face the elements, and the
stillness of its beauty.
I don’t usually play music when I run or drive, but this was
a long drive, so I picked a playlist I always listen to—or so I thought. It
turned out to be a playlist of similar artists to my original selection. I left
it on because I didn’t want to pull over and change it.
That random playlist played for a long time. And at some
point, I started thinking about a long-lost love. For some strange reason, I
started speaking out loud, talking to him, telling him how things have changed,
how I have changed, and how I would love to get to know each other again
because I’m sure he’s changed too. It was a whole conversation.
And then this random song came on. A song saying almost
exactly what I was saying, but in a more poetic way, of course. My heart sank.
I couldn’t believe it. I started crying—very happy tears. I was asking, and I
got an answer. I felt it in my heart.
It hit me so hard that when I arrived at my hotel in
Twentynine Palms, after I settled in, I started writing. I wrote down what
happened and how I got my answer in a song. It was so unexpected but comforting
at the same time. I sent my words and thoughts to my brother as an idea for a
song. He’s a very talented songwriter, so I thought he would appreciate the
inspiration.
The next day
I went to Joshua Tree National Park. It was so beautiful. I
did an easy hike and took more videos and pictures than I care to admit. I
wanted to share everything—every bush, every tree, every rock. It was a lovely
experience.
After a day in nature, admiring the vastness of the desert,
the massive rocks, and the incredible scenery, I went back to my hotel. Later
that evening, almost exactly 24 hours later, my brother sent me a song he
wrote. It is the most beautiful song. It’s called Open Roads, and it
captures my exact experience that day. I’ve been listening to it nonstop.
Second stop: Paso Robles, CA
My road trip continues. I drove to Paso Robles, close to the
cycling event where I’ll see all my friends this weekend. I am so proud of
myself for doing this road trip. So far, it’s been awesome—beautiful roads, the
feeling of owning my own path, being capable of doing the things I want to do,
and even a beautiful song to top it off.
I am so grateful.
In a few days I’ll be heading back home… or maybe I’ll keep
driving north. I don’t know yet. I’ll go wherever I hear my name calling.
So, do the thing. Make that phone call. Send that message.
Give that hug. Be brave. Say the words out loud.
Somebody might be listening.
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