White Sand

I was supposed to be heading to the apartment to do some homework, but I figured I’d take a small detour. The night felt great, the moon was shining bright, and it was a Saturday night. No way in Hell was I to be kept inside an apartment for the evening. So, I took the El Camino for a spin around Chickasha. It was a good way to clear my thoughts. Blare the radio, and put the pedal to the floor. Everything was looking tame, until I passed the Valero right next to the Fairgrounds. Four cop cars were in the lot, lights flashing, so I slowed up. They were all there because they found not one, but two fellas drunk driving. I snickered at their stupidity, and drove on.

The night felt great. Quiet, calm, peaceful, with nothing but the sound of an American made small block 350 Chevy and the wind whistling through the windows.
I finally reached a stoplight, and decided to take a left to head back to the school. Procrastination is a bitch, I thought. I drove slowly down the narrow two-lane road. A large Ford pick-up was coming down the other lane, but behind him was nobody. So when he passed, I hit my brights. I stopped at a dark, quiet four-way intersection. I sat for a good while, with 12 Stones playing through the radio. It’s intersection like these that are most tempting when you’re cruising around. It’s quiet and peaceful, makes you want to drive even more, but at the same time, I needed to get back to the school, which was a good ways along the road. Finally, I gave in, and turned right.

After a good way down the road, I came across an old dirt road that I had traveled down many times. I turned onto it, stopped, and shut the lights off. As I sat, I thought about the times when I had my Ford pick-up, when I had nothing to do, I would spend hours on the outskirts of El Reno, just cruising down the old dirt roads; thinking, reflecting, just clearing my head.

It’s been too long… I thought.

I shut the radio off, put the car back in drive, and the El Camino began to move forward. The moon was shining brightly, making the gravel shine like white sand. The sound was intense, yet quiet and calm. It was actually therapeutic. The wind was blowing through the weeds that caressed the barbed wire fence that some farmer or ranch hand must’ve put up eons ago. The crickets and grasshoppers were yelling at me, in this large, rumbling, metal animal as if it were a serious threat to their habitat. The gravel crunching underneath the tires was actually very peaceful.

I needed this.

I slowly came across to my intersection, where it was asphalt in every other direction. I took a breath, and decided to head back to the apartment. Moral of my story? Take a cruise every once in awhile. Go to the quietest road you know, and just drive. No radio. It does wonders.

~ by josephshelton on October 26, 2007.