Red Earth, Blue Sky, White Clouds

Fisher Towers
Originally uploaded by wadetibb.

It's been several days and many miles on the trip.
So far I have:
Played an open mic in Boulder and met some really cool people who covered Woody Guthrie and Bob Dylan tunes...and offered to throw a concert in their California town if I make it through. I might be taking them up on the offer!

Saw a wonderful film in Denver that was directed by Sean Penn, called "Into the Wild" . It is based on the true life story of Chris McCandless, a young man who abandons his priveledged life to seek out his own authentic path in the wilds of Alaska. It is quite a tragic story, but very beautiful as well.

Camped at the White River National Forest in a snowstorm, while a snarling wild animal outside was wreaking havoc on my Toyota!

Now I am in Moab, UT about to walk into Arches National Park . I might be here for a couple days, and then move on to the Grand Canyon. We'll see.

I am so happy right now, surrounded by red earth, blue skies, and white clouds.

Embarking on a Journey

I was pulling out Lamoni, IA, after dropping my 9 year old son off at school, when I decided that my trip West this next month was to be on highways, not interstates. I felt my ancestors smile on me the moment I pulled back from the on-ramp and followed Hwy. 169 south. Evidence of this ancestral approval came to me in the form of a"Mayflower" emblem on the back of a slow moving semi trailer. For the first few miles I sat in my Toyota staring at this symbol. Pilgrims and pioneers are littered amidst the branches of my family tree. The most notable character being William Bradford, governor of Plymouth colony and overseer of the Mayflower voyage.
"Take a deep breath and slow down before you begin," I said to myself.
This was not meant to be a Colorado trip...but a slow entrance into myself again.

I traveled the first day across the Northwest tip of Missouri, the path I meant to take on foot 6 years ago, but failed gloriously (a story I won't go into right now, but inspired the song "Her" on my Bowl of Stars CD).
I headed West across Kansas, meandering through small towns and buzzed into increasingly unoccupied fields and vast open plains.
For years, I have studied this region on the U.S. Map, intrigued by the names of the towns and rivers. Names like Bird City, St. Francis, Alma (my grandfather's name), Wolf Creek, all brought about a certain indescribable calling in me like a train whistle at night, or a drum being steadily beat around a fire. This interest was first sparked by my grandma's stories of growing up in Wray, CO during the Dust Bowl era. She also shared with me the accounts of her father going across the dusty plains on a covered wagon, digging wells in the Colorado soil.
I drove throught these towns smiling at the irony of such names given to such ordinary and uninspiring towns. I questioned my own interpretations of the names, and my interpretations of the communities. I was the outsider, and could not understand the nuances of these places unless I stay put for awhile. I moved on into an immense western sunset.

So, now, here I sit on the second day of my trip in Wray, CO searching for any remnants of my heritage in this Colorado town. I remain open on this slow journey and the train lumbers through town...about to the head further west, into the Rockies.