The old highway must've been awe inspiring. And the heat! With the threat of the radiator boiling over, let alone a failed water pump!
The old route is much prettier than the freeway, but it would've taken some real motivation to drive it. Now it's the occasional youngster on their "organ donor" sport bike and the just-as-occasional olde dood on his Harley trying to recreate those days of yore. And no flyover!
Nice breeze...sunshine. Now, all that's needed are a few willing females; or ONE even.
My dreams have been vivid vignettes of ambles in idyllic nature or cross-campus errands from my days as ombudsman in the College of Eduation at the University of New Mexico.
When I saw my former boss at The Frontier Restaurant, she said they'd had to hire two people to replace me. Of Italian descent, her parents had immigrated to Gallup to mine coal. She appreciated entreprenuership and let me run my businesses (note plural) from my office on the second floor.
