A Good Ride
Tales from the Road: I was headed west, hopefully California.
There I was in my rubber-soled hiking boots shuffling backwards, on the safe side of the gravel-lined breakdown lane, facing the steady traffic of Hwy. 62. In my left hand was a cardboard sign that read, “Truth” with an olive branch drawn beneath the greeting. The thumb of my right hand pointed toward the western horizon serrated with scotch pine tree…
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