There has always been something very forlorn and sad in the freight train night low whistle. On road trips, I watch trains moving across empty miles through Utah and Nevada, hauling their cargo long stretches through the night and day. They carry their burden alone and their only complaint is that desolate horn sounding to the void.
Interstate 70 across Kansas is long and boring. It is even more so when you are driving through at night.
Many years ago I drove that stretch east to west and back again a number of times. This was pre-cell phones and when you were alone in the middle of nowhere, you were really alone. If your car broke down, hopefully some kind not-axe-murderer stranger would come along and give you a lift to the closest telephone or gas station/tow truck.
My grandmother was a worrier. She would proclaim so often. “I’m a worrier!” she would say to remind my mom and I, as if we could ever forget.
On those trips east to west and west to east on I-70, I made sure to call my grandma each night when I stopped at a motel-before I got settled in. Even if I got in late, I had to call in.
Otherwise grandma would worry.
This call-in requirement bothered my mom to no end. It annoyed her, it vexed her, it made her frustrated. But still, she did it too.
I loved the call-in requirement. It made me feel less alone on those long, dark stretches knowing that I had a call to make and a voice to connect with at the end of the night. I liked knowing someone out there was concerned about my welfare. Usually, it was just a simple, “Hi grandma! I’m in Alma at a Motel 6. Just got in.”
“Oh, good,” she’s say sleepily in her little grandma voice.
“I was just starting to worry.”
Two years ago my mom and I drove to Phoenix, Az. I was moving – my car was packed full of boxes, my dog and kitty cat. We were driving through New Mexico the evening of July 4. There was a storm ahead of us.
I love desert storms – even at night. The storms can be seen for miles. During the day, you can see sheets of rain off in the distance like curtains. Nighttime storms are equally as interesting. Lightening flashes miles ahead and you know you are heading into
a tempest.
That night as we drove through the darkness, a town miles in front of us was celebrating the 4th of July with fireworks. High above a lightening storm erupted. The once impressive fireworks display looked like kid’s toys in comparison to the vast natural light show. The fireworks continued with the lightening far overhead dwarfing the man-made explosions. It was beautiful and amazing.
no destination 