Radiator Springs

The Fourth of July holiday is here, marking the halfway point of summer.

Covid be damned, I was going to get out and enjoy the long weekend along Route 66 and the forgotten towns and roadside attractions that you can find.

First up was Radiator Springs, found in between Seligman and Peach Springs, or between nowhere and utter emptiness. I leave my mask hanging from the rearview mirror and step out into the 110 degree weather.

I can hear the tumbleweeds rolling across the prairie, the only sound out here. It feels apocalyptic. Scattered around this junkyard town are relics of this country’s automotive history.

These days it is hard to distinguish between abandonment and quarantined fear. I can feel eyes watching me from behind drawn curtains, but see no one. I kick around the dust, moving slowly in between the remnants of a forgotten era.

Then I see the sign I am looking for.

Because I am not just out here in the middle of nowhere to marvel at rusty vehicle wonders, but to find the Grand Canyon Caverns. It seems to be the safest place to stay, or perhaps a uniquely final resting spot.

If I disappear permanently, no one would know. That kind of isolation is what I believe draws people out here in the first place.

As the hills here have eyes, watching me as continue down the dirt road past Radiator Springs to one of the strangest places I’ve yet to find…..

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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