As the miles ticked off, the heaviness of life’s stresses grew lighter. The further I drove the lighter I felt. Soon I was helium balloon floating down Highway 166. Passing ranches and tiny towns, blips on the map I heard poetry in their names, Cuyama and New Cuyama. I stopped in at the Buckhorn Restaurant for some old time cowboy hospitality. The inside was like stepping onto a western movie set. I could have been taping an episode of Westworld, minus the androids of course.
A full belly later I was cruising closer to my destination: Carrizo Plain. I turned onto Soda Lake Road and immediately felt a different energy. The energy from the quiet of being alone.
And the inspiration began.