Outrun the Cold

Autobiographical. First time I’ve tried writing about my travels in earnest.

It takes him hours to pull himself out from the comfort of his sleeping bag. The bitter cold all around him. Wind barely kept at bay by a small foxhole made from rocks and a loud overpass over his head.

Another traveler must have come before him. Writing on the cement tells a story. Symbols decipherable only by wanderers. A wind blocker made of stone waiting for him.

The young man stands in the bitter cold and snow with a cardboard sign, pleading for a ride south to warmer wheres. After sometime he can feel the frost bite nip at his fingers and toes. He must move or die.

So he marches. down a long highway. It’s getting colder. The sun begins to dip below the horizon. Just passed the Rocky Mountains to the west.

He can see a roof in the distance and a digital sign that reads the current price of gas.

The man throws his gear and his sign down behind the building and hunkers. Hours pass and the temperature starts to drop. An abandoned shack just ahead is beginning to look very cozy.

He does something he hasn’t done since he was a child. He clasps his hands together and prays. It’s the Are Father.

Almost before he can finish, an eighteen wheeler pulls around behind the store and parks just ahead of him.

An older man climbs out of his cab and makes a bee line to the weary traveler. “Are you hungry?” He asks.

The traveler nods and tries to flash his best smile, “Yes sir. But what I could really use is a ride south.”

Words are exchanged and they get to know each other. The trucker’s been on the road for years, almost as long as the traveler has. The older man looks to the younger, “I shouldn’t give you a ride... My insurance could bite me in the a*s. But I have a feeling.”

In a day the traveler is a thousand miles to the south and to the west. The two speak during the long drive. The trucker begins his religious speech. Any other time in the young traveler’s life and he would have tuned it out, but this time he listens. It’s almost like his short prayer summoned the ride to him like a supernatural Uber.

They part ways near the four corners. Goodbyes are had as well as good wishes. The traveler will forget this experience for some time.

He meets his new adopted family. They take him in as one of their own even though they share no blood. The Navajo now hold a special place in his heart.

For two weeks he works on their land, eats their fried bread, and sees their ancient ruins. He leaves clad in dream catchers, new warm clothing, gear, and an arrow head. The arrow head brings good luck to travelers. He begins to believe it on the next leg of his trip.

Still heading south to the southern American coast. His first obstacle is a twenty mile death march. After holding a cardboard passport at an on ramp for several days he decides to throw it on his back and walk.

He mutters the Are Father for the second time in years, and a spiritual Uber shows up a second time.

A middle aged balding man stops and allows him into his car. He may have saved a life. Guzzling the water given to him, the traveler trades stories with his ride. The middle aged man had spent time in South Africa. He’s as nomadic as the young man, although in a different way.

They arrive in a town by the name of Truth or Consequences. It acquired its name through a radio contest held decades ago. It’s beautiful and the traveler briefly contemplates staying there for the night.

He strikes up a conversation with a young couple. The next thing he knows he’s three towns further south. And just after that, a family of three picks him up.

They invite him into their home for a meal. He eats more than he has since he left the Navajo Nation.

A week passes by and he’s finally made it home. He’s away from the cold air and people of the north. Lead by some guiding hand.

He drops his gear by his mother and father’s doorway. Finally home in their warm embrace.

Author's Note

Phone posting. Forgive typos and syntax error

Reviews

[Saddi Moix]

I like the way that you described the setting at the beginning of the story. I was easily able to visualize it. The sequence of the story made it easy for me to follow. I connected to your story when you wrote about standing on the ramp with a cardboard sign waiting for a ride. I have seen many people holding signs and I have wondered where they have been and where they are going. I did not know that an arrow head brings good luck to travelers. This is the important information that I will take away from your story. You could improve on the ending by telling more about how it felt to be home.
#lrwp2018