There are only a handful of things that I’m looking forward to from this trip. I’d like to see the Grand Canyon from a helicopter. I’d like to throw a silver dollar into the Pacific Ocean. I’m hoping that I’ll find a cool diner somewhere on the side of a highway where they make giant milkshakes with cookie crumbs in the bottom.

I’d like to see some sunrises and sunsets, and I want to take a breath of ice cold air that is clean and free of whatever it is that troubles city air.

And I’m hoping that the distance from this house will make the dreams I’ve been having stop.

It’s a Winnebago. It’s 27’ long and it’s set up like a studio apartment inside. It has enough space for my books, some clothes. I have a camera and a bunch of lenses and a briefcase. And there’s room enough in this thing for a lot more. But it’s enough for now. I can pull over whenever I need to to refill the fridge.

Summer is just about here. The house has been sold and the boxes are in a truck headed for the middle of the country and a storage space I’ve never seen.

About the Author

Bob Hate

Bob was a rock and roll musician who had a failed career playing in clubs in and around Dallas, Texas. He was born in Bossier City, Louisiana in 1958, but then disappeared and was rumored dead in 1999 and later in 2014.

View All Articles