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The hum of tires on asphalt, accompanied by the muffled grumblings of a tired but willing diesel. A sound so very comforting and welcome to me, as I leave the South behind. Hauling my 40,000 pound load to destinations West. Navigating those Arkansas backroads through heavily forested mountains. OK, not really mountains like I’m used to, but a pretty good climb nonetheless.
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I do enjoy getting off the freeway from time to time. Leaving the mainstream behind, and venturing out on my own. I have always said that every place has it’s own beauty. Whether its the deserts of the southwest or the Appalachian mountains.  Sometimes you just have to open your eyes and see what is right in front of you.
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I look forward to each mile, reveling in new yet old sights.  Every time I take a route, there is something new, or simply something I have not noticed before.
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I do have to stop every once in awhile, take a breath, and enjoy the sounds of nature. The wind whispering through branches and leaves, sharing secrets old and new.  The music is there, soft and wonderful, composed by the spirits and God’s of old. An quiet orchestra, striving to be heard by those willing to listen.
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The solitude, so very rejuvenating and rewarding to me. I long for the days I can run solo. Taking the time I need to be alone, yet always accompanied by the spirits. Even in a storm, they sing, creating a melody rich and at times foreboding.  All I have to do is listen.
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