5/14

Fire closure forced us onto the road. There are no trees or water, only a thin vein of asphalt running to a disappearing desert horizon. Gone are the ice-blanketed 8,000 foot passes, and now we walk alone in the floor of the beige-colored quartz oven. But we found a giant willow tree bending over sand on the bank of a desert stream, and here in the shade we will wait until the sun has dropped its guard, and start walking again. The plastic Jesus in the roadside sand will watch us.