To read ten thousand books, to travel ten thousand miles.
----Chinese proverb
Before my mom retired, she worked as a great full-time high school teacher and a super efficient part-time house maker; as a result, she never really had a chance to leave everything behind and go around. One thing mom always says on the phone is that she’s happy for me when I achieve something new; she is supportive for me to travel, too, says it’s like she’s travelling with me, and seeing the world through my eyes. It has become a habit for me to take tons of pictures to send to her, and tell her stories on the road.
But I don’t always want to travel, there are days I’d just stay home as a couch potato, watch movies and read screenplays, dreaming to be a next Hollywood screenwriter. And then there are days I crave to explore the world; otherwise I would explode from the boredom.
I ended up hiking in the Santa Fe sunrise with three guy friends. For a while, I could not understand what happened; my brain was working like a slow watch, every minute it fell behind a little bit. But the scenery was too beautiful for me to ponder on my own world; all I want was to grab the wonderful moment. It was five o’clock in the morning when our Pathfinder ceased at the foot of Santa Mary Park; it was the second day we set off from Los Angeles on the Route 66.
After a long night driving, adrenaline still got some left in our blood, yet not enough for a whole new day coming on the road. The nature, however, defrosted us with its most fresh air from the grass, with the sound of the morning silence, and the warmth from rays of sunshine. The earth tone, the flat roofs, thick and battered wall, it’s the first time I saw a Pueblo Revival building. Somehow it grabbed my attention, like the plasticine attracts a kid. I could feel its breath. Afar it looked like an elegant mystery shining in the halo.
I’d longed for such a fresh morning. For that moment, I really wanted to take a minute and talk with mom, maybe an hour. I wanted to tell her how this dawn brings back memories of many early mornings. The time when I stayed in Del Mar Inn on San Diego coast, I was so excited that I woke up at five and hiked along the coast. The time when I arrived in Shanghai Station after a busy Spring Festival back in college. And I never got to talk about my first day to work in a restaurant in the summer of eighteen. I felt that under the veil of the calm dawn, the new day was going to erupt. And I was so ready to explore.
Then we met Greg. With a giant mug of coffee in his hand, Greg looks like a poet taking his morning walk in the park. In his sixties, he still works as a travelling businessman, owning a travel agent company and…wait…a martial arts training classroom. We started talking, from Kong Fu to Asian greetings, from his new skiing business to our travel plan. Actually, we had no plan except that we just drive along until we have to stop.
Born and raised in Texas, Greg loves and knows the state. As a travel agent professional, Greg typed us a full schedule to road trip from Austin to San Antonio, from Huston to Dallas. The schedule was so detailed and well planned; he even listed all the restaurants for lunches and dinners. We were so gratitude for the helpful schedule. We said goodbye to Greg with firm Texas cowboy handshakes, which he just taught us.
We arrived at the Midpoint later that afternoon. We had to celebrate, and the right place was in the big Texan, Amarillo. Like Greg said, the place is right on the side of the highway, a 50 feet tall sign of cowboy, you would never miss it. Decorated with deer heads and bearskins, it is the place where we had our first real ranch steak, and also the place where we first find ourselves into American food. For starters, we had two big combos of potato chips covered with rich cheese, along with sauced fried chicken and fresh Mexico green pepper. It was so good, I would forget about secret menu of In and Out. For entrée, we devoured 80oz of steak. That is not a lot, really. Big Texan boasts the challenge that if you finish 72oz of steak in an hour by yourself, it is free. Three challengers sat at the table on the high stage, eating and laughing. High up on the wall, the red numbers of the electric clock billboard kept counting down. One hour passed so quickly, they didn’t make it. Yang, the guy in our team who is a man of few words, said he would come back for the challenge, and we were all invited to watch him.
The first thing we did in Fort Worth was to head to Cavender’s and got our cowboy/cowgirl hat. We couldn’t wait to be one of Texas, the state where everything is size big. I bought a refrigerator magnet, it says, “Don’t mess with Texas”. And we all put up the ranger medals with our names on.
Looking very touristy, we arrived in Austin. Dan was waiting in his law firm for us. Greg called his old friend Don to show us his ranch. My first impression of Dan was that he’s so serious, didn’t smile, tall, tough-looking, sunburn cowboy skin, polite and determined. I remembered the magnet; this guy was the kind of guy you don’t want to mess up with.
Dan jumped on his white truck and asked us to follow him. The fifteen minutes to his ranch seemed long, we were upset enough and observed very closely how Dan was driving; none of us knew how to deal with a tough cowboy who doesn’t smile. We joked that he’s going to kidnap us if we said something wrong. Then we arrived in the ranch; my heart was still in my throat. But Dan, however, did not look like himself in the law firm at all; he was now a happy cowboy on his ranch. He had us on his farm wagon, drove us to see the new hatches. The endless green, the scorching sunshine, the calming breeze, and the soothing smell of the ranch, it is the home for five generations of Dan’s family. Dan made a whistle to the sky, a white horse appeared from afar. It was so beautiful, like the elf’s horse in the Lord of the Ring. It ran to us so gently with rhythm, I held back my screams. Four more horses of all colors ran to us, and they gathered around Dan. It’s the family time.
My emotional roller coaster kept going up and down. Then we drove through the cattle. Under the shadows of giant trees, the bulls and calves were having another nice relaxing afternoon. Dan became very talkative when it comes to the cattle. He couldn’t stop talking about the pecan trees, either. Well, I love pecans. I left my selfie stick to Dan as a souvenir; you should see how much he likes the stick. My guess, a lot of selfies are going to happen on the ranch.
Almost when we chewed out all the jerky, we arrived in the Missouri. That night, we ran into a big thunderstorm. We called ourselves knights on the road, but for a while, we felt like we were four wet rats in a small matchbox. All I could do was hoping the car does not soak and the engine does not go wrong in any way. White lightning pierced through the dark sky, and then came the depressing thunders. Through the deep rainwater, we drove closer and closer to the lightning. We kept playing music, and no one talked for a while. Some old songs played, I haven’t heard them for years. I thought of mom, for her generation, women were not encouraged to go anywhere; home was supposed to be their only battlefield. Mom tried hard to earn her job position in our small town and secure a career to spend her passion and brilliance. And until then I finally understand the lyrics, “good girls go to heaven, and bad girls go everywhere”.
At the seventh night, we drove into the windy city Chicago. No one knew we could accomplish the trip in seven days. I would love to do it again, but I know it’ll never gonna be as perfect.
After I returned from the road trip, I was so happy to hear that mom and her girlfriends were going on a trip to Xiamen, a nice city on the east coast, for a one-week sightseeing. It’s the first real trip for her after so many years of occupied work. As much as I hate the limitation of time and space, of language and love actions, I have a wish. That is, I travel further, the distance between mom and me does not become any longer; I have a different life, and the difference between mom and me does not become any bigger. (1566 words)
