If you are reading this as a new post, I am about half way to Tulsa, Oklahoma. And that means the information is a few days old. It was written shortly before I hit the road.

The AAA Route 66 Road Fest where I am to speak from the stage Staurday as well as Sunday afternoon may be the destination. But it is a Jim Hinckley’s America road trip, and that means a stop or two at fascinating place such as Geezerville (officially San Fidel) in New Mexico.

If You Are Reading This

If you are reading this, I have a story to share. For younger folk, anyone under fifty years of age, it may seem as though I am writing this in a foreign language. However, if you passed that milestone, or for folks like me that have to squint hard to see sixty in the rear view mirror, you might be able to relate.

While packing for the trip, snippets of recent stories about D Day anniversary celebrations played in the back of my mind. Specifically it was scenes of these old warriors walking the sands of Normandy, and thoughts of how they made that long and arduous trip.

Those fellows in France commemorating a hard fought battle that took place 80 years ago are tougher than a bag of nails. The fact that they are still alive, and are still able to make a trip like that, is evidence of that durability.

Sands of Time

But no matter how rough and tough we are, the sands of time wear us down. Look at those old warriors today, and then read about their exploits eighty years ago.

In my minds eye I am still tougher than saddle leather nearly worn to the tree. But the truth is that I am officially an old fart. The simple fact that my travel kit now includes blood pressure pills, Pepto Bismal, asprin, kee brace, and spare eye glasses instead of homemade beef jerky, a few cans of beans, fruit cocktail and chili, a spoon, GI can opener on the key chain, bedroll, and a bag of Bull Durham and some papers says it all. But I ain’t dead yet.

So, once again I am following Route 66 east to Oklahoma. And then I will follow it back to Arizona. It’s another trip down memory lane. It’s another adventure on a road that has been a big part of my life since 1959.

The Storyteller

For a brief momemnt in time back in the 1970s, I was a gear jammer. My route was Kingman to Oklahoma City or Wichita. The highway was a blending of old Route 66, and I40, unless I was headed for Wichita. Then at Tucumcari I hit U.S. 54.

During my short stint on the road, I pushed a COE (cab over engine) Kenworth K100 down the highway. And as with my short lived career as a ranch hand, I fully embraced the romaticism. And so I have a new career, storyteller, the reward for having survived.

And so now, I travel the roads and share America’s story. And now I am paid for telling people where to go. Another benefit of surviving.

Perhaps I will see you at the AAA Route 66 Road Fest in Tulsa. I will be telling stories, and sharing the stage with truly legendary storytellers like Michael Wallis. Unlike the fellow on the corner with a sign panhandling for food, moeny or beer, I tell stories. I tell people where to go.

If our paths happen to cross this next week, give a holler. Perhaps we can share stories over a coffee or beer. And I will have a truck of books. It would be my pleasure to personalize a copy or two for you.

See you on the road.