A RIVER RUNS THROUGH IT

Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.

I am haunted by waters.

Try as I might, squinting through the glaring sun, I failed to glimpse Brad Pitt fly fishing on any of the beautiful rivers I saw over the last couple of days. But I did see people kayaking, rafting, and yes, even fly fishing, getting an early start on this holiday weekend. Our country is so beautiful and if I wasn't so lucky to be sitting in this passenger seat, I would have never had seen what I have this past year.

Our routing has taken us off the main Interstates, onto roads first forged many years ago and long past forgotten for roads that will take you where you want to go just a little bit faster. I find I like the roads less traveled, as they give you the opportunity to see some of nature left untouched, unchanged by progress.

It surprised me when looking on the map that we would actually drive through the very western park of Yellowstone National Park. Although just seeing a microscopic portion of this great park, it was still awe inspiring, not only for me, but for the long parade of cars, RV's, and motorcycles we saw driving towards it like the mecca for nature lovers that it is.

Our drops went extremely smoothly in both Billings and Pocatello. We are left with one lonely looking boat on the trailer while we wait out the holiday weekend in Boise to make the last delivery Tuesday morning. The rest over Sunday and Monday will be welcomed, as we have been running pretty hard, putting thousands of miles behind us, over the last ten days.

Yes, a river runs through it.... the road is never ending....the quest to travel and see America is insatiable.... and these words are mine.