Petrified National Forest - April 22

No matter how nasty the bed is, sleeping on an actual mattress and covered by real sheets does wonders for the mood; the ability to take a shower, especially one after waking up from said nasty bed, just enhances the goodness.

Leaving Flagstaff, I headed East for Petrified National Forest, my mind wandering to the journey ahead and the days behind. Texting hellos and talking about the day before me with Katie, I was finally relaxed and happy again and, an hour into the drive, I decided to stop in at Wal-Mart for some odds and ends that I had neglected to purchase earlier.

Walking into the store in Two Guns, AZ it was interesting to see how the local's eyes glanced my way and grew big in fits of wonderment or amusement. Perhaps it was my Nike attire, soccer short and Dri-fits my daily wear, or perhaps it was my city boy amble, but the locals kept glancing in my direction, their attention diverted away from their weekly shopping trip for a brief moment.

The looks directed my way harbored no anger, nor did they have any semblance of hostility rather, I felt the way a B-movie celebrity would feel, the averted eyes and whispers carrying just far enough to catch my ears and telling me I was the focal point of that moment.

Before entering into this enclave of ranchers, I had sent a picture message to Katie and had placed my phone in my cart with the hope of receiving a reciprocal picture back. Throughout the 30 minute walk around the store - my goal to buy groceries, hats, and sunglasses - my phone remained mute, not a ring or beep out of it until I hit the checkout line and was mid conversation with the middle aged, slightly overweight Indian lady so obviously underjoyed to be working at WalMart.

The screen flashed a message that I only caught a glimpse of, something about "failure to send due to insufficient memory", and I set my course for Bessie, my newly purchased fedora protecting my badly burned scalp from future damage. I needed to delete all of the old messages from my phone's Inbox and set about typing in the request. While waiting for the phone to finish its short and simple task, I began to tidy up the mess of books and clothing that had shifted and fallen during my travels over hills and around windy bends.

Picking up my phone to check my messages after a few minutes of cleaning, I was confused to find that it was turned off. Pressing the power button, the phone fired up slowly and I was presented with only partial control: though I could see the screen and scroll through my menu, it would not allow me access to any messages or calls.

Just like that it was dead. No outgoing or incoming calls; no texts or any kind; nothing. Angry again at the world, God received my wrath, my mouth spewing forth curse words at a rate an auctioneer would find difficult to follow. By now, after the past few challenges that were my previous two days, I was angry at God, wondering why He chose to challenge me so. How was it that so many little choices could go so awry, so many seemingly simple tasks could be made so difficult? How could a brand new phone, my only means of true communication and safety net should something truly go amiss, just die?

The question has arisen, from various sources, as to what my rationale for questioning and blaming God during all of this is. To answer this question is a task that deserves, and will receive, its own post later. For now, I will attempt to summate my thoughts so that any of your personal anger or amusement over my words may hopefully be dissipated, even if only slightly.

Over the past four or five years of my life I have become aware of a feeling that I have a larger purpose in this life than my current existence and that I am being led to find this true path by signs that are sometimes easy to see and sometimes so difficult that they are overlooked. It is through this feeling, no matter how misguided, that I have chosen to let fate be my guide during this journey. In trusting fate I was trusting that things would work out without realizing my own role in their workings. It is from this lack of knowledge of my part that I am angry and lost and therefore blaming.

Just East of Petrified Forest, driving in anger and desperately trying to fix my phone with every trick my frantically spinning mind could conjure, all the while intermittently questioning and cursing God's role in this, I heard the flub, flub, flub noises associated with a flat tire emanating from the rear of Bessie.

Looking out my side mirrors I saw nothing to indicate a flat and pulled cautiously into the Park. Heading directly into the first turn off I pulled out my lap top and wireless card and immediately went on-line to see if Katie was on Facebook so I could explain why I had so mysteriously vanished.

Not finding her on-line I left the Facebook tab open and opened my Hotmail account to send an e-mail when I heard the "ding" of an opened chat window. Clicking back over I saw that Erin, my assistant soccer coach from CV, was on-line and saying hello.

Erin's sweet nature is enhanced by her beauty and intelligence, she is truly one of the kindest people walking this planet. I coached her six years ago when she was a shy, non-conforming member of an OUSA team whose 16 year old members attempted daily to exhibit more knowledge about soccer than their coaches. She and I became friends when she joined CV's staff to coach her sister - a difficult choice being that her playing days were spent on the dark side at CHS. She enjoyed the experience so much she has stuck around for the past two seasons, alternating in her role as coach and team mom.

Seeing that I was on-line and curious as to how I could spend so much time connected to the web while away from most electricity, she was checking in to ask about my trip. Knowing that she and Katie were friends and surmising that she had a phone that worked, my quickly typed words must have practically begged her to make a call I couldn't.

Immediately sensing my frustration she set about calling Katie and I was quickly rewarded with the ding of a new chat window opening. Seeing my errors in typing and the speed of my writing, Katie could tell that I was angry and calmly told me to slow down.

Again, the familiarity of voice, even if over a computer screen, calmed my rambling mind and she was able to talk me down again, her mix of genuine concern and humor eliciting a smile from me within minutes. Feeling the tension slowly ebbing from my body, not fully gone but me no longer wanting to kill anyone, I thanked Katie for her patience and told her I loved her, my mind now capable of settling back into an attempt at relaxation.

Contemplating life again, I put up my blog address in 2" white letters purchased from Wal-Mart on the back of Bessie and sat back down on my rear bench to read about the Forest and find a camping spot. Unfortunately, but somewhat expected after the past few days, I found that the Park offered no overnight campground ammenities and would be closing within the hour.

My plan to spend the night camped in Bessie shot, I again headed East, my goal to shorten the distance between me and Albuquerque. Back out on the road I was focused on the drive ahead, half cursing my existence, half relaxed from the words of calm instilled by a kindred spirit when I again noticed the consistent flub, flub, flubbing of something seriously wrong coming from Bessie.