I awoke around 7 or 730 this morning after staying up past 1AM with a somber feeling in my heart and a hint of fatigue in my shoulders. Rockabilly on the Route in Tucumcari was over and folks were starting to filter out of the town.
A weekend of high comed pomps, petticoats and the chugging slapping sounds of double basses had come to an end and it was time to return to normal life.
I'm sad not so much because the festivities had ended, but rather because I would soon be pointing my front wheel towards my own home and putting in my rear view mirror people that I genuinely care for and miss when I can't be around them.
The energy in Tucumcari has faded as quickly as the bands and hotrods drove out of town and I am left looking at a sleepy route 66 town. The sun bakes the asphalt and continues its work of fading old paint and neon signs that once glowed brightly during its heyday.
I find myself emotionally ready to leave and head back to Missouri...
...and I hate that feeling.
I'll be here another day so I can go over my motorcycle and make sure everything is tip top and such and to make sure I'm adequately rested for the start of the following day's journey.
Route 66 really is the people and the experience and not just the sights.
No comments:
Post a Comment