Route 163 looked like a line drawn with a ruler that someone had forgotten to pick up. The red towers stood well back from it. I had about forty-five miles left in the afternoon and, for once, no desire to make them disappear.
I had started the day with coffee that cost $2.50 and tasted mainly of the cup. By late afternoon the cup was empty, the cab was warm, and every sandstone wall had acquired an orange edge. The landscape was doing a lot with very little movement.
The first stop was a proper turnout with a wide view across the valley. I shut the door and heard the engine ticking itself cool. There was a little wind, a little dust, and an enormous amount of distance. I took two photographs. The second was almost exactly the first.
Two stops, no hurry
I stayed until the shadow of the car had stretched farther than seemed reasonable. From that angle the mesas looked flat and solid, as if they had been set down carefully and left. A truck passed, made a brief sound, and became a speck. Then the valley went back to what it had been doing.
The second stop came farther south, at another turnout where the rock had begun to shift from orange to red. I ate the last crackers from the glove compartment and watched a narrow shadow work its way across a cliff. Half an hour passed. The crackers were not worth describing. The shadow was.
A note on fuel
One useful detail from the receipt pile: I bought gas before the long open stretch. The fuel needle had suggested I could postpone it. The next few miles offered rocks, sky, and more rocks. If you are counting on a pump around the next bend, that bend may disappoint you. I preferred having the receipt.
As the light thinned, the road stopped being the brightest thing in the view. The yellow centerline caught a little sun, then lost it. Beyond the windshield the buttes had turned purple. I put the empty cup in the bag with the cracker wrapper and kept going.
Dinner happened after dark. I remember the potatoes, not the price. In the notebook, beside the mileage, I wrote “leave more afternoon next time.” A fairly good plan, provided next time I remember where I put the notebook.