Some people actually like 'going for a drive.' I can't say I'm one of them. I drive like I shop -- because it is necessary and let's try to get it over with. But there are exceptions. There are some areas in New Mexico where the density of traffic is so low that you can slow down, relax, and look at the scenery. Then you cross over into a state to the north -- which shall remain unnamed -- and immediately you notice three times as much traffic. I've not only cancelled that state, I've coloradicated it.
But yesterday I was enjoying the drive along the north shore of Lake Mead. Every year that I return to the Southwest, I enjoy the air more and the land less. The landscape along Lake Mead belongs on the moon instead of Earth. Still, you can be in the mood for that sometimes, especially when the sun is low. It helps to have a 50 mph speed limit.
I sighed, I cooed while driving over the Colorado River and leaving the great Sodom of North American time zones. Now I am back to Arizona time, God's time. If that wasn't relief enough, gasoline is over $1 cheaper per gallon here than it was in Nevada. Apparently Nevada aspires to be California.
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When I left Phoenix years ago I said then that it had become a suburb of Los Angeles and had everything that L.A. had except the ocean. It has become far worse now and still does not have an ocean.