The Budget rental truck having departed Oklahoma, Crossing the Kansas Stateline at Kiowa, the view of the water tower presenting a welcome to the 12 square block community. Gary making a decision to go by the Price apartments , his past residence, one last memorable time , before driving the three blocks to the Kiowa Hospital.
The two entering the medical facility, Gary greeted with smiles, introducing Fran to the staff, giving special notice to special friends, Glenda Holdaway, Gay Farney and a pillar of hospital healthcare, Director of Nursing Sharon Ragan. To Gary the Kiowa community was home, the Apostolic Christian Church, the years working at the John Deere affiliate, Kiowa Service Company, USD 255, the Grade School and the Kiowa District Hospital and Manor. His move to California having closed the door on a miraculous part of his life, but his marriage to Fran has opened another.
. The couples visit with one more stop, having made a prior phone call to his daughter Sandra, who would be in Kiowa, making arrangements to meet and have a lunch at the Ranch House restaurant. Sandra was the exact opposite of Marlo, it was like night and day. Gary choosing to remain somewhat silent during the meal, witnessing Sandra’s acceptance of Fran as family, the two carrying on a conversation like they had known each other forever. With a two lane Oklahoma blacktop drive awaiting, saying goodbye to Sandra, his Princess, was difficult. The road was familiar, the rental truck pilot having traveled the southwest rural route to intersect Interstate 40 from Kiowa before, their goal was to attain Amarillo before dark, but with the lateness of the afternoon stopping for fuel, they noticed a marquee, We Accept Pets, at the Irish Inn at Shamrock Texas, deciding they had traveled enough for one day.
Spending the night, the August Texas morning sun in Amarillo greeting the voyagers, canine Sammi, finally comfortable with riding in a truck. It was the beginning of another long drive on the Interstate, saying goodbye to Texas entering New Mexico, skirting metropolitan Albuquerque on the Interstate 40 bypass. Gary remembering 38 years ago, when old Route 66, which became interstate 40, traveled through the downtown business section. Traversing the high plains of New Mexico, the dry expanse, seemingly endless for the four lane Interstate. Grants, then Gallup, the small citadel remembered as a, one side of the tracks town. Crossing into Arizona, they could see the cumulus clouds building, giving notice of a high plains thunderstorm, Gary hoping it would pass, not looking forward to driving in the rain.
The echoing sounds of thunder and the accompanying lightning from the darken aura of the circular accumulation, the sky giving notice of the storms presence. The wind buffeting the truck, the wipers having difficulty adhering to their job. Gary debating whether to continue or to stop and wait out the downpour. His indecision was answered, as the cloud cover and rain-diminished, and like the lifting of a blind, the sun appeared, reflecting on the glistening pavement. The twilight in the west beckoning them into Winslow Arizona before dropping below the horizon, the way-stop of a town in the middle of nowhere, was given a nationally known address by the iconic Eagles Band with their song, Take It Easy. “Well, I’m a-standin’ on a corner in Winslow Arizona And such a fine sight to see, It’s a girl, my Lord, in a flat-bed Ford, Slowin’ down to take a look at me” With the nightfall calling a halt to their journey the weary travelers stopping at the Winslow Inn, on the west side of town.
A Winslow morning and breakfast, the couple once again on the Interstate and the incline to the elevated scenic city of Flagstaff. Arriving, a brief stop for fuel, a panoramic view of the majestic San Francisco Peaks before beginning their downhill trek. The couple enjoying the tree-lined descent, when something that sounded like hail began hitting the windshield, its intensity briefly rising in volume, and as sudden as it began, it stopped. It was then noticed, the evidence of its cause, below the bottom of the windshield and pasted on the hood, were the remains of numerous bees, apparently a swarm of bees crossed the highway, their pelting impact sounding just like hail, a new experience. Crossing the California Stateline, passing through Needles, a stop at the fruit inspection station, before entering the expanse of the 54,000 square miles of the Mojave Desert, that stretches north, and east thru four states. Continuing on to Barstow, departing interstate 40, progressing on California 58, only now in a northwestern direction, the barren flatness of the Mojave desert still providing flora, cactus, and the renown Joshua trees, a beauty only perceived by those with an inward recognition of nature.
The desert soon giving way to the rise of the Tehachapi Mountains and the notorious highway pass, once known for runaway trucks, often made famous in the cinematography productions of a past era, with scenes of truckers losing their brakes, a reflection of the past remains, the highway still dotted with turn-off’s as a precaution. The 24 foot rental discovering highway 99 at Bakersfield, with the sun waning and a 4 1/2 hour drive yet remaining to destination, Columbia, a decision to halt for the night in Bakersfield was made to late, Gary not wanting to turn around and go back. Continuing on, the familiar beckoning signs of motels once again began to appear, the weary travelers would spend the night in the small town of Delano. The morning finding the couple resuming the remaining 240 mile trek north, first through Fresno, and Merced, turning northeast on State 59 and its junction with Highway 1 oh 8 to Sonora.
The journey about to experience closure, the final five miles of travel to Columbia coming swiftly, the furniture laden rental truck traversing up his sister Nancy’s drive, Gary and Fran’s 6 day 3,189 mile journey coming to a conclusion.
Inquisitive Quest 
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