Journal

The Road Curves Toward Others is a Route 66 story about pausing your own plans to help a stranger, and the grace found in small roadside moments. I have to be honest, I really wasn’t feeling generous that day. Somewhere along Route 66, somewhere between the playlists and the prayers, I had slipped into my … Read more

The Freezer Light Still Worked is a Route 66 story about finding quiet resilience in unexpected places, even when life feels half-empty. Some days stretch long and flat, like the road outside Kingman, sun-baked and stuck in place. That was me, pulled off the highway into an old roadside market, the kind with creaky wood … Read more

Sing Like Nobody’s Listening is a Winslow, AZ moment that invites you to lean into joy even when strangers are watching. Mary and I had been on the road for hours — no real schedule, just that kind of long-haul wandering that feels sacred without trying too hard. We rolled into town like thousands of … Read more

The Mohawk Moment is a Route 66 story about finding history and quiet meaning at the abandoned Mohawk Gas Station in Oro Grande, California. Years ago, on one of my “I’m off for a drive” days I had the Mohawk Moment. I left I-15 to catch the old Route 66 alignment near Victorville. I was … Read more

Coffee, Grief, and Clean Sheets is a quiet Route 66 motel story about small comforts that bring grace on hard days — clean linens, bad coffee, and a door that locks. I checked into a little roadside motel years ago. I remember it clearly — the kind of place where the front desk is also … Read more

The Sky Was Doing Its Thing Again is a Route 66 journal entry about an unexpected moment outside a truck stop, where a child’s wonder pulled me out of my phone and into the sky’s quiet show. I was parked outside a Love’s Travel Stop, half-running on caffeine and half-hoping I’d remembered to lock the … Read more

The Ice Machine Was Broken is a Route 66 travel story about an old motel, a faulty ice machine, and a stranger whose simple kindness made the road feel less lonely. I pulled into a little motel just off I-40 — one of those faded places where the “NO” in the NO VACANCY sign doesn’t … Read more

One cup, two chairs and a sky that stayed were waiting outside Room 6 of the Blue Swallow Motel in Tucumcari. She didn’t say much at first, just motioned to the chair beside her and poured a second cup. It was early, the kind of morning where the sky stretches like it’s remembering how to … Read more

What The Burros Know isn’t written in any book — it’s in the way they move through Oatman like they own the place. She said she came for the donkeys, but I think they came for her. They blocked traffic without a care, one even standing in front of her rental car for a full … Read more

The Woman at Roy’s Motel and Cafe on Route 66 wasn’t supposed to be there. Not in Amboy, not in the desert, and certainly not in the middle of Roy’s. Yet there she was, suitcase in the trunk, funeral program still riding shotgun. She had flown out for a funeral in California and planned to … Read more