In retrospect, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to do Shintaido new year pre-dawn meditations during a solo cross-country drive January a year ago. Shintaido workshops and meditations tend to leave me dazed, and here it was, day two, and I drove over two hundred miles after the motel meditation, across the state of New Mexico well into Arizona, before I noticed I was on the wrong interstate.

But the detour I took north to Flagstaff proved to be the richest part of the trip. Approaching Globe, Arizona, I came upon a stretch of road that was closed to public traffic until early evening. I had a choice to take a circuitous route, or hold tight in Winkelman for half an hour until the road would open. I consulted with three regulars hanging outside of the gas station store. We all spoke the same language, but didn't quite understand each other. It was quiet, the air smelled of arid earth. What fates had stopped me at this isolated post at this awkward conjunction with these men? I thanked them, left my burdened car in the parking lot, and took a walk to learn more about what their home territory was like.