Thanks to a pre-scheduled, web-based meeting that I had to incorporate into this trip, the family accommodated a late departure from our Moab motel, restocking the cooler with healthy foods that we eventually deferred in favor of junk food on the long road to Flagstaff. I decompressed from the morning’s anticipatory angst about wifi access by building Lego creations in the back seat with Ben. Bob did what Bob does (drive) and Lia did what Lia does (airpod ignore us).
Miles and miles of Utah and Arizona road went past, and I found myself looking across the Hopi Reservation land, wondering how a peoples survive on the vast dry landscape. I was struck in a new way, by seeing it roll out before my eyes after learning about it all my life, at exactly HOW MUCH these peoples have survived. I took to reading about the reservation’s history, about the land rights conflicts and Tribal Council models of government imposed upon the Hopis and Navajos, primarily to isolate them, divide them from each other, and steal the minerals from beneath the land they were assigned to. Maybe it was fitting then, after we rolled into the forest of Flagstaff like we were coming upon Lothlorien, after we sat in the patio of the first (of many) breweries we came upon, that a person of color on a bike rolled by the dining locals and tourists and gave a loud “White Power!” fist pump while speeding by. All I could do was sigh, and slump a little.
All in all it was an “off” day for the family. Practicalities, realities, flawed mentalities, you name it– even laundry. But we still moved along, doing our best together, because as much as this trip is about adventure, it is about learning and loving too, even at our shameful moments. Tomorrow, as they say, is a new day.
Car Full of Carpenters 