Death on the Road to Arizona

The first of two posts about our Sunday travels

“It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien

No matter how ordinary and seemingly inconsequential, the decisions we make impact what happens each day, perhaps even what we look back on for years, maybe even a lifetime.

Sunday morning began with restrained excitement and before dawn. We were driving from Farmington, New Mexico, to Flagstaff, Arizona, my favorite western community. Clarence needed an oil change, tire rotation, a 60,000-mile check-up, and Findlay Volkswagen took good care of us on our two previous trips. The staff not only welcome Samwise and Emily, they embrace them. (They’ve all read “Will’s Red Coat” and “Following Atticus.”)

The only problem was the forecasted snow in Flagstaff. When I made reservations, there was none. A few days ago, it evolved into 1 to 2 feet of snow. By the time we left Farmington, it had grown to 2 to 3 feet.

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