Tom Paxton is doing Can’t Help But Wonder Where I’m Bound
Almost 48 years ago to the day Billy and I set out across the U.S. on our thumbs, headed from Richmond, Virginia to San Francisco, California. I had just turned 19. The trip was ostensibly to visit Cousin B. Those exploits are somewhat divulged in Beer For Breakfast.
At age 67, I am semi-retired, footloose, and fancy free. Last Tuesday, after a month of sorting, tossing stuff, and packing the rest into a U-Haul truck, I parked my Explorer on top of a car carrier and left Johns Creek, Georgia. Fifteen hundred miles later, on Thursday, with a hand from my son who lives there, I offloaded my stuff into a storage unit in Ft. Collins, Colorado.
Determined to live no further east than the front range of the Rockies, Ft. Collins is a good starting point. Redrock bound so to speak. There have been many adventures, both big and small, in the years between age 19 and now. This is the beginning of the next one.
I rented an Airbnb on the shores of Horsetooth Reservoir for one month. A one-day Zoom meeting midway through with old friends will foot this bill. I took a day to get settled in then headed up to the Cache la Poudre River for some…
