I've been out flexing my travel muscles. Mostly the ones that are in my hulking camera hand -- my right index finger is so powerful, it can capture 30 images in under a minute. Watch out, photo shooters, I'm back and I have a full tank of gas.
Here is the thing about visiting somewhere new -- it feels as though I am the very first person to ever be there, to stalk through the strange graveyard, climb the fence covered in rusting pots and pans, wonder at the cactus covered in fading Christmas balls. Filled with pride, adventure, joy, giddiness, I find my legs growing longer and my pace quickening as each new sight unfolds before my ever growing eyeballs. I am invincible on the road, a tornado force of curiosity, Indiana Jones with a stomach full of grubs. No statue is too far off the road, no sign too ridiculous, no historical marker left unread. This huge world is the filling of my Pop Tart and the sun has hung itself above the road, pointing me forward.