After being on the road a month, finally getting out of California and into another state seemed a significant accomplishment. I felt like things were finally moving along, and I was eager to build on the momentum accrued through my explorations of the wilds in California, ready to launch even further and farther into this epic adventure. The cosmos, however, had other ideas. On my second official day in the southwest, my travels came to a screeching halt….or I should rather say: a crunching/grating/grinding/“did I run over a pile of cats?” halt. As I was pulling out of the exit from a beautiful State Park outside of Payson, Arizona, I heard the most horrific, grating, jarring, crumpling sound I’d ever heard come from a car, a sound that echoed in the cavernous recesses of a sickened
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