After I saw the movie “Dances with Wolves,” I knew I had to see the rugged western United States before the “wild west” disappeared. It took a while, but I finally convinced my family to make the trip, and we fell in love with the beauty of the west.

My youngest son must’ve felt the same way because he heard the same call I’d had years ago.

He’d had a rough year.

In the fall, his house burned to the ground. Luckily, no one was home at the time, but to see ashes where your home once stood was devastating.

A couple of months later, Chris was injured in an on-the-job accident. Surgery on his finger was required, and his doctor told him he had to let the tendon heal.

While he was recuperating, he was able to spend a great deal of time with his four children, and being around his sons and daughters was more therapeutic than any antibiotic or surgical procedure.

A life-long dog lover, Chris also brought a baby bloodhound into his life but he remained restless.

In a conversation about places to visit, a friend told him about the Petrified National Forest in Arizona, and, for some reason, seeing something millions of years old intrigued him.

He remembered our trip to Yellowstone National Park but not the majesty an adult feels when seeing those rugged mountains, endless acres of rippling grasses and cobalt blue lakes reflecting snow-covered mountain peaks.

When one loses their home and there’s no job to go to every day, it’s easy to lose one’s way.

He needed an anchor.

He needed to find his way again.

So he loaded up an ice chest, a suitcase, and his puppy and headed west.

For many of us, driving those miles of deserted roadways through Texas, Arizona and New Mexico would be a nightmare, but not for Chris.

The miles gave him time to think and regroup.

He stopped at roadside shops and fell in love with Southwest art and artifacts.

Shopkeepers became sources of information and knowledge, and he soaked up their stories.

He took a detour for a stretch along the iconic Route 66 and, even though he’s young, understood the importance of that roadway in American history.

Because of the government shutdown, he wasn’t able to go through the whole national park, but seeing the nearby Painted Desert was incredible, he said.

Purples, reds, browns and tans painted the landscape as far as the eye could see, and that sight of endless beauty and possibilities struck a chord with him, and the trip was worth every hour spent on the road.

He came back to Texas in time to see his son compete in the Cub Scouts’ Pinewood Derby, and had gifts for everyone. His favorite souvenirs were his Baja jacket and the matching ones he got for his boys.

As they stood in a circle, all happily wearing their jackets, I sensed a peace and calm in their father I hadn’t seen in a long time.

Maybe the petrified wood struck home with him – this was wood that over millions of years transformed into something different yet similar to its original state.

Perhaps that gradual transformation from the original into something different is what makes nature and people strong, long lasting and things of new beauty.

“Go west, young man” is what newspaper editor Horace Greeley said in the late 1800s. Over two hundred years later, that advice is still sound.

At least it was for a young man who needed a bit of an adventure and to see that the world, like the highways and experiences between where we are and where we want to go, are filled with possibilities.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.