Took our drive yesterday afternoon. Our drive goes south of Canyon on I-27 for about 12 miles; then east on FM 285, past Hidden Falls Ranch, to Wayside; then the road turns south for two miles, then east for another four, where it dead ends into Texas Hwy. 207. From there, we go north to Claude (stopping for a while at the scenic overlook on the south rim of Palo Duro Canyon). In Claude, we intersect U.S. 287 where we travel northeast back to Amarillo and home.

It’s our drive because we do it often (at least every two months) and because it holds all the memories. . .

Of a little side road just east of I-27 where, in June of 1968, neither of us remember the exact words, but somehow I stuttered a “will you,” and she responded with a “yes.”

Of the summer camp where we began our spiritual journeys in the ‘60s and our family in the ‘70s (if you know our five adult children, you know each of them knows how to handle an ornery horse or rattlesnake).

Of the canyon overlook on 207, which offers the clearest view of Palo Duro, and which helped give clarity to more than one of our decisions over the years—regarding marriage, family, education, career change, even retirement.

The preacher Sunday morning spoke of visual memorials the Hebrew people identified to remind them of significant blessings of God.

It seems Charlotte and I have some of our own, most located along our drive.