Yes, the road.

Yes, the road.
Eagle Nest, New Mexico. “People like to drive because driving is actually and symbolically an almost perfect mechanism for escape…there is probably no human being who does not have troubles, real or imagined, from which he at times feels the need to flee.” George R. Stewart.


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Brooklin, Maine, United States
We own a 1975 GMC Sierra Grande 15 in Maine and a 1986 Chevrolet Custom Deluxe 10 in West Texas. Also a pair of 1997 Volvo 850 wagons. Average age in the fleet is 28 years--we're recycling. I've published 3 novels: THE LAW OF DREAMS (2006), THE O'BRIENS (2012), and CARRY ME (2016). Also 2 short story collections: NIGHT DRIVING(1987) and TRAVELLING LIGHT (2013). More of my literary life is at I was a Fellow at the Netherlands Institute for Advanced Study for 2012-13. I'm an adjunct professor at Colorado College and in the MFA program at Queens University of Charlotte. In 2015-16 I was a Fellow at Harvard University's Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Study. The Autoliterate office is in Car Talk Plaza in Harvard Square, 2 floors above Dewey Cheatem & Howe. SUBSCRIBE TO THE AUTOLITERATE DAILY EMAIL by hitting the button to the right.

Sunday, October 7, 2012

Another Roadside Attraction: Eagle Nest, New Mexico

Drove US 64 from Taos over the mountains to Raton, New Mexico. High plains within the mountains are a landscape that has always spoken to me. The Yah-ha-Tinda in Alberta was the first time I experienced that sort of country in the West. I've always loved the landscape of the Eastern Sierra--esp. around Bridgeport, CA--and the country around Eagle Nest, New Mexico, where I grabbed these photos this morning, was that kind of unexpected wide open. Taos was shrouded under freezing fog when I left but up over the first range east it was clear. The town of Eagle Nest, N.M.  is at over  8000'. We're spending the year in The Netherlands, and I admire the careful way the Dutch guard their landscape--and especially the civil way they live in their towns and cities--but part of me was craving the careless, wide open West, and here it is.
    Speaking of altitude, I'm reading Wade Davis' Into the Silence: The Great War, Mallory and the Conquest of Everest. A ripping yarn.

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