Making memories

 "My dear, what are you doing?" 

"Making a memory! All my life, when I'm quite grown-up I will always remember my grandfather and how he smelled of (sniffs) tobacco and peppermint."

- The Parent Trap

The scents of the outside world are often missed by travelers driving by. The few cars we see that are off the main road have the windows up and the air conditioning on. When it's 102 degrees out, I don't blame them. A hot car is a miserable place to be. On a bike, the wind helps it feel 10-15 degrees cooler, even if it feels a bit like a hot blow dryer at times. 

But each place on the road has scents that will always be parts of this memory. East of El Centro, farmland of alfalfa and onions. Arizona had a lot of sage brush. New Mexico, juniper. The Interstate 10, diesel trucks climbing up and down the grade outside the town of Sierra Blanca. Families cooking their dinners as we roll silently down the side residential streets. Dairy farms and family farms. New flowering trees that I can't identify. Most recently, deer carcasses rotting as the buzzards feast. They're not so bad if you pass them on a downhill with the wind in your favor, but a midday climb at 5 miles an hour, that deer stench hangs around. And we ride on. Expecting rain soon, which will bring more fragrance to the dry countryside. A winery or two down the road, identifying all the complex aromas in a glass. More unknown territory as we move east. 

Remembering the scents of all that's behind us. I wonder if Bryan remembers his mother smells of coffee and stale milk. 

I'm sure he does. You never forget your mother's smell. Soon enough this adventure will be a memory. Enjoying every part of it.