I have been down countless roads like this one. For work, not pleasure. 10 years travelling the back country oilpatch servicing roads, doing a job that I didn't particularily like. I would lie if I told.you that I never got lost. After a few years each road seemed indistinctly familiar. Gravel. Clay. Mud. Trees. The only thing that changed was the seasons. Winter became spring. Spring to summer. Summer to fall. Fall back to winter. And another year passed me by. Or perhaps I passed by another year. I am in my sixth year in a new career. I work minutes from home. Rarely travel out of my town. I work indoors now. Traded one window for another. Only now I stare out into a dark loading bay at a concrete plant that I operate. I do miss the freedom. The trees. The fresh air. The empty roads.