High Plains Drifter

Stetson-clad, driving on instinct, I am careening out of Catavina's boulder gardens. Wheels akin feet, we are gripping the road as the turns tighten. In the zone, the sort of non-cognitive state that athletes strive for, and is spoken in the application of Zen to archery and the martial arts. I feel like a Highplains Drifter, Clint in Carharts, a caballero riding a 22re powered Japanese horse. A semi appears up the hill, then disappears-approaching. The road in this section is literally too small for the massive 16 -wheeler and it is encroaching on the yellow dividing line that guides me. There is a shoulder, no bigger than my own, of gravel before the cliffs drops into an arroyo below. The dented guardrail offers no solace, it says someone has been driven off the road before. Deep below in the bosom of Dr. Suessian Boojem trees and old growth Cardon cacti, lies the carcass of an old pickup. On the roadside ahead I see a tire-iron cross, a shrine to the deceased, a common decoration on Baja 1. There is no time to think, simply to act. The semi VVVvvvvvvvvpss by inches from my mirror I am
inches from the edge. The sign ahead of me reads "CURVAS PELIGROSAS." Yes.... these are "dangerous curves." Shaken, I am prone to introspection and begin to see the signs that guide me as Zen lessons. Tidbits of information, often enigmatic, they are meant to guide the driver on the road trip that is Baja 1, a NOLS course or life. I took these eight lessons out with me on National Outdoor Leadership School kayaking course (1/05/05) and used them as creative ways to brief or debrief using the power of allegory. Here they are 1 by 1.