The American road is mythological,
and for good reason: the landscape
is vast and the history compelling.
I have, on occasion, taken three days
to cross from coast to coast in mad,
Kerouacian, binge-driving dashes with
friends. I've also taken months and
done it solitary, slow and easy.

The highway can take you places,
but it is mainly a conduit for industrial
exploitation. The highway is imposed
upon the landscape in order to
penetrate it — the seasonal passing
of elk, bear, frogs or turtles
not withstanding.

Accordingly the highway stands as
an active reminder of how human
enterprise disrupts the natural order.
It illustrates how our interventions
impose upon nature and how
concerned we need to be about
any damage we do in the process.