Back when the world was free and Mom believed she could predict the future, she aimed the farthest point in our trip at Devil’s Tower in Wyoming. More than anything else, she was visiting for the punchline.

“Mom! Mom! There’s a hot dog shop in Albuquerque, remember?” The hot dog shop was where Jesse went to meet men with face tattoos and trade business secrets. “It has outdoor seating and everything! Can we go there for dinner?”

“It can’t possibly be unpaved all the way to Idaho,” Mom decided, forgetting that the Witch didn’t follow her orders like the Wagon and I di

“It can’t possibly be unpaved all the way to Idaho,” Mom decided, forgetting that the Witch didn’t follow her orders like the Wagon and I di

“It must be a river,” Mom said in a sleepy voice. “This place is called Mad Gorge which means—"

“It must be a river,” Mom said in a sleepy voice. “This place is called Mad Gorge which means—"

The kaleidoscope of trees and moss fell into a pattern that made sense. “I’ve been here before!” I wagged.

We ran down the paved road with the shadows of branches on our heads and the smell of clouds in our noses. Ahead, on the other left , a dirt car-trail came to meet the road. Where they came together, a fan of dirty tire prints smeared the pavement, as if nature were trying to reclaim its territory. “Look! Mom! Another road, just like you said there’d be!” I ran ahead to show her the way. “And there are sticks!” Mom hurried to catch up. “Yes! I remember that log now. This is d

“I thought you said we couldn’t get lost!” I gasped. Suddenly, the mailman van felt very far away.

“When I was younger, I used to look at maps of logging roads and imagine what it would be like to explore all those paths to nowhere.”

I couldn't tell if it was nature or civilization calling her back, just that Mom was accepting the call.

There was something creepy about being so close to something so big.

Oscar sees many magical things in Monument Valley and meets one of his heroes

The car-house picked up speed as it rolled toward the blinding whiteness. As we zoomed in, the grid lines on the ground began to show.

"Sheesh, there's absolutely nothing here," Mom narrated. "There have got to be trails around here somewhere."

"Sheesh, there's absolutely nothing here," Mom narrated. "There have got to be trails around here somewhere."