All roads lead to new ideas
It was just before sunrise when I drove south out of Cody in the state of Wyoming in the US. I had slept badly–over many weeks–because I was not at peace with myself and felt lost spiritually after a big crisis in my life.
The prairie landscape reminded me of Namibia, especially that arrow-straight climb northwards from the Gariep en route to Grünau, where you will only encounter tumbleweeds and, here and there, a solitary springbok. In Wyoming, however, it was sagebrush and a solitary pronghorn.
There is something astral about travelling an unknown long road on your own: the cabin is like a cocoon around you, the landscape abstract.
A sign at a turn-off caught my eye: “Thermopolis–Hidden Paradise”. I turned off.
Halfway through a desolate valley, the road like a plumb line with its vanishing
