Home. I’m embarrassed to admit it, but when I turned onto the road to my house, I wept, I really did. “Home,” I said, “home,” and blew my nose. Who knew?

I came back with an aching back and bronchitis, but I’m not sorry I went. I’m glad I got to see Santa Fe and Taos and Manitou Springs. America is vast and beautiful. You have to drive across it and see it at ground level to realize that.

So what have we learned? It is good to get away by yourself sometimes. I would travel alone again but I’d fly next time. I am simply too old and achy now to drive across country without someone to spot me on the driving. And navigate.

Living out of your car and hotel rooms gets old rather quickly. It isn’t normal. It’s discombobulating.

You don’t need fifteen books for a two-week trip. Thirty bottles of water is about right though.

There is road construction going on in every state in this country. For sheer number of projects and inconvenience though, Minnesota gets a big gold star. Why, I wonder, do they close the freeway down to one lane for five miles in either direction of the small area where they are actually working. Perhaps I will write Amy Klobuchar, and she can get to the bottom of it.

But did I find enlightenment? Yes, I think I had a couple of enlightening moments. I’m not going to go into the details, but I will say that enlightenment lies somewhere between your idea of what it should be and what you get. And I remembered things I know very well but tend to forget.

What I have is immeasurable. I have three daughters who are loving, compassionate and fun to be with. I have three sons-in-law who are kind, honest men. I have six grandchildren who are a joy in more ways than I can name. I have amazing friends, good people who persevere in life and keep trying to do what’s right. And all these people put up with me – my laziness, forgetfulness, impatience and weird sense of humor. I have done nothing to deserve all this, but there you are. It is good to go alone into the desert once in a while. It wakes you right up.

Day 10: Manitou Springs, Colorado, is a little resort town with plenty of souvenir shops and not much else. It is, however, just minutes from the Garden of the Gods, and that is everything. I did a little hiking through the amazing sandstone rock formations, but mostly just drove the loopy roads through the park, pulling off now and then to take photos that can never do justice to the real thing. It was busy in the garden – I can’t imagine what it’s like mid-summer – and how is it that all the tourists except you are so annoying?

Well, I am just hobbling around now. Pulled the heating pad out of the trunk last night for my back. Also, no one told me that the mountain air can cause severe nasal congestion. I was going to take the train up to the top of Pikes Peak today, but I’m afraid my head will explode at 14,000 feet. So instead, I think I will start moving in the direction of home. I am looking forward to kissing the grandkids and sitting on the porch with a good book, thinking about all the yard work I should be doing. Travel is good – it grows your knowledge and broadens your horizons. Home is good too.

Day 8: This Target store behind my hotel is the first I’ve seen in New Mexico. For some reason, they don’t have one on every corner here. Weird. I went in to pick up some sundries and guess what? Inside it’s just like every Target store everywhere. Found the aisle with Up & Up sinus medicine with no trouble. It almost brought tears to my eyes.

Other than that, my shopping day was kind of a bust. Got six postcards and sent them off to the grandkids, and I hope they all arrive on the same day or I will hear about it. I read on the Internet this morning that some couple in Illinois just had their 100th grandchild. I’ll bet they don’t bother to send postcards anymore.

Driving to Manitou Springs, Colorado today, about a five-hour trip. I hear there’s shopping there.

Day 7: I drove up into the canyons around Santa Fe yesterday, where you see the kind of scenery found on postcards. I wanted to see the Pueblo cliff dwellings in Bandelier National Park. Turns out you can’t drive your car into the park in the middle of the day, but a 25-minute shuttle ride will take you up there. I don’t care for buses, to say nothing of one straining to make it up and down a mountain. Took a Dramamine, got on the bus.

The shuttle drops you off at a visitor’s center, and from there you have to walk up about a mile to the site. The dwellings are caves cut out of the volcanic rock about a thousand years ago. You can climb up wooden ladders and look inside. I hate heights. I climbed the ladders. There weren’t a lot of other people up there, so it was a little lonely, but peaceful and quite moving.

I decided to take the nature trail coming back down, which is a little longer hike and there are numerous signs reminding you to “Stay On The Path.” Like I’d leave the path. Rounded a curve and startled a snake lying in my way. I think it was just a garter snake, as I have seen them in my basement. Normally I might have let out a little scream, but he slithered away pretty quickly. Also, I was under the influence of Dramamine.

Then I ran across this deer, who was chewing something and showed no interest in me at all. At least I think it was a deer. Why does it have such long ears?

I was happy to see the visitors’ center again, although I’m really glad I went to see the cliff dwellings. Drove back down into Santa Fe, got a little lost. I fear I am slowly becoming the weary traveler. Perhaps a day of shopping will help?

Day 6: Okay, I know it’s really Day 7, but Day 6 wore me out. It was my favorite day so far though. Spent most of it on Museum Hill, where you will find the International Museum of Folk Art. Really you should just get in the car and go there right now. The Girard Collection is unbelievable; had to go through twice to absorb it all. The Between Two Worlds Collection will make you weep.

Walked across the plaza to the Museum of Indian Arts & Culture, where the current exhibit in the sculpture garden, “Courage & Compassion,” may be the closest I come to enlightenment on this trip. All of the pieces are made by Native American women artists. When you go into the museum, the first thing you notice is how much the Indians honored the mother and the sacredness of Mother Earth. Gotta love that.

I was going to go to the Botanical Gardens, but it was sprinkling by then, so I went to the Museum of Spanish Colonial Art instead. Not many people left by that time. The man who took my money said the docent had left for the day so maybe he should show me around. Mike Gonzalez, retired volunteer, easy to look at (gray hair, neat beard). This seemed like a good idea to me. Of course, he was very knowledgeable about which pieces came from Mexico, Peru, Columbia, etc. – and that’s the important thing, right?

Came back to the hotel, spent a half hour in the hot tub. Thought about blogging, but then I started reading a book instead. (I brought along fifteen books and nine audiobooks on this trip, which made sense to me at the time.)

Went to get something out of the car this morning and saw a black dog playing in the yard adjacent to the hotel. I think this means I am supposed to go into the lands outside of Santa Fe. (Pretty sure Georgia O’Keeffe had a black dog.) So that is where I’m going.