Stepping Gravel... Where's the dust?

Beep.. Buzz... Boom...  AHHHHHHHHHH!!!! So much noise and such little time to think!!! I'm starting to believe that I'm going stir crazy without my car.  Granted, I came back from my trip two weeks ago, I'm still craving the open road.  To some, peace comes in the form of an airplane flying from point to point, or a train ride from one stop to another.  Traveling wise, peace comes to me in a car.  I roll down the windows, play whatever music I want and head off into the sunset.  Usually when I grab rubber, I really have no real end destination.  The joys of cars right? 

People ask me all the time why I hate flying; but when you compare the options you have in a car against the few you have in a plane, is there really a need for me to explain?  Most of the time, I can pass the hours, music off and hand waving through the moving wind coming through my window.  That to me is peace.  What's been so difficult about not having a car for so many blocks of weeks or months, is that in Atlanta, you really can't walk anywhere with the sense of achieving anything.  You walk a few miles and you see more buildings... Or a parking deck... Or a gas station.  The city is so spread out without adequate public transit, that walking is almost pointless, unless you decide to travel within your neighborhood area.  Yet, the city with all of its flaws, still has this mysterious charm about it that makes you miss it when you're gone.  I wish that I could tell you what it is, but even today, it still evades me.

But this is all beside the point... I'm just craving the open road.  I've been asked alot as to what I find so appealing in nature and just smaller towns in general; for one, less noise.  When camping, nature provides you her own soundtrack which usually helps me sleep so many countless hours.  The beauty I see in smaller towns is the pure simplicity of life; I'm sure such simplicity for some could be extremely boring, yet as for myself, every so often those towns do the trick. 

Sometimes I feel that I write with no real point, as if my road trips that I so yearn for, come out like my writings: no end came... no destination.  Tonight there is no real destination in my head, just my thoughts all racing around on an open highway leading me who knows where.