Route 70

The sky opened up as I aimed the nose of the car west through Kansas. Topeka was now in the distance behind me, and the only view ahead was prairies stretched out to the edge of the earth. The sky was a vibrant blue and strips of remaining snow sporadically layered the rolling hills. Two lanes of open road resided in the vacant scene. The feeling was finally ascending through my body: I was heading west.

Route 70 cuts Kansas in half and then trails upward as it nears Colorado. The highway across is long, roughly 6 hours to floor across Kansas; though, the scenery is picturesque. I rolled by barren abandoned houses sitting by their lonesome, oil wells rocking back and forth, and hundreds of windmills dancing around.

As the sun fell to the horizon, a pallet of colors painted the wide sky. I pulled over on the shoulder to walk out and be in it. The prairies stretched to my right and a twirling cloud, hugging pink and blue colors, was displayed before me. The scene felt foreign to me, as I was surrounded in fresh beauty. Then, only minutes later, the sun dipped below, and the sky was dark.

I had driven 13 hours the previous day and was hoping to reach Denver by night, therefore, another 12 hours for this drive. Darkness set in completely, with that, I accelerated my pace from an efficient 65mph to a mad-rush 85mph. At this point, nothing stood out as my car hummed across desolate exits and tractor-trailers. Led Zeppelin hollered over the speakers, and suddenly it lowered, as if a text had been received. I glanced down at my phone, however, it was a message from Google Maps; it read: Welcome to Colorado. I made it.

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