While traveling with my jogging stroller in 2013, I noticed a feeling. I didn’t understand the feeling, at first. It was new to me. It was a relaxing feeling, ah, but with a sprinkle of sadness. I experienced it many times, mostly on very unused sections of Route 66.
I later gave it a name. I called it “Peace”
Why the sadness, I wondered? I don’t know. Maybe because I wish I could have experienced the same feelings with someone. Could it be the same though? You know, if someone else was there.
Anyway, I have experienced some of that feeling here, near Roberta, Georgia.
I have read where Highway 80 was commissioned as a cross country highway in 1926. I saw firsthand the beginning of it, at Tybee Island, Georgia.
"my other end is in San Diego"
I read that some folks feel the history of Highway 80 is second only to that of Route 66.
Those feelings on Route 66, were some of the best I have experienced. Here in Roberta, sits an old style motel, not unlike the ones common on Route 66. It’s in great shape and is currently in operation.
In an ironic twist, mom and her husband moved to Roberta in late 2014. Their home is less than 1/3 of a mile from U.S.Highway 80. I am with mom now. Her husband passed away.
I can now, at almost anytime walk to 80, turn west and go a mile or so, and stop. If things are just right, sometimes I feel that peace.
Even though 80 has been decommissioned past Dallas, Texas, it’s still out there somewhere. I know it is. It makes a difference knowing it goes from ocean to ocean. I don’t know why it makes a difference, but it does.