A Waste of Time

   I recently returned from New Mexico where I had volunteered for a job at the Gila Wilderness. The job did not work out so I came home. Some friends have told me that they are sorry that I wasted my time going all that distance.
   It was bitter cold in Deming, New Mexico where I stopped for gas and coffee. An old guy came walking by. His had a pack and layers of cheap sweaters and jackets. A little dog followed him. I asked him if he could use a five and he told me about being used to the cold and how he had his dog for twelve years, far longer than any of his three wives. He explained that his dog was a wild dog, as evidenced by a total lack of dew claws. He said goodbye, God blessing me with a grimy handshake.
   The weather worsened as I went north toward higher country and finally came to a hill that I could not climb with my two wheel drive. I backed to a place where I could turn around and drove back to a lodge that was closed for the season. I could hear talking and laughing so I knocked and asked if I could get a room. They opened a room for me, even though they were closed.
   A guy was playing guitar in the dining room so I asked to join him. We played for a couple of hours as I joined a reunion of friends and family of the lodge owners. They invited me to their family New Years Eve Party that night. The family and nearby friends, mostly aging hippies made me welcome. Three of us played guitar and I danced with the young ladies. Firewords, menudo, and a lot of laughter. The next day the road cleared enough to go to the Wilderness.
   Two days later I was on the road home. Not one regret.