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Aug. 15th, 2006 09:39 pmA long ribbon of asphalt stands forlorn in the middle of nothing, ending as abruptly as it begins. Carefully graded, paved, and marked as a highway, yet with no entrance or egress. For just over a mile, it runs straight and level — the ground around it obviously reshaped to gracefully accept a created gash with a kind of organic elegance.
What purpose does it serve? None that I know of. There can be no purpose. A two-day overland hike is required to reach it, and there are no habitations near. Also missing is any clue to its creation; there are no traces as must be left by the kind of equipment needed to clear the land, to excavate the ditch, to lay the stone bed, the concrete, the asphalt, to roll it down, to grade it, to mark it. Once past the landscaped mounds, an oak forest closes in, all of them obviously decades old, with no large breaks such as would allow for the importation of road-working equipment.
It lies there, it the middle of the forest, a few hills away from the lake I camped at that night. I don't know how it got there, why it was put there, or who put it there. But I remember the feeling of standing there, vaguely creepy, on a road which cannot exist. I suppose that that feeling is reason enough for the universe, although humanity may require other explanations.
What purpose does it serve? None that I know of. There can be no purpose. A two-day overland hike is required to reach it, and there are no habitations near. Also missing is any clue to its creation; there are no traces as must be left by the kind of equipment needed to clear the land, to excavate the ditch, to lay the stone bed, the concrete, the asphalt, to roll it down, to grade it, to mark it. Once past the landscaped mounds, an oak forest closes in, all of them obviously decades old, with no large breaks such as would allow for the importation of road-working equipment.
It lies there, it the middle of the forest, a few hills away from the lake I camped at that night. I don't know how it got there, why it was put there, or who put it there. But I remember the feeling of standing there, vaguely creepy, on a road which cannot exist. I suppose that that feeling is reason enough for the universe, although humanity may require other explanations.
