Heading Out West

I like to start a road trip by pointing in a westerly direction.

I know that somewhere out there are big mountains with snow on them year 'round. There will be rushing streams, quiet pastures, a zillion flowers -- each one different. Sunny skies, dark skies, clouds of all shapes and sizes. Cool breezes, warm winds, thunder claps and lighting strikes. I'll catch glimpses of wild animals, maybe even a bear or two.

I'll have left behind traffic jams, crazy drivers and the anthill of humanity. Do I know where I'm going? Not exactly. West, that's about it.