បោះពុម្ពផ្សាយ: 06.03.2022
As I check out of my beautiful motel, I compliment Katherine at the reception for the great room. She is very happy. And she tells me that she has been to Germany a few times. Berlin, Nuremberg, and Munich were among her destinations. And how much she liked it. And especially that everyone could speak English. I tell her that it's thanks to the great English teachers. And I am one of them. She laughs. I hope she's not laughing at me.
In high spirits, I drive back onto Interstate 40 heading west, which offers breathtaking views here. At one point, you can see the horizon and the highway after a crater of at least 30 kilometers. I take a picture through the windshield, but it is certainly not worthy of the sight. In Grants, I leave Route 40 and initially head towards El Malpais National Monument, a landscape shaped by volcanic rock. Considering the size, I decide not to visit all the points, but after an hour, I head towards El Morro National Monument on Route 53.
Along the way, the larger bushes are gradually replaced by trees growing on the partially snow-covered grasslands. The road meanders through this magnificent nature and increasingly larger sandstone rocks become visible. Finally, after an hour, I reach El Morro, a fascinating sandstone cliff where over 2,000 people from various eras have immortalized themselves through engravings.
At the visitor center, I am greeted by Ranger John Kuehnert, who tells me that he used to live in Stuttgart for a while. I tell him that it's my hometown and ask him if he has eaten spaetzle since then. He laughs and says no, it's been 25 years. He gives me a guide for a trail that leads to this cliff and back to the center.
The path is a journey into the past. As early as the early 17th century, people immortalized themselves in the rocks there, testifying to the colonization of this region. Since I am almost always alone on the road, it is incredibly peaceful and quiet here. You can't even hear birds. It is touching to read the stories of the people who were here before. Sitting on a bench, I reflect on my journey, not only here in America but in the past years. I believe my father would have loved this place. Around me, there is only nature, and the views are vast and magnificent. So I linger on this bench for over an hour with tears streaming down my face. I think of my mother, who reads my reports, and the people back home who are all afraid of the war. I wish people would find places like this in their hearts.
Back at the visitor center, I say goodbye to John and thank him for his service here. It doesn't even cost admission. This place is free for everyone. A plaque here reads: "When all the rest of the Southwest has fallen to Progress, I pray that El Morro will stand inviolate as a sanctuary for those who seek peace and quiet on a clean earth. Lawrence Clark Powell, 1973." Peace and quiet. How true.
Actually, I want to take a longer drive, but I think it's enough for me today. Sometimes you have to stop searching. Sometimes you just find what you're looking for. And tomorrow is another day. And so I drive to my motel in Gallup, New Mexico, and today I am happy and a little sad at the same time.