Free On the Back Roads by Bill Graves Page A

Anaconda copper mine at Weed Heights. Anaconda left behind an open pit 650 feet deep and huge piles of dirt. An Arizona company is now processing that dirt, shipping out 40,000 pounds of pure copper a day.
    In the row of RV sites behind me, an old and rust-streaked Coupe de Ville cranked like a new one but did not start. Even from here, I could smell the gas. I walked up to the couple inside and offered my guess: “It’s flooded.”
    The man got out in a rage. Through white hair that covered his face like a string mop, I could see his red eyes, widewith anger. He slammed the driver’s door and kicked it. I was afraid that I would be next.
    â€œI know exactly what’s wrong! Total obliteration of dynamism. Absolute. Total.”
    â€œThat’s it, for sure. It’s nice that you know about cars,” I said, backing off.
    â€œAliens have controlled this planet for ages. They turn energy off and on, on and off.” His arms moved up and down like pump handles, synchronized with the rapid wrinkling and unwrinkling of his brow. “I have an appointment right now. That’s the reason. They don’t want me to get there. So the car will not start. No dynamism! It’s that simple! Later, you watch, it will start in a snap.”
    â€œI’m sure it will. You guys have a nice day, now.” I took a few more steps back.
    He pulled the hair away from his face. “I’ve seen what they do. Can’t see them, because they are on a different visual frequency than us. You should know, I mean you really should, they have no use for us men, but they inhabit women’s bodies. My last three wives, they tore ‘em up.” He turned away. “Got to go now!”
    He and his lady friend walked to a pickup truck. It cranked. It started. Off they went.
    â€œOh, good, that truck has dynamism,” I muttered, not too sure that someone, somewhere, wasn’t listening.

Part II
Northern California — Oregon Spring

17
Isolated by Its Hugeness
Mount Shasta, Northern California
    T he conical peaks of the Cascade Range run single file from northern California to ward the Canadian border, where Mount Baker pops up in Washington like a bookend. Mounts Shasta, Hood, Adams, St. Helens, and Rainier are the preeminent snow-covered pressure valves for the most volcanically active range in the continental United States.
    Headed north on U.S. 97 in California, I decided to pull off the road and have lunch where I found a clear view of Mt. Shasta. Fortunately, a thoughtful road builder had found just the spot and had built a wide shoulder there to park on. I stepped from my motor home, staring at a mountain so enormous it filled the landscape. It took some staring just to take it all in.
    Dining in the grand presence of Mt. Shasta, it seemed inappropriate somehow to be serving myself an unadorned ham sandwich with a glass of nonfat milk. I spread on a layer of Grey Poupon. That helped.
    Haloed by a wisp of cloud that streamed off northward, Mt. Shasta is isolated by its hugeness. That it towers to 14,162 feet seems less significant than the hundreds of squaremiles over which it spreads its soft yet jagged vestment of stark white. It dominates everything, even the sky.
    A few miles back, I walked the main street of Mt. Shasta City. At 3,561 feet, it rests at the foot of the mountain. Mt. Shasta’s peak, however, is a deceptive ten miles away and two miles up. It’s an orderly town of trendy shops, four-wheel drive vehicles, and comfortable mountain homes. Most have a healthy pile of firewood neatly stacked outside. And the ladies who shop there, even those in jeans and ski jackets, wear expensive perfume.

18
California’s “Highest” Town
Dorris, California
    U .S. 97 originates in Weed, California, about twenty miles from the Oregon border. After running through the midsections of Oregon and Washington, it becomes the Alaska Highway in the middle of British Columbia and