Tom Ryan, Author

Early yesterday afternoon, we descended the winding road between the dramatic walls of the Virgin River Gorge as we passed through that tiny corner of Arizona on the way to Nevada, the Mojave National Preserve, and ultimately Yucca Valley, California. Samwise was sitting in the middle of the backseat, which he’s taken to doing since we’ve had the HMS Beagle. He watches the road intently, without offering the distraction of most backseat drivers.

Good morning. It’s a big day for us; a travel day. We have not had one of these in five weeks, but there will be a slew of them over the next 50 days. I’ve tried to encapsulate this coddiwomple into chapters. Our 35 days in Kanab were Chapter 4. This morning, as soon as we step off the trails here, Chapter 5 commences. It is the first of the 9 remaining coddiwomple chapters. I’ll leave where we are headed as a surprise, at least for now.

How much are we chomping at the bit to finish packing and flying off toward the horizon? One of my favorite Anaïs Nin quotes is “I’m restless. Things are calling me away. My hair is being pulled by the stars again.” My stubbled dome tells you just how hard the stars have been tugging! (Someday I will tell you about that scar on the left side of my head. It’s a good hiking story.)

Let’s try this again. These Postcards from the Open Road were sent out this morning, but the comment section was so strange, I pulled the plug. For everyone who mentioned the grandeur of the views, three people posted a response having nothing to do with the photos, the video, or anything else to do with the post. So here goes a re-do, with the comments shut off. Note: Some of you may have seen the video on Instagram (@tomsamemi).

Note: Some of you may have seen the video on Instagram (@tomsamemi). It was the rare video that appeared on Instagram before being posted here, but I wanted to get that page up and running. Instagram will allow me to share items that wouldn't make it here, and I’m enjoying it so far. We have so many photos from our trips that Instagram serves as a suitable appetizer to the main course. Good morning. I’m sending this out right before we hit the trail.

“Leave the door open for the unknown, the door into the dark. That’s where the most important things come from, where you yourself came from, and where you will go.” ― Rebecca Solnit, A Field Guide to Getting Lost We are such an independently quiet trio that when noise intrudes, we retreat, recalculate, and—eventually—reemerge. We go from sailing along, far from home, feeling free and light, but always eventually tripped up.

The road to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon from just beyond the North Rim Country Store. When my father was young, preparing to go off to war, he went on a double date with his best friend and two young women they barely knew. It was a sit-down affair at a posh (for them) restaurant. Jack Ryan and Jack Glennon were intent on showing their dates a fancy time. Things were going okay, but not great, right up until the two gals retreated to the powder room.

This is a two-piece letter. First, there is the video above, which shows one of our daily stops. In all the years we’ve visited (since 2019), we’ve never encountered another there. But we have sat there in the cooler evenings of February to listen to coyotes sing. It is our holy spot, a place where we know the ancient junipers and have given many names. The second part explains what we’ve been up to as I sought to be alone.

Greetings, y‘all. Some new happenings around here. I’ve taken two days off and will take another one or two off before returning to writing on Substack. But here’s a news snippet. We have returned to Instagram after being away for several years. The new account is here: The Instagram account will not take away from the Substack letters. If anything, the account will enhance our Substack posts. What it does do is replace Substack Notes.

Good morning. This is Carlos. He’s brought to you by Cape Cod reader Doug Munro, who is one of the longtime pen friends we’ve yet to meet—properly anyway. Doug has read my books and posts for years, and he’s one of the reasons we moved to the Cape. He’s long been supportive and goes above and beyond, just before we leave home each trip. While we’ve met at a book event, I’m embarrassed to confess that I don’t recall that meeting, because I recall most.