It was The Nothing, just like in the NeverEnding Story — just a wall of gray. We had driven 22 hours to see The Nothing. Were we disappointed? Yes. Did we make the best of it? Also, yes. The trip, to us, ultimately wasn’t about seeing a really big ditch. It was about sitting in a car together for hours on end listening to an audiobook about the Alamo, eating garbage, and seeing what we could see, which on that day, the first day of the new year, was: nothing. 

Oh, wait. We did see an elk. It was about five feet away from us, and it did not care that we were there. We were in his space, and we could just get off his lawn already. 

So on the way back to our hotel in the rain, I bought her a Grand-Canyon sized ice cream cone at a gas station. That was after we drove straight through a McDonald’s drive-through without ordering when I had an aneurysm over the prices. Everyone has a limit on what they’re willing to pay for a Happy Meal, even on days of great disappointment, and this surpassed my limit by three times as much.  

We decided to have lunch and shop in downtown Flagstaff, where we also saw the famous pinecone still hanging from its suspension off of the Weatherford Hotel. Apparently, the pinecone drop is ranked 5th in the states for the best…drop of a thing…on New Year’s Eve. So maybe we missed out, but we have no regrets. Well, Fabi still regretted stepping in that puddle, but this wasn’t stopping us from shopping in quaint bookstores, knick-knack shops, and candy stores. We stopped for ramen and to warm our bones, and we played the game where we sit at a window, watch people, and wait to see the things we declared worthy of points — a dog, a green hat, a ridiculously large purse, a skateboard, a long puffy coat. I don’t know who won that time, but it’s usually Fabi. 

We bought a comic book about a shark, because Fabi once made a comic book about a shark. Then we were happy that our car was still where we parked it, because you never know when you are parking in a strange town if it will be there when you get back. There’s always that feeling of “oh, yay, good — there you are, car — I’m so glad that you’re still right where I need you to be” when you return after parking it in the street. The next morning that feeling of relief would be even greater when I returned to it after leaving it somewhere even sketchier.