There is a lot to be said for the speed of flying. When time is short I prefer to reach a destination as soon as possible. And a flight from central Washington state to Los Angeles is a matter of hours. However circumstances made a flight impractical so I drove the 1200 miles instead in two days, loving every mile of rocky outcroppings, changing plants and signs of exploding civilization.

Sometimes driving amidst traffic in Los Angeles has to be considered flying. I expect to move smoothly and keep up. What I didn't expect is to butt horns, or rather, wheels with an unforgiving curb as I took a fast exit from 65mph traffic on the San Diego freeway. My trusty automobile took the leap in great stride - myself suffered a week of enflamed muscles that seized up like a vise with almost every move of my legs.

Now I spend careful hours rehabilitating my body, rebuilding muscles, and waiting until I can get back behind the wheel to 'fly' again.