Part 15: “It’s all over!”

I met a traveler from an antique land,
Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal, these words appear:
My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

As we make the last long grueling drive to finish our trip you can look around the K2R2 and see the signs of a trip well spent. Scattered about the van are pieces of snack foods and shreds of their wrappers, clandestine collected rocks, precious gifts and souvenirs, maps and brochures of the many sites visited, at least a half dozen pairs of Bill’s shoes, and three weary travelers ready to be home!