Story and photographs by Kurt and Edwige Moses
(Imagine, if you will, Rod Serling’s voice as you read the following)
This is an account of two people, two nomadic travelers with an adventurous spirit. A spirit that drives them to serve others in an attempt to be good stewards of this earth. But this is not just a Sunday drive for Kurt and Edwige, they perhaps do not know it at the time but they are wandering into a world of isolation, disinclination and fear. A world incapacitated by a virus, highly contagious and sometimes deadly. A sickness without a known cure. But the antidote won't be found in science, it is found in the human spirit: nine states and twelve days into the COVID Zone. (End of Rod Serling’s voice)
As fans of the old Twilight Zone TV series (1959 to 1964) we can’t help but notice some of those episodes are eerily similar to our current condition. For the record, we do not intend to make light of the pandemic or judge people’s reactions to it. Rather, we will give our observations and firsthand accounts of what we encounter as we travel over two thousand miles, mostly on rural roads and small highways from Death Valley, California to Minneapolis, Minnesota. As we pass through the smaller towns it's as if we have stepped back in time, with a twist. Suddenly, the world has become a science-fiction movie. Gas prices are equal to what they were twenty years ago, yet there are fewer cars on the roads. Sidewalks are void of people; businesses are closed and when we do encounter other humans, most are wearing medical-grade or homemade face masks. While camping on remote, public lands we hear random gunfire in the distance, as if there were a battle for survival taking place.
Entering Utah near the town of St. George, a large digital sign instructs travelers to go to a website where they are required to register their name, date of birth, home address, phone number, email, how many people are in their group and if they have experienced any of the COVID19 symptoms. Iconic Monument Valley in the territory of the Navajo Nation is closed until further notice. On Route 98, a lonely stretch of Arizona road, Navajo residents painted a beautiful sign reminding travelers to “Stay Home and Stay Safe”.
Just outside of Monument Valley is the town of Kayenta. We stop in a parking lot and open the galley door to make ourselves lunch. A Navajo man named Ray approaches us; he is hungry and asks for money. We have no money to give to him but offer to make him a sandwich (BBQ tuna, hickory smoked cheddar and mayonnaise on country white bread). Ray is interested to hear Edwige speak her native language, French. Ray responds in Navajo. In Colorado Springs, Colorado, we stop to fill up our Jeep’s tank; the price of gasoline is $1.23 per gallon. In the town of Sterling, most people seem undaunted by the pandemic as the town is bustling with people and car traffic. A pickup truck with a very large Confederate flag mounted to its tailgate speeds past us making us wonder if in an alternate reality, the North lost the war in 1865. As we exit Sterling, we stop to photograph a chained gorilla statue with a face mask.
In the town of Bridgeport, Nebraska we stop to eat lunch next to a small neighborhood park. Although the park is open, the children’s playground equipment is fenced off. For the hour or so we are there, we do not see another person.
In Wall, South Dakota, we are denied entry to a grocery store because we look like “out-of-towners”. The store clerk offers to gather some groceries for us and deliver them to our car but we politely decline because without knowing which brands they carry, we can’t articulate exactly the type of smoked, cheddar cheese we want.
Leaving Badlands National Park we head towards Minnesota, escaping the unknown. We have the sense that we are returning to safety, something familiar. But as we plan our return “home”, we learn that our mother has been warned of our impending arrival. She has been cautioned by family and friends to keep her distance from us as they suspect we may be potential carriers of the virus. For the record, it is likely that we contracted COVID19 in mid-February (and recovered) while volunteering at Death Valley Junction in the Mojave Desert. The Junction gets a lot of international visitors and not long after an anniversary event, we fell ill with fever, muscle weakness, delirium, dehydration and a dry cough. From what we understand, these are considered the mild systems of COVID19. The current situation can be surreal and sometimes bizarre but as Rod Serling put it, “For civilization to survive, the human race has to remain civilized”.
