Dare I drive the old road? Dismissed by a superhighway, this stretch of pavement beckons for diesel vibrations and the familiar feel of rubber. Brittle and crumbling, its most persistent passengers move up through the cracks, wave at the sun, wait for rain. Over and over my mind plays David Byrne’s “We’re on the road to nowhere…” until Robert Frost breaks the trance with a bulletin:

“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”