Mile Marker 70

A Rest Stop Along the Way

A quiet stop between miles.

Finding Comfort in Life’s Necessary Pauses

“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer’s day, listening to the murmur of water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.”

- John Lubbock

I remember a time, and it wasn’t that long ago, when traveling meant slowing down. Before the Interstate System and before four - and five - lane highways straightened everything out for speed, there were travel plazas and small diners that broke up the miles.

Can you remember those bright orange roofs or hand-painted signs promising fried clams, root beer, and clean restrooms?

Howard Johnson’s. A&W Drive-Ins. Carhops hanging trays on half-open windows. Shady roadside parks with picnic tables where you’d unwrap sandwiches from wax paper and stretch your legs beneath giant shade trees.

There was a rhythm to the road then, a pattern where pausing was as important as moving forward. It made the journey feel more human.

Stops like those were more than just rest. They were places of comfort, small oases that proved someone had thought about your needs before you ever arrived.

A cup of coffee. A postcard. A piece of pie under a heat lamp. They all said the same thing: Hey, you’ve been traveling a while. Sit for a moment. You’re safe here.

I’m thinking about my own kind of rest stop now. This one isn’t along a highway, but along this road called life. It’s a planned pause, a needed stretch where the body asks for care before continuing with the miles still ahead. A week or two, perhaps a little more. A time to step back, refuel, and recover. Those miles up ahead? They’ll still be there when I return.

The truth is, life is a journey, and each of us is a traveler. We all need a pause now and then. Sometimes we don’t get to choose when it comes. But I’ve learned that even the unplanned stops can become meaningful. We can use that time to fill up on patience and prepare for another round of purpose.

In a way, it’s like those old roadside diners. There’s a quiet hospitality in rest itself. It gives the body and the mind a chance to catch up. Let me mend here for a bit.

Even in Europe, I’ve found travel plazas filled with espresso machines, fresh bread, and small gifts I didn’t need but couldn’t resist. Our memories have a tank to fill too, and those places reminded me of what rest stops back home felt like when I was growing up.

All of them were little worlds between destinations. The feeling? Always the same, a brief pause that nourishes.

And that’s what this stretch ahead is for me, a pause that nourishes. A chance to sit under the canopy life gives us and let the engine cool for a while.

When I return, I’ll pick up right where I left off, refreshed, refocused, and carrying a few new stories from the quiet side of the highway.

Until then, I’ll think of this as a rest stop, not a detour, not an ending. Just a small, well-earned pause along the way.

Talk soon…

G