I have a new deal breaker when it comes to traveling companions...the frequent use of "I was gonna". This happened on a recent road trip on the first truely sunny days in the Intermountain West, wending south with a woman who wanted to see Idaho from my ex-forest ranger perspective. A lovely stay at a tucked away fly-to resort in the Bitteroot Valley the first night had us dropping into the part of my state I called home 25 years earlier, building fence and water troughs in the spectacular Sawtooth National Recreation Area. In a couple days on to Hemingway's Idaho: Sun Valley, the Topper House, and the Silver Creek Preserve.

"I was gonna be a forest ranger. I went  to college in outdoor rec."

"I was gonna travel, like you...until I got married. He said he wanted to travel."

" I was gonna write stories."

My response, "It's never too late." fell on deaf ears. The list of " I was gonnas" filled the cab. Even the dogs were getting weary of her tone of voice, sighing with each tired, staccato inflection.

I turned up The Allman Brothers, hoping Duane and the boys could cover up the never ending litany of regrets from a person dropping from "friend" to "aquiantance" with each utterance. This trip had taken on new importance since the unexpected death the week before of my oldest brother, a spirit who never uttered "I was gonna..." in his life. He just did. Took me to see the Allman Brothers when I was thirteen, wished he was in the passenger seat.singing along.

The woman phones, e-mails, wonders when I'll take her along on another adventure. All I say is ":I was gonna tell you...it's just me and the dogs for the rest of the summer."