The Northern Route

Washington State: As I drove away I couldn’t help but realize that I might never again see the painting-like scenery before me, and then behind me. I had viewed many states with tall pines lining the road, but in Newcastle, WA the trees, the road, the houses and condos were viewed through a gouache of sea foam green, caused, I am sure, by the misty rain that is, most days, a part of the permanent landscape. It is a scene that I do not believe I will see in any other state in our great nation.

I had just spent three nights with my amazing step-daughter, Christina. She and I spent a whole day with her cousin, sweet, sweet Emily. Emily is raising four boys, yes, four! And she remains as sweet as ever. When I started my journey four months ago, Emily’s father (Christina’s uncle, and my brother-in-law) was one of my first people stops. Christina and Emily were now my last. Bittersweet describes my feelings and the dreamy view of Newcastle was indeed an appropriate sendoff.

I am driving once more from West Coast to East Coast, probably for the last time, and I decided, this time, to drive the Northern Route. Hwy 90 seemed an excellent way to start my journey and so, off I (and JoJo, my dog and Maxwell, my car) headed forward.

The tip of Idaho was beautiful but I noticed the terrain was climbing steadily. I knew I would hit mountains but I was not prepared to do so as quickly as I did. High altitude is not something you can escape from in your airconditioned car and, with my mild asthma, I have been caught, more than once, a little breathless. I have always been aware of my 70-year-old (mild and controlled) hypertension but decided to move forward anyway as going back was not an option. Good thing I gave up my running career (when I was born).

Montana, I realized, is, from West to East, a very long state and equals Idaho’s altitude. But it is also wide open and earns its name, Big Sky. I passed through Crow Reservation land and then through Cheyenne Country. I was tempted to turn off and visit Little Big Horn but I have always felt that Custer was an idiot and now he is a dead idiot, mainly because he was an idiot. So, I just kept moving. No matter how much open land I passed, the sky appeared even bigger.

I entered the Northeast tip of Wyoming. Google said, “Welcome to Wyoming.” I swear I was driving through Wyoming for two minutes when Google said, “Welcome to South Dakota.” It may have been longer but after driving through Montana, Wyoming was a hop, skip and a jump, without the skip and the jump.

South Dakota is where I would make a serious turn South, Southeast and well on my way to North Carolina. No, I did not stop at Mt. Rushmore. Please do not send letters chastising me.

Just like my last journey back East, the weather has been kind to one little old lady (that would be me). The two thunderstorms up North have taken place at night when I am safely tucked away in my hotel room bed(s). It would have been something to witness such a storm across the Montana sky but I can watch an old western and get the gist. I’m good.

You may ask why I don’t have a bunch of pictures to share. The landscape is beautiful, and captivating, but pulling off to the side of the road is discouraged by the sheriffs, and the marshals, and the troopers. Sometimes I sneak my phone camera up and those are the pics you see. Google is good at telling me when the authorities are around but even Google might mess up and I don’t want to end up in the hoosegow. If the authorities are reading this, I was only kidding about using my camera while driving.

My sister, Kim, is having a road trip of her own. I have JoJo for company. She has elected to take her husband, Alan, along. Since they live in Europe, they hop in their car and head for the Rhineland, The Alps, Champagne country in France and…well, let’s just say they are hitting as many countries as I am U.S. states. Sigh. But that is okay. I feel good that, at age 70, I have seen well over half of the States and counting. I think I am at 27 now.

That is, of course, if you count two minutes in Wyoming.

#ontheroadagain