Four states in one day. Montana. Check. Idaho. Check. Washington. Check. Oregon. Check. For one with semi-agoraphobic tendencies, it was quite an accomplishment. Along with our marathon day came the good and the bad. The bad was certainly a triple bad. Triple digits that is. At one point our car thermometer registered 111 degrees. As we whizzed by stalled and abandoned vehicles one could not help but wonder who would be next in the roulette of misfortune.
The good was leaving the interstate system for most of the day. Not having to travel in wolf packs of campers, trucks and pickups with suspicious bedliners was a respite from the pulsating, gotta-get-there traffic of the past two days. Our route choice allowed us to stop at the beautiful Lolo Pass visitor's center, complete with free coffee, hot chocolate and rangers who were ready and willing to share their wealth of knowledge. We were inspired by the stories of Lewis and Clark and their travels through this area. Surely, we, too, could make it to our destination with the added bonus of a car, hotels and convenience stores.
Beautiful rivers held our hands throughout most of the day. First, the Snake River with its crystal clear waters, swirling eddies and an occasional tube rafter, desperately trying to escape the heat of the day and the next set of rapids. Next came the mighty Columbia River. It is easy to see why Lewis and Clark used this waterway as a welcome relief for their moccasin weary feet. The steep gorges and expansive, glittering water provided us with many calendar worthy visuals.
The lowest point of the trip happened at a Shell gas station about 90 miles from our final destination. I was beyond benout (Dutch, for crawling out of your skin). The temperature was still well over 100 degrees. Our air conditioner was having its own benout issues and to top it off, the air conditioner at the Shell station was not working at all. I think my dear, long-suffering husband was ready to put me out if there hadn't been a crowd of witnesses nearby. We sullenly crawled back into the car and chugged a few more miles down the road to another convenience store. Gloriously, its air conditioner was working to full capacity and it had french fries available for this addict. With renewed vigor, we gutted out the last leg of our journey.
Just as we pulled into our hotel parking lot, my husband spied a truly beautiful sight, a ramshackle little fruit stand across the street. At that moment we both felt the list of bads for the day start to melt away because nothing says welcome better to a couple of dog-spit tired South Dakotans than a stand of fresh cherries.
Hello Oregon.
Yaaaay! You're almost there! And hopefully you're not eating the entire bag of cherries....not because they're bad for you, but well...
ReplyDeleteThanks for the good advice. I've been pacing myself. My husband, on the other hand...that's another story.
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