Arriving home

The security guard at the Vancouver airport stared down at my purple plastic tub full of camping gear and ordered me to strip the tape off. Tape I had spent 20 minutes applying back at Michael's place. But the woman was adamant. My tub could contain -- horror of horrors -- a camping stove. So, I complied without complaint.

As she made me unravel the mouldy towels, the utensil bag, the camping pots and the binoculars, I couldn't help but reflect on our trip.

I think it's the "now-ness" of vacations that make them so restorative. There you are, traveling through a foreign land, marveling at the differences, awed by the sites. There's no time to worry about what your neighbour thinks of you, the deadline you might miss at work, all those 'to-do's on your list of 'to do' lists.

When placed in a different place with so much to discover, it's hard not to live in the now. Very zen. I began to wonder why I can't live here more often. Why, when traveling to work on the Queen car or eyeing the eggplants at the grocery store, I can't let all that stuff go? Isn't the world around us a wonderful place? I become complacent. The trees seem to disappear as if they didn't exist, or are replaced by the honking of horns and glares of angry TTC riders.

But why?

After the inspection and re-taping of my purple tub, Cathe and I survived the red-eye, 4-hour plane ride. My cats were still alive (and thriving, actually).

I feel lucky to have the entire weekend to myself. I don't want to go out of town for at least another month.

As I roast a chicken on my barbecue on a Saturday night, this blog comes to an end.

Thanks to all of you (for there seem to be quite a few) for coming along for the ride. It's been a slice.

Sleepy in Victoria

I noticed some people are still checking the blog to see what we've been up to. Well, not much.

It seems we arrived and then just collapsed. Our most ambitious ventures of the day have been naps. I pick up my book, then after two pages shut my eyes and before I know it, an hour has passed. I go out on the porch, sit down to enjoy the sunshine and the sounds of wind in the trees and shake awake a little while later.

These naps are like little candy morsels, gentle and soothing, just a bit sweet. They feel natural and necessary. It is as if I am catching my breath. True rest. What a wonderful thing.

On Monday I took the car in for a car wash. It got brushed with three different colours of foam both on top and underneath. I vacuumed it out and spritzed it with lavender. You'd never know it had been on a cross-country journey.

Yesterday, we took nephew Marlo out for lunch at a place called "Pig." Yes, just "Pig." This restaurant features southern bbq, served directly on trays with coleslaw and a sauce that can't be beat. Then we had a lovely steak dinner with my famous tomato salad and corn on the cob.

Today, I am struggling to get Dad and Cath to go to the Museum. They seem to be leaning toward watching the tennis.

Tomorrow, Cathe and I will be leaving for the airport. Dad is still not sure of his plans. But, as you can see... there is not much to write about naps.

Thoughts on the last day of our drive

DAY 8 - SEATTLE TO VICTORIA B.C.
Was it the sea air or the lower temperatures that allowed us to sleep so well in Bellevue (Seattle)?

After a lazy start, we made our way into downtown Seattle. We found our way to the needle, decided to take the Monorail to downtown, as it was cheaper than going up the hallowed tower. Downtown, we toured some shops, then went back to the Needle, where we had a lovely lunch at the Bee Cafe.

The highways of Seattle reminded us of those around Toronto; crazy busy, and rather repetitive.

As it was Sunday, one of the Duty Free shops at the border was closed. But a small one was open and we managed to get a couple bottles. At the border, the border guard wore plastic gloves and thumbed our passports. A few questions later, we were on our way.

Not long after, I thought I was going into an HOV lane, turned out we were taking a wrong turn on the highway. We went 4 km in one direction (including a trip under the bridge), turned around and came back.

If there's one thing B.C. knows how to do, it's ferries. They know how to line up the cars in a precise sequence. Get over 200 cars/trucks on and off a ferry in under 7 minutes. Once on the ferry, they offer Starbucks coffee, expensive raingear, and a view that can't be found anywhere but here, with Orcas in the water, snow-capped mountains in the background, salty air blowing in your face, and a group of people on the boat from all over Canada and the world interested in being there right in that moment.

7.30pm we arrived at Michael's home. Jenn had prepared a lovely Sunday roast beef dinner with potatoes, onions, carrots and gravy (including the ever-important horseradish). We enjoyed the meal out in the back yard with wine and the most amazing sky. What a lovely way to be welcomed.

REFLECTIONS ON OUR TRIP:
There is no way, not matter how hard you try, to keep a car organized when three people are traveling so far for so long. You just have to accept the mess. Except when it comes to the trunk! There is a science to packing the trunk that must be adhered to and only one individual can do this. Every day.

A bag of tangerines make great car snacking food. Dried apricots are preferable to dates.

Car camping requires a lot of gear, most of which you do not need. But you cannot know what you will and will not need until you get out there on the road.

White peaks and river valleys

DAY 7 - MISSOULA TO BELLEVUE, WA (a suburb of Seattle)
A sign at the the Missoula Grocery Store said, "Shingles Shots Available at the Pharmacy," so this morning we dropped into the Grocery Pharmacy to see if they would give Dad his much-overdue allergy shot.

The RN at the Pharmacy listened to us and confessed that she couldn't give us the shot, as she was only permitted to give the Pharmacy's shots. We told her how the clinics we've dropped into have insisted on a medical history, doctor approval, or we would end up in Emergency and become bottom of the triage list (if such a list even exists).

The lady offered to call some local drop-in centers where she thought we could get the shot. None of them panned out. Then she offered, "Well, I can show you how to do it, if you like."

She showed me and Cathe how to measure where to place the shot, how to pinch the skin. She looked at the description of the shot and decided what type of technique we should use. She even gave us some alcohol wipes and a smaller needle - at no cost!

We went to the coffee shop, ordered a coffee, and sat down. We decided Colleen should give the shot, as she's received more of them over the years. Cathe swabbed the location, Colleen stabbed and pushed....

Dad didn't die!

We got into our drive and decided to stop in Alberton as it had a sizeable bookstore. A used bookstore in an old General Store, it was stuffed with bookshelves on two levels, featuring more than 100,000 books. We bought a couple audio books and after took a good look at the Trax Bar, next door, with an outdoor bar and a TP patio. (See photo).

We travelled through some harry mountain passes with some steep climbs and steep descends, with white-capped mountain tops all around. Then, it was as though we arrived back in the prairies. We saw three combines cutting wheat on rolling golden acres with trucks waiting for the grain by the side of the road.

Then, for the first time since our trip began, we got bored with the passing scenery. For a short time anyway.

After leaving Moses Lake, the scenery became engaging once again. More than engaging. Enthralling. With vast mountain peaks and valleys surrounding us in every direction.

We arrived in this Seattle suburb (Bellevue) at a Days Inn with a Chinese restaurant right beside it, and we knew we had found our spot for the night.

Tomorrow, some time in Seattle and a four hour drive (pending ferry travel times) to Michael's.

Fave signs of the day:
* In Missoula, a store: "Every Mother's Nightmare Tattoos"
* Road sign: "Nine Mile Road, 1 mile"
* Road sign: "Apple maggot quarantine area."
* Road sign: "Accident ahead! Right lane closed." > a few minutes later we passed a watermelon truck being emptied of its products.
* Road sign: "Litter and it will hurt!"

Entering the mountains

DAY 6 - SHERIDAN TO MISSOULA, MT
Missoula, Montana is one rockin' small town! Small victorian grid of streets with buildings to match, mountains all around, a college to provide the students which creates these small cool bars and shops. We drove into town around 7.30, ordered pizza in the hotel and sat out on the balcony of our hotel.

We learned quite a few things in the space of a small amount of time. The air of Missoula is sweet and lovely. The view outside our hotel is stunning no matter what direction you look. The pizza of Missoula sucks (at least the one we ordered did). After pizza, Colleen went out for a walk and ended up at the very cool (and very crowded) Rhinoceros bar for a wee pint. Tres cool.

Our drive today began around 10 with straight forward highway driving. We entered Crow territory, had Kentucky Fried Chicken next to the site where Custer had his last stand, and drove and drove through more mole mountains. Then we entered the foot hills.

Now the bald, grass-covered bumps, that looked as if they were covered by velvet, were across from great expanses of rocks covered in trees. We would enter a mountain pass, with the rock walls closing off the wide open sky; it was like being sucked into something, having that sky closed off.

Then we would turn a corner, roll down a twisty hill, that would open into another river valley. A corner turned, another mountain valley, with grey slate smooth rocks on one side, red, slivers of rock -- slivers as large or larger than the car; like plates stacked on top of each other and perched sideways -- on the other.

And this is just the beginning of the mountains.

No fave signs for today. And we had to struggle for a great amount of time with my iPod to only find out that the carTalk shows I downloaded were not at the right quality and we could not hear. So, here we go again.

I must admit that, at times when I look at the photos I've taken from the car I look at them and say to myself, 'What the heck did I see here?' Oh, well. Part of the process, I suppose.

Harleys and Presidents

DAY 5 - RAPID CITY TO SHERIDAN, WYOMING
It was hard not to notice the great number of motorcycles we were running into. First, we saw them on the road. During the big thunderstorms they would wait under bridges. At the campsite, every site had at least one Harley. Harleys were coming out of RVs, trailers, driven, their deafening hum was all around us. Very few of them ever wore helmets, unless it was raining, of course. Because we all know how dangerous rain can be!

We got off to a late start of 11 am after taking some time to get organized and have a pancake breakfast down at the Koa covered patio. The flatlands of the prairies turned to steep mountains covered in red pines.

At Mt. Rushmore just about every other couple wore biker gear. You know, the denim or leather jacket, the big buckles, head bands.

We had ice cream cones for lunch (they cost $4 and were quite huge), then got on our way. In an attempt to take a scenic route, we took a wrong turn in Keystone onto ye olde Mt. Rushmore "highway." That is, a road barely big enough for one vehicle, let alone two, full of hairpin turns and no shoulders. Behind us, three motorcycle riders who wanted to ride the wind!

We turned the corner, arriving in Hill City, and Cathe gasped, saying, "Oh my gosh, I think we just arrived in hell."

The main street of this quaint, mountain town, was lined with parked Harleys from one end to another, and more were arriving.

We found our scenic route and remembered along the way that scenic also typically means "long" and "lots of road construction."

The landscape returned to prairies, but with goose bumps of green hills dotted with a blue-ish moss. They rose up all around us, barely a tree in site.

After arriving back at the I90, the rockies appeared in the distance, their snow-capped peaks blinking at us from a distance.

It was 3pm, had what we thought was 4 hours of driving left to get us to Billings, our desired end destination for the day. The I90 in these parts has very little off the highway. Even gas stations are hard to find. We decided it might be a good idea to make a reservation.

The first hotel was booked. The second was, as well. Then the third. When calling the fourth, Cathe asked, "What's going on in Billings, there doesn't seem to be a room left in town?"

Turns out there is a Professional Bull Riders Association convention happening in Billings.

We narrowed out sites on Sheridan, Wyoming and managed to find a hotel fairly easily here. After dinner, we parked around back to find four Harley Davidson motorcycles. All of them from Ontario. Must be kismet.

Fave signs of the day:
An A&W advertisement: "Get Mugged"
Road sign: "Crazy Woman Creek Road"

Blogging by the campfire

9pm SD time - will add photos and edit in the morning.

DAY 4 - MINNEAPOLIS TO RAPID CITY, SD
I am writing this as I sit by the fire, a bottle of Bud beside me in some of the weirdest terrain I've ever seen. We are at a Koa Campground staying in a cabin while our tent dries. The cabin it basically a wooden tent with 5 beds. It has a swing on the front porch and a fire pit next to it. Perfect for us!

This morning, refreshed from our night at the Hampton Inn, with real beds and a breakfast, we hit the road at 10.15 am. A little late, but not too bad.

We started our destination listening to episodes of Car Talk (NPR) that Colleen had downloaded prior to the ride. Hilarious programs about cars.

Here are a few of their "Famous Last Words from people who live in trailer parks":
"Hey, watch this!"
"What does this button do?"
"You light it while I hold it."
"I wonder where the momma bear is...?"
"Uh oh!"

Also, a philosophical question posed to Click and Clack, the Tappit brothers (spelling?):
"If you're doing nothing, how do you ever know when you're done?"

The landscape through the rest of Minnesota was made up undulating hills of corn and soybeans going forever. We saw small planes dusting crops, wind mills, farm machinery working everywhere you looked.

The undulating hills shifted to flatter prairies. The sky opens up so we could see the storm clouds and lightning bolts miles ahead. Yet again, we headed into another storm raining down in a machine gun spray of water bullets. Lightning bolted from the sky all around us. The highway was straight and flat.

It was while we were driving through the storm that we realized we'd made the same mistake again. That is, the GPS gave us our arrival time as 7pm. What we didn't account for is that we were switching time zones. The GPS gives the end time for the time zone it is in, not for what you set your clock to. So, we thought we'd be getting to our site an hour earlier.

The landscape changed into smooth rocky slopes. As the rain finally ended and the sun came out, two full sky rainbows appeared. They spread from one horizon to the other, up into the sky in ribbons of violet, indigo, blue and green, yellow, orange and red. Simply gob smacking.

All along our drive, ads for Wall drugs appeared every 10 or 15 miles. Apparently they sell (and do) everything.

"Wall Drugs has 5 cent coffee!"
"Wall Drugs has a soda fountain!"
"Wall Drugs has a shooting range!"
"Wall Drugs has EVERYTHING!"

Crazy town, Wall, South Dakota. It's like an electronified version of the old west, with a neon sign above an "Old West Saloon" and multiple little stores. Can't forget to mention the Harley Davidson motorcycle parking lot.

We arrived at our Koa campground with lots of light left to set up and prepare our modest dinner of bratwurst, corn on the cob (bought fresh from a farmer), cherry tomatoes and some pickles.

Happy realization that has dawned on us:
The little Ikea pillows I popped into the car just before we left have proved quite usefull. Handy in the car. Great as camping pillows. In addition, they add a splash of colour to our car decor!

Fave Signs for the day:
Help manage your wildlife: Buy fur.
Vericose veins demand excellence.