The people do not make the land: it is the land that makes the people--Mohawk proverb

Hello readers!

It's taken me a couple of days to get my stuff together sufficiently to type up my adventures. "Having fun" is sometimes more stressful than one might think! Yes I was probably nuts to do this on my own, but I did have a good time, and saw things I've wanted to see for a long time. So yes it was very worth it.

Let me see......my Spring Break happened on March 29, that Friday at 3 pm was the last moment I had to work! So that night I kinda got it wrapped up (for a change, usually I fall over asleep before I can finish, have to pack in the morning and it takes forever to get out the door). Not this time. I was awake at 3:30 am and on the road by 4:30....got though Seattle (no light feat!!!!!!) within an hour or so and was into the mountains, looking for slippery places to trash my car.

This is no joke. Some of you will remember that back during the Justin Hayward Borders solo tours (1995?), I did a likewise harebrained stunt, and drove all the way to Alabama and back....and driving late at night somewhere north of Denver, almost killed myself in a horrible slide. It truely put the fear of God into me! This time I decided to only drive during the day, and try to avert those black ice issues. It worked, and I had no close calls at all, in over 3000 miles of travel.

My first stop was scheduled to be in Bozeman, Montana, and I had no plans to see anything in that area....it was half way, and I just wanted to get there, on the way to other places. I traveled toward Roslyn (whence came Cicely of Northern Exposure fame) past the Gorge and the horse monument (where Grandfather turns over the Bowl of Creation and lets lose the Ponies on the face of the Earth, very neat sculpture and view of the Columbia River Gorge.....) onto Yakima, and over more mountains, and more (a bit like a Bilbo Baggins song, isn't it? :) ......I started seeing signs of "Lewis and Clark" suddenly. How neat! Those who have not read the real life adventure book, Undaunted Courage, really should, and it was pretty exciting to start seeing all the places mentioned.

Went through Cour'de lane (doesn't stick out in my memory) and Spokane (ditto) got to Missoula, which sticks in my head only because it's where my friend Rhonda Connely (artist, creator of Pajama Sam, and works on Blues Clues) comes from. On the Lewis and Clark maps, it's called Lolo, and Traveler's Rest. It's a real dump (I think they might do a lot of mining there), and I can see why Rhonda left it.

After leaving (rapidly) Missoula, I went up and over the grade to the Continental Divide. In the pass, I found some rock formations, that in all my travels around the world and across this country, and in pictures, I have NEVER sen the like. They looked like huge stone bubbles, smooth and protruding. (squirmy internal body parts came to mind), and were dark cocoa brown, like basalt. But they weren't. I have no idea what the geological explanation was, but I should have stopped for a picture, they were really weird. I then came to the spot that is mentioned over and over in the L & C journals, Three Forks. This was the meeting spot where they kept splitting up and going off different directions on their surveying tour, where about three branches of the Missouri tributaries all meet, and even the local Indians in the time of L & C used them as a landmark.

The Headwaters of the Missouri! WHAT A REALLY NEAT PLACE TO BE! It's finding lands like this that make me a traveler, I enjoyed myself so much driving across them, especially with Spring just beginning to bloom. If you have seen Dances with Wolves, A Man Called Horse, or Little Big Man, then you know what this place is like, only it's more wonderful. I can see why the Indians used to call this their hunting grounds, and fought over the territory. Waters and wetlands meader about, and it's a paradise for fishermen. The camping must be wonderful! Canadian geese were profuse, and I began to see the prairie antelope, little deer-like creatures, with white breasts. And yes occasionally I saw fenced range areas with real buffalo, a wonderful sight on the old prairie. I soaked up the beauty of the place while just driving through, and some day when I am really tired, I plan to go back and vacation there, in Yellowstone country. I prefer to live near the Sea, but if I had to live inland, I would choose some place here.

After this wonderful day, I got to Bozeman and spent a fairly nice night. Bozeman Pass is on the L & C maps, and the town is just west of the pass. The next day I hit the road at Easter sunrise, and after climbing the pass, dropped down into some more nice country....which eventually turned into some really boring plains and desert/tundra. I had followed Clark's path along the Yellowstone River, and finally came to the Little Big Horn area, where, yes the Lakota and Cheyenne dusted Custer (and he had it coming). My Mom had gushed about this place some years before, said the Crow tribe had a wonderful agency. You could tell you were on a Reservation as the dead cars in the yards increased. I stopped at the agency and saw nothing but a bunch of pigs, what is called in the books "The Hang Around the Fort People". Boy what a dirty slum! They really needed to sober up in that town. Down the road was the fairly new casino, and the usual gift shops near the actual battlefield. I drove up to the park, and some Crow gal with a Smokey hat on wanted 10 bucks to go to the battle site, so I kept on traveling. (It's just one more spot of weed as far as I am concerned).

I did see an interesting thing, south of the battle ground, a sign pointed off to "Sitting Bull's camp" and off to the east side of the road, the Little Big Horn made a loop....in the loop was a nice tree'd area, which would have been a great spot to camp. (By this time I started to think like an Indian). You have to understand that after coming across these dead plains, that a river really stands out with a line of trees; wild animals and people alike more or less lived down in these tree areas, along the river banks. It's probably nice and cool down there in the hot summers. As I left Clark's Yellowstone trail, and the Little Big Horn, the plains steadily turned more boring and BROWN as I crossed the Powder and the Tongue Rivers. I thought about how the massive buffalo herds must have moved, they would have lived on the open plains during the winter, eating the dead buffalo grass, when there was plenty of snow on the ground (they needed water) then in the summer, they would move to places where they could get water to drink, the rivers. I even picked some buffalo grass, it's interesting stuff, and perfectly good to eat (for a cow) even in the late Spring before the new grass has begun to grow.

Next stop: Mt. Rushmore. Wyoming is occupied by 99% cows, and 1% people, many huge ranches. Lots of BROWN. It was late afternoon (and a real relief!) when I got to the Black Hills, and found out I had made an error in not getting better maps from AAA before I left. I bumbled around Rapid City, and finally found the mountain.....and yes, it was very cool. Even nicer, no one was there, it was so early in the season. (Some people really are afraid to travel during Spring Break, but I had no trouble with snow....this time). I found my hotel, the Roosevelt Inn, and despite the power being out when I walked in, the innkeeper was really nice, and it turned out to be the best place I stayed in my journey. If you ever go there, I highly recommend them. A quiet, wonderful visit.

Monday morning I went back to Mt. Rushmore to take in the mountain again, look at it better. There is a "remote viewing area" that takes a bit of hiking to get up, but worked out fine for me and my flabby butt. (And it was free, the other entrance cost money). It was a strange experience being there, no one else, just me, some wild critters, and the 4 guys in stone. My camera chose this moment to have battery problems so I had to whack it a bit to take the shots. But otherwise.....it was cold, crisp, clear....I had a few philosophical moments to think about what each president had done, why it was such an honor to be there, and how long and how much work it took to carve something like this in living rock. You kinda have to see it to appreciate it, but the rock strata actually swirls underneath them, and they appear to grow out of the rock. It was truely one of those things where the sculptor "sees" the image in the rock before he cuts it; masterful art work indeed. It's comforting to think those guys will probably be there long long after our race is gone. What a wonderful thing for future space visitors to find, eh? Definately a "feel good" sort of place, and if you haven't seen them yet, I highly urge you to go. (Be careful though if you go in late March: the rates are good, but the icey hiking trail was kinda scary)

WELL. What could top that? Having gleaned local maps from tourist pamphlets, I navigated my way to the Crazy Horse sculpture that is currently in work some 17 miles down the road. (For those who don't know who Crazy Horse was, he was a gifted Native American diplomat, a great warrior, and well beloved by all who knew him. He was gunned down in prison by the American Army). Like Mt. Rushmore, all the tourist gift shops were closed, but that was ok. I got to see it. Ol' Crazy Horse is indeed growing out of the side of the mountain. Again, what an incredible undertaking. The artist doing it is a noted horse sculptor, and I truely look forward to the finished work, and only hope it is done in my lifetime. Like Mt. Rushmore, I found the heap of rock at the base of the mountain rather fascinating (where it was being chipped away to reveal the statue). Unlike Mt. Rushmore which sometimes had the eerie feeling of looking like a postage stamp glued onto the mountain, Crazy Horse overwhelms the entire landscape. Should be interesting when complete.

From there, my next stop was Denver, as I had a ticket to see the Moody Blues at the Fillmore the next day. I headed down the shortest route, which turned out to be Hwy 85. I'm not much of a cowboy freak, so I was interested to find this was "Rawhide" country. I passed over the Powder River again, and through Sheridan, Gillette, and Lusk, which are probably all noted towns in cowboy books. Most of the spots were just dinky towns growing out of the ranch land, and not much to them. It was fascinating to see that much open range, and people actually living far far away from anything out there. I stopped at one rest stop and found that road I was on used to be one of those "cattle drive" trails. Wish I could say more about it, but it was really unexciting. I didn't have much to do other than search the radio channels for clear music. Most was cowboy, some was even decent, much was pretty whiny. For what it's worth, across the country I found the Christian Country stations the strongest. Spreading the word of the Lord must be damn lucrative, to have such strong broadcasting stations.

Denver turns out to be a very normal city, and most of the people living there wouldn't know a cow from a collie. I found the Fillmore easily enough (I had a detailed map this time!) and it looked kinda nice from the outside...until you got up close, and saw the cracked facias that had been cleverly painted over. No one around. They wanted too much at the Ramada down the street (in walking distance) so I reserved a room just for the night after the show, and started out of town to find a cheaper place for the night of April 1. I did. It was a very nice Motel 8 with a hot tub! Once checked in and supplied with beer, I headed for the brand new hot tub, and spent a very neat time soaking my tired back.

After that, I attempted to resolve via phone the matter of "where will the Reunion Party be?" of Oct 5. This has been a long running thing for 3 months now, my 30 year class reunion, and no one had found a place that suited all the committee members yet. You know how committees are, everyone had their own agenda. No one could take a stand, or make a decision, no one could quite get the figures right, or get off their dead asses to check places out, no one could make up their minds, or anyone elses'....waffle waffle.....and the best place so far, with reasonable prices, any of us had found was only going to hold the place until April 1. So I called a friend on the committee, he said Radisson sounded good (which was being held until that day) and I hung around long enough the next morning to confirm the reservation and find out I had to cough up $500 (non refundable) to hold the place. Which I could......they were going to FAX me the contract.....it never turned up at the Ramada, like it was supposed to. When I got back home on the 4th, it took 3 FAX's for the people to wake up who were supposed to be calling me once it came. Just arranging this was a nightmare, and then someone on the Reunion committee bitched because "It hadn't been a democratic vote". This is the last time I will ever do such a thing, and I can see why those who did the Reunion before declined this time.

Just one more adventure in the great scheme of life!

click here for the Moody Blues review.

The next morning after the show, I got up happy enough, and loaded the car, and blew town, apparently following the Oregon Trail. I don't really care for Denver, it's just one more ugly town to me. Crusing past the US Mint was interesting, but that was the only thing I could see worth looking at.

OOOO UGH back through Wyoming! I went back on the same road I came in on, and veered off toward Salt Lake City (probably on the Oregon Trail, not sure; it's pretty horrible landscape). Luckily I left nothing in SLC I miss, though I did spend a few weeks there some years ago. I went through Laremie, again some cowboy hang out I didn't stick around to investigate. I passed some interesting places: one that sticks out is (in the middle of Nowhere) Sinclair, from whence comes Sinclair Oil. They are the neat green gas stations you remember from when you were a kid, because they have a big dinosaur on their logo! That whole Great Basin area is pretty rich with dinosaur bones. (One day I'll stop and dig for some). Another interesting stop reminded me of Tortilla Flat: it was the Middle.Nowhere rest stop, for gas, and I spotted a grubby old gent digging soda cans out of the trash can. WHEW I had a bunch of these! And hopped out and offered them to him. He was followed by four mutts, and I asked if I could give them my stale bread! He said yes, "just throw it on the ground, the won't take it out of your hands" and he mentioned that the dogs had all been abused, not trusting critters. Yes he was a bag man, but it was a nice meeting of two travelers, and he asked me where I was from. Always be nice to bag men (especially those with dogs), you never know when they might be angels.

I had one other interesting occurence...somewhere again in mid Wyoming, I vaguely recall some guy in another light pick up (like my car, Strider) whipping around me slightly over the speed limit. Nothing there, no reason not to speed. Anyway down the road, I saw the dreaded police flashers....and off the side of the road, like way off in the weeds was a semi, still upright. Near the road was the trashed pick up I think passsed me, the left side pretty well crushed, and an ambulance (didn't see a body). The poor truck driver was sitting Indian style with a blanket around him, being quizzed gently by the cops. It was really a spectacular feat that he was able to keep the semi upright, and I suspect he was in serious mental and physical shock. It sure made me respect trucks even more after that, and I was very careful passing.

Went AROUND SLC, a pretty drive, those mountains are lovely there, sloping, curved and covered in white; I can see why the Mormons love their country of Deseret so much. (I even took more pictures it was so pretty, wonderful farm land North-east of the main city). I then shot up through more dead land thru Twin Falls, Snake River (another spot on the Lewis and Clark trek). I stopped to stay in Burley, encountered a guy my age in the hot tub, and asked him what was in that place? Fishing I guess is what people come there for. Twin Fall is sort of the foothills of the Rockies, and rather nice fishing area, just like the headwaters of the Missouri.

The next day I was so happy to get back in the car! I was almost home!!!! YEAH! I think the road there is still the Oregon Trail, and more or less follows the Snake River, which of course is the Lewis and Clark path; off to the East of Hwy 20/84 (going to Boise) starts what is called the Hell's Canyon area. This is kiyak heaven! There are areas of the Snake that are totally inaccessible to anything but kiyak and raft, and the river gorge is said to be among the most spectacular geological formations in the USA. Otherwise that entire area is very scenic for the lovely mountains, still covered in snow.

It was pretty much a downward slide after that, just going home, hit rush hour traffic in Seattle, had to wait for the Narrows Bridge etc....each day I averaged about 11-12 hours, and I traveled over 3000 miles total. Yes I was crazy to do it, but it was kinda fun and worth it to get away and think.

By the time I got back, I had a pretty nasty ear-ache from all the different pressure changes. (As well, I lost a lot of sodas and beers in my cooler, they popped with climbs and drops). I still have a cold and feel ugly. My boss was too dizzy to find my note for "days off" for upcoming college course, so now that is a crisis. It's a time I feel like I am surrounded by molasses and everyone around me is a bumbling fool. Of course, it's probably just me, and not everyone else, but it's best I take it easy I guess. On top of that, I'm so nervous my hair is falling out! (SCAREY INDEED!)

So on those cheery notes, I bid you a fond farewell, and I hope your Spring Break was better than my mixed reviews and experiences!