You don't know how close I came to pulling the plug on 'Kathy's Big Adventure', but how depressing would that have been (for me anyway)? Just cross it of my 'to do' list like it's done? I couldn't do it. I think I'm stuck with 'Kathy's Big Adventure' forever.
Our fourth trip across the country this year landed us in Vermont which is where we are now. You'd think by now I'd be sick of road trips but I'm not. Max loves road trips too although how would I know for sure?
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| The Black Hills (western South Dakota) starts feeling like 'out West' to me |
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| Max getting up the nerve to go back into Wall, SD |
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We've gotten good at traveling with a dog (sorry Max, to some people you're a dog). We know now, after that night on the floor (that's Vince and I on the floor, not Max) of a 40 dollar dog-friendly hotel in Elkhart, Indiana, to request TWO beds in a pet-friendly room that costs more than 50 dollars a night. We also now know that Max loves tapioca and is afraid of the buffalo statue in downtown Wall, South Dakota. If Max is panting, even if I'm freezing, the windows have to be open and I have to hold bags on my lap so Max can have the whole back of the car to himself.
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| Max enjoys the comfort of a LaQuinta Inn (Missoula) |
I know if we miss the I-90 Continental Divide exit* outside of Butte (it comes up so fast) there is not another exit for 11 miles (22 miles round trip) and in Montana there can be a hundred miles 'to the next gas station'.
On a road trip, there is the frustration of moving from one partial radio program to another partial radio program and dropping every cell phone call but I savor every mile and always look forward to the destination in both directions.
Driving east I look forward to being able to get decaf anywhere (even though I don't like not being able to drink it outside because of the bugs). I look forward to being able to find Willow Run, Poland Spring and really green fields. I like that when skylines are hazy, it's because of humidity and not a forest fire.
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| Hiking in BC relatively just north of Metaline Falls. Photo credit: Ed Shaw 29 year buddy. This setting is real. Honest. |
I'm finally used to eastern time but have to remember that big birds in the top of a tree probably aren't eagles.
Where does milk come from?
The other day while riding my bike past one of the 1083 Vermont dairy farms (I love that smell) I came face to face with a cow in the middle of the road. Behind her were about twenty other cows all casually walking and pooping down the road like they owned it. Figuring this was a good opportunity to say something folksy, I looked around for the human taking up the rear. There wasn't one. Instead, behind the contented herd, dancing figure eights to keep the group moving forward, were a couple of dogs. The older one, at least part border collie and using as little energy as possible, efficiently kept her side of the group neat and tight while the younger, of an indeterminate background, nervously nipped at ankles and belligerently head-butted udders. Up and down as if on a trampoline, he nipped at the hips of cows innocently taking their time. Show off. I looked closer. The little guy had three legs.
Soon the canine team had gracefully maneuvered the group around the corner like a school of fish, down a driveway past a calf wildly trying to shake a 5 gallon pail from his head and into a dilapidated barn.
Soon the canine team had gracefully maneuvered the group around the corner like a school of fish, down a driveway past a calf wildly trying to shake a 5 gallon pail from his head and into a dilapidated barn.
This is what it would feel like if animals ruled the world.
Other recent adventures:
The podiatrist I've been seeing announced that the plantar wart he'd been scraping for a month is gone and the Amazon described 'like new' used book I ordered arrived with half of the book jacket ripped off and even though I'd only paid a dollar fifty, it made me mad.
Rewind to Washington.
From the house our field doesn't look that big. Then you realize that all those dots in the middle of it are 500 pound hay bales. Chad Grass hayed our Washington field this summer. Chad Grass. Isn't that a great name for someone that hays?
