Leaving the West

I had a faint hint of humidity last night in Mitchell, South Dakota (home of the Corn Palace). I am about to cross that invisible line and dip back into Eastern weather. My friends have all been talking about how hot it's been from Oregon to Montana and I'm , like, well, it feels pretty damn good to me. Today I hope to make another 8+ hour drive and make it to Milwaukee. I did it yesterday from Dayton, WY where I stayed with the oldest, dearest friends Bill and I share together. David McDougall basically introduced us in 1972. Dave has recently moved to Wyoming because he became an avid fly fisherman and fell in love with the Big Horns. His main avocation, however, has always been as an artist and I was fortunate to be able to see a show of his at a local museum. As you can see from this photo, his frames are as interesting as his paintings. Here is a link to the museum - http://www.bradfordbrintonmemorial.com/Images/Mcdougall/Mcdougall.html

The day before, I spent most of my time in Broadus gleaning information about my family and actually found the old homestead, which is a working ranch that has been owned by the same family since my great uncle sold it many years ago. I was awed to stand on the same land as my father must have every summer when he came out to work for Uncle Bud. Besides herding sheep, Dad helped Bud out in the general store he owned in Broadus. The family name is Serruys (Belgian) and I helped correct the spelling with the curator at the museum. I met all the retired men who gather at the local cafe every Friday morning (The Liar's Club) and visited with a retired vet on his ranch, near the old homestead. I learned about the town from the motel clerk and the people at the museum and came away feeling that I had been in a very rich place for history and for community. I would like to take my sister there.
Driving from Wyoming and then through South Dakota on a very hot, windy day I went through dry hills and then flat farmland where there were a lot of sunflower fields, some wheat and corn and lots of very small towns with terrible grocery stores (I just can't find the crackers that I like) and the same cafes serving the same steaks and hamburgers. The beer on tap is Bud Light, period. Better fare in Milwaukee? I think so.
Bill is meeting me in Columbus, where Katy is just packing up to move to NYC. He's going to drive me home on Friday. I've started imagining that I'm in my own bed and that I don't have to haul the frickin' bags in and out and try to keep some clothes wearable and keep the cooler in ice and not use my cell phone until 9:00 pm so I don't go over my minutes. I'm pretty sure I'll be sailing over the weekend. There are not many things about this trip I would go back and change. It's been wonderful but home is starting to look real good.

My Daddy's Roots

You are looking at the Crazy Mountains just out of Big Timber. I'm standing on the banks of the Yellowstone River looking north and just over those mountains is where my father grew up in Harlowton, where my grandfather was an engineer for the Milwaukee Railroad. Grandpa Al took his boys hunting and fishing in the Crazies and Dad skied there in the winter. Put The Horse Whisperer on your Netflix queue to see more.
Today I am in Broadus, way out east on the Powder River, where my grandparents and my great uncle homesteaded. I am about to go to the courthouse and the museum to find out more. I drove through the Crow and Northern Cheyenne reservations and the Custer Battlefield yesterday. This afternoon I am driving down to Sheridan, WY where I think Great Uncle Bud had a general store. In Sheridan there is an amazing collection of tooled leather saddles upstairs above King's Saddlery on Main Street (I think every town in Montana has a Main Street and a Stockman's Bar).
I'll stay the night with friends in Dayton, just down the road from Sheridan, who fell in love with the Big Horn Mountains and fly fishing. Now Dave is a river guide when he is not painting. He has a show at the Bradford Brinton Museum which I am hoping to visit. He actually introduced Willy and me back in 1972.
Yesterday I was feeling very melancholy about not having more time in Montana. I didn't go to my cousin's ranch in Harlow and I looked at all kinds of fantastic mountain ranges that would be heaven to hike around in. I saw campers and trailers and RV's everywhere and wished I owned one. I imagined riding across Montana on horseback, slow enough to really soak up these panoramas. Me, I'm buzzing by at 75 mph on I-90.
Today I am reconciled that I will be back and that I really would like to get home sometime soon. I guess I am already planning my next trip! For now, there are several folks here in Broadus that are curious about what I'll find out in my research so I have to report back to the Stockman Bar for lunch. Good thing that I eat beef.

A quickie from Missoula

I'm taking advantage of having wifi at a great coffee spot in Missoula, Espresso Break, on Higgins down toward the old train station near Taco del Sol, where Maggie used to work. This is just the greatest town and I have enjoyed being here for a couple of days but must be on the move. I am heading for Bozeman so it's only three hours away. A friend from the North Coast is getting her daughter enrolled at Montana State so we are going to meet up. That's where my parents met in the 30's and where I was a student for one year in 1970.
Speaking of 1970, have you heard Marc Cohn's new album? Every song on it was a hit in 1970. I really like the Dead cover of New Speedway Boogie with Jim Lauderdale singing the duet. I had been hearing cuts on The Loft - XM and then saw the album at a Starbucks so I now own it. I have picked up a few CD's here and there on the trip, mostly in Nashville and Memphis, but they have to compete with satellite radio and my iPod. Needless to say, there is not much silence in the Jetta.
Going backwards, I have to tell you what a gorgeous drive I had from the Columbia River Gorge to Missoula on Monday. It's so cool how that river broadens out and the hills are suddenly barren of trees. I left the freeway at Pendleton and drove to Walla Walla, which is a great college town out in nowheresville. Big, rolling hills covered in wheat with all of the patterns from the combines moving up and down and shooting out plumes of dusty gold into the trucks. Red barns and silver silos with shade trees around the farmhouses. So pretty.
I went by the Snake, Clearwater and Lochsa rivers before reaching the Bitterroot Valley. I drove through the Nez Pearce reservation and could imagine Chief Joseph riding over a hill with the cavalry in hot pursuit.
I came over Lolo Pass at night with not much traffic and enjoyed the power and finesse of my Jetta. I do like driving a good mountain road. It would have been nice to stop at one of the lodges along the way and I could almost smell the snow as the pines became more prevalent.
Laundry is done, eggs are boiled (my mainstay on road) and I will now traverse the Rockies and then head out into the plains with Broadus, MT and Dayton, WY my objectives; Powder River country, Custer and all that. Not as green, maybe, but stunning in its own way.
Safe travels, everyone, wherever you are.

Somewhere In the Middle of Montana

Well, I am not in Montana yet but I will be soon if I can get this blog out quick enough. I am in Pomeroy, WA on Hwy 12 en route from Walla Walla to Missoula and have just experienced the most beautiful drive through rolling farm country. I wish I could have a video of some of this trip while I have been driving. I just can't stop and take pictures all of the time. I'd never get anywhere.
My last post was titled Off the Grid but I have been back in the modern, technical world for quite some time. I am feeling great and have been completely immersed in visits with friends in Eugene and in Portland. Goodness sakes, it was impossible to see everyone but the meet-ups that happened were all wonderful. I need another two months just in Oregon! The photo is the Willamette River in downtown Eugene from a bike trail bridge, of which there are many. It was great to have a bike to use where I was staying and to have a hostess who was my bicycle partner (and to have maybe the nicest "hotel" ever). Got to check out the West Eugene Wetlands trail that Bill was very involved in creating both when we lived in Eugene and after we moved to Washington.
Today I drove along the Columbia River and wondered how many times I had been on that highway. We drove to Montana every summer when I was a kid, so I think maybe a whole bunch. I will be in Montana all of this week starting in Missoula, then Bozeman, up to my cousin's ranch (note to self: call Harry) and then down to the Big Horn Mts where our friend is a fly fishing guide out of Dayton, WY. I will definitely be listening to the Merle Haggard song that I am quoting in my title and have set my country music genre on shuffle for the duration. Yee Ha.
When I return to DC, I am going to post some notes on the great restaurants, breweries and coffee shops that I have found along the way. Needless to say, I am eating and drinking well and have lots of recommendations for mini-trips from the areas I have driven through. I will compare notes with my friend who is driving through Nova Scotia and New England in a camper van with her dog. She is my heroine role model.
Wind has been good on the Chesapeake and Bill is mastering the art of laundry. Maggie went to some SE library event and met Stevie Wonder. Katy traveled to Colorado with those percussion boys she hangs out with and they had a good time. She has the day off on Aug 26th so that is my target date for the trip.
Love to you all. Gotta go!

Off the Grid

I am punching myself back in after a number of days of trying to take it very easy after experiencing some rather uncomfortable muscle spasms around my left rib cage. Some of you may recognize this as the area where your heart lies. The spasms started in the shower at Cousin Marc's in Crescent City as I was getting ready to drive to Oregon on Friday. I did not have a clue what was happening and the spasms just got closer and closer. I have never actually experienced labor contractions but it seemed similar except NOT. Long story short, I went to the emergency room at Sutter Coast and got completely checked out, things are good inside and it really was muscle spasms.
Consequently, I stayed in Crescent City one more night and then slowly made my way up the Smith River Canyon over the next two days. No cell phone, no email, etc. but I was in the river as much as possible. Let the healing begin. On Sunday I spent almost the entire day at the spot where I spent my summers at the family cabin. I tramped around the river rock and found where we built forts and hid out in the canyon. I swam across the river twice and had no pain. I also spent one night at Patrick's Creek Lodge up near the border, a place that I have often wished that I owned. I'd put the grand piano back into the dining room.
Monday I drove up to Eugene and checked in to the Ward Hotel - our friends new apartment above their garage. It is probably the nicest place I have ever stayed and I would like to stay forever. I am telling all of my friends in Eugene that if they want to visit they have to come to me. Except, right now I am at Ann's because she has wifi and her husband, Louis, pours me really nice Spanish wines. Katy went to their Green Frog preschool and I became their music teacher in 1990. We are discussing morals and rules while I am blogging. Hey, I didn't make the rules!
It is time for me to face the music and start heading back East. I have a great trip ahead through Washington, Montana, Wyoming, South Dakota, Minnesota, Wisconsin and Ohio. I will end up with Katy and then a days drive to DC and the very patient hubby. If I could just book a flight and go home for a few days and them come back and resume this sojourn? But, no, I chose to do this and I must perservere.

Grandma Harper's ring

The best part of being in the Humboldt Bay Area is visiting with my cousin Barby, daughter of Aunt Zella, who I have written about earlier. Barby lives up in Westhaven above Trinidad and Moonstone Beach and usually has sun in her yard with the fog drifting down below. This year nobody escapes the gray mist unless they are several miles inland. It is thick and relentless. Yesterday at Pebble, where Zella's son Marc lives and where I grew up living next door, we had about 15 minutes of burn off from the East creating a false sense of summer only to have the fog not creep but blow in from the West to end all hopes of seeing a sunset off Castle Rock.
Anyway, I was at my cousin's and she gifted me with my Grandma Harper's ring that Aunt Zella had worn for many years. It was a rectangular black band with diamonds encrusted and it fit me nicely on my right ring finger. I was delighted to have a family heirloom. Mabel Harper grew up in Eastern Montana and I will be visiting that area later on in the trip.
From Barby's I headed for Crescent City in what I will simply label a Humboldt state of mind. I stopped at Dry Lagoon State Park near Orick because I had never been to that beach before and I have been trying to hit the beach at least once a day while I am on the coast. I pulled on a sweatshirt, grabbed my camera, took off my shoes and headed for the water. It proved to be a nice beach - pebbly, a lot of miner's lettuce which turns out to have a bloom like a petunia and Dry Lagoon was not necessarily dry. I tramped for awhile and then headed back to the car.
Back on Hwy 101 north, I noticed a very nice young man walking whom I had seen earlier before I had turned off so I stopped and offered him a ride which he was most happy to accept. He had a guitar on his back so he couldn't be too bad, eh? Turned out he was going to Crescent City and only a few blocks from my destination, the mother of the family he was visiting worked with my cousin's girlfriend, he was from Richmond, VA and we had a splendid time visiting along the way. Synchronistic, we both thought. Blessed was the word he used for the ride. Not many black men hitch the North Coast.
I was excited to get to 148 Pebble Beach Drive and to tell Marc and Connie about this adventure. However, in the middle of telling them I looked at my right hand and realized that the ring was gone. So gone. Tragedy! I went through all pockets and bags that I might have used, I looked around the car but I knew where the ring was. In the sand at Dry Lagoon, probably as I pulled that sweatshirt on or off. The ring was just loose enough that it fell off and I wasn't used to it being on my hand anyway and I did not notice until it was so too late. I am bereft and still have not told Barby. Did Grandma Harper deem me not worthy?
I am going to chase sun with my friend, Louise, today and see if that will cheer me up. I would rather have lost the key to the car, the iTouch, the phone (but definitely not the camera) than this beautiful ring. Woe is me.

I have just spent three nights in Eureka in a cottage in my friend's backyard. This is the second year I have stayed there and I guess I've been a good tenant because she gave me my own key this time to keep. It's so nice to have a kitchen and I can walk down to Old Town, where I seem to spend a lot of time. Eureka was a bustling lumber town when I was young and it was a very hip place to shop. Those days are gone as are all of the clothes and shoe stores that I haunted. Old Town, however, if full of interesting shops including some great used book and clothing stores. Yesterday I walked down at 9:30 and didn't get back to Vicki's until 4:00. I had halibut cakes and eggs at the Waterfront Grill where there was live jazz. I found a lightweight sweater because I was COLD in the jeans, turtleneck, socks and jacket that I had at the bottom of my suitcase for a month. Of course, as soon as I put the sweater on the fog burned off but it was back a few hours later.
On my way back I stopped at the Morris Graves Art Museum in what used to be the Eureka Public Library, a beautifully restored building up by the Eureka Inn. Morris Graves lived in Humboldt County during his final years. He donated a great deal of art to this organization, some of which was his contemporaries that he collected and some of his own. Two other exhibits were equally interesting and I came away with new list of artists to explore.
Hwy 101 north of Ukiah is a very fun ride: lots of hills and curves and it was probably built for a 75 speed limit originally before the energy crisis and all. The Jetta proved to be a great vehicle up and down and around. It was early evening so it was balmy from the afternoon sun and I had the sun roof open and the music playing. Every mile north I grow happier as I near the Humboldt County Line. I got a call from a friend just as I was coming out of Richardson's Grove so I pulled off at the Benbow Inn to have a good chat. Naturally, I hung out there for awhile to enjoy the surroundings. It has been restored since the 70's, when I might have stopped by before, and I was very impressed.
My first day in Eureka I drove over to Arcata and Trinidad to visit my cousin and stopped at two different beaches, Moonstone and the dunes at Manila. Both times I was in full sun, at least for awhile, and it was glorious. There are 4 dune areas between Eureka and Arcata on the coast that are being preserved. An incredible number of plants thrive there and several were in bloom. When I can't identify a plant I photograph it so Bill and tell me later. He has quite a collection to go through from this trip.
In Eureka I have had some good visits with dear friends and three times have sat down and showed them my pictures, which total almost 1,000 at this point. It has given me a chance to review where I've been, who I've seen, what I've done - I'm at the halfway point of my trip and I can only hope that the second half is as good as the first because this trip has been fantastic so far. In my sights are Eugene, Portland, Seattle, Spokane, Missoula, Harlowton MT (where my father grew up), Dayton and Sheridan WY (near where my grandmother and great uncle homesteaded), Minneapolis (where my mother grew up), Milwaukee and Columbus. And, don't you know, I sometimes wish I was on that last leg home to D.C. except, then I have to go back to work! We'll see if I can wash the road off and get back to it.
My photos are reversed from how I chose them this time. The top picture is at the dunes in Humboldt and you know where the other one is. As soon as I drove across the bridge I was in full sun and got off at Sausalito to explore houseboats and marinas. Bill...... I have a new place to share!