Here's that big truck with my stuff - it found me! And all my things were just fine. In fact at one point, I accused the movers of unloading more than just my boxes. Ah, my life still reduced to boxes...
Somewhere in there is a box with my old faithful sewing machine in it. If all else fails, there's my newer machine in its original box.
To the right is the picture window with a view - will get a better shot of it later.
In the midst of conducting traffic, I hear the landlady calling me. She's brought me a small bounty from her garden, plus some chocolate zucchini cake. I also discover there are two kinds of plums trees on my property.
Before the movers arrived, I got a chance to walk a bit and take pictures. This view is taken with my back to the lake. That blue-roofed house huddled in the trees is my new abode. The big maple is just starting to turn color a bit.
There are actually two big maples and a gazillion leaves that will soon fall and need raking and bagging. A small price to pay, I suppose, for their beauty.
Facing the other direction toward the lake, this is my new view. This day, clouds were lying within the folds of the receding ridges.
Here's another view - this one taken from the driveway in front of the house - love that fence!
Jesse discovered that this spot by the back door is the perfect place to catch some rays.
Eventually, the movers finished and left, and I cracked open a few boxes to find some things that would immediately make us feel more settled and at home. A very tired dog was delighted when I spread her protective blanket on the couch, invited her up and threw our couch quilt over her. Order restored!
By the time we'd arrived in Walla Walla, we'd racked up about 1700 miles - quite a few more than the mover estimated to Sandpoint, but then, Walla Walla is farther west and south and we did take a few sidetrips. After several days of R & R it's time for the last leg of my journey.
This time I'm heading out on my own with only the dog for company. My original plan was to drive up to Sandpoint the day before the movers arrived so I could pick up the keys to my new place, scope it out in advance so I'd have a better idea of what would go where, then get a motel room for the night. My revised plan was to ditch the motel and just stay at the house since I'd packed enough essentials to survive one night without my things. I borrowed a sleeping bag, mat and camp chair from my friend (all things I couldn't fit in the car with her along) and retraced my route through the Palouse back to Spokane and Coeur d'Alene.
A storm had passed through the area, clearing the air of the smoky pall, and I took the opportunity to shoot a few pictures of those rolling Palouse hills. Farmers from the flat Midwest blanche at the thought of driving combines on these inclines, but the locals think nothing of it. Once again, the pictures don't quite capture how big these hills are - it is pretty impressive country that I enjoy driving through although I have no desire to live here.
Once back in CDA, I head north to Sandpoint, pick up my keys, a few groceries and head out to my new place. It is just as beautiful - no more so than I remembered, which is a relief. Hate to think I'd spent all this money, time and effort to relocate to a place that turned out to be a disappointment. I unload the car and wander the rooms, envisioning how things will be set up, where things will go. I have a hard time settling down, but eventually crack open a bottle of wine, eat my deli salad and bread, and take in the absolute silence. No radio, no TV, no VCR, just the traffic from the road, the train whistle and...is that rustling I hear above my head? If there IS something in the attic I don't want to think about it just now.
So I lay out Jesse's bed next to my sleeping bag, and guess who immediately plops herself in the middle of the sleeping bag? That dog's no fool, but there's no way I'm sharing! She begrudgingly gives in and we both sleep soundly tonight - home at last after a week of travel. I can't help but think the car is a bit relieved to be "home" as well - the tripmeter now reads about 1900 miles since taking off from Wisconsin.
This is our last day on the road - about 5 hours more and we should be in Walla Walla relaxing at my friend's home. Good thing since last night's experience has left us a little surly, especially since the clerk didn't want to refund our pet deposit or compensate us for any of the problems with the room. I meant to take a picture of the motel sign welcoming hunters, but we just wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. Even skipped the complementary breakfast! The next hour saw us swooping up and over Lookout Pass where Idaho meets Montana, and arriving in my hometown of Wallace. We had breakfast at the Wallace Inn (just off to the right in the picture below) where my friend was quick to point out the three different kinds of birch trees outside the window. I'd mentioned my fleeting fear that I might lose my inspiration if I wasn't surrounded by birch trees, so she wanted to remind me I'd find them out here as well.
Then it was on to Coeur d'Alene and into Washington State (the panhandle of Idaho is very narrow - about 75 miles along this route). At Spokane, we dropped south into the Palouse where we were soon back into smoke-filled skies. As opposed to forest fires, this prairie was burning stubble and scrub brush but it was no less serious than the Montana fires. In fact, it was so smoky that there was a definite pall over the land, leaving me with such a sense of doom. Very unsettling.
We arrived in Walla Walla early in the afternoon, all three of us ready to be out of the car and not headed for a motel. My friend lives in a wonderful old Sears kit house sitting on multiple lots. A creek runs along the property and the backyard is huge and tree-filled. Need I say, Jesse deemed this a 5 star establishment!
My things weren't due to arrive in Sandpoint for a few days, so I looked forward to decompressing, borrowing a computer to catch-up on mail and blogs, and spending some time with my god-daughter.
I didn't take many pictures along this part of the trip - I guess because it is such familiar territory to me. So I provided links if you'd like to see what this area looks like.
End of day four - a successful and safe trek out west...
I'm being chided by my readership to take a break from unpacking and get on with my travelogue. Ah, if only I were unpacking...I've been here just long enough that bills need to be paid and housework done (around the stacks of boxes). Oh, yeah, and grocery shop. Once the computer got up and running, there's been a ton of stuff to do on it too. I've gotten some help with the cleaning the last few days, so I've lost my excuse for not putting more stuff away! But it can wait a bit longer - on with my story.
Jesse, I should note, traveled pretty well, all things considered. This is her 4th move so she knows the signs. Once the boxes start stacking up, she becomes even more my shadow than usual. Eventually, the car is the only place she deems safe and it's hard to pry her out of it. I've had this particular car for a little over a year, and she has not been particularly fond of it. Difficult for her to get in and out of, and the back seat is harder and more contoured than the one she stretched out on in the old Saab. Although she'd want to accompany me on errands, she'd balk at getting in. So I was quite amused when suddenly she couldn't get in the back seat fast enough. She had to share it with my suitcase, but she decided that was a small price to pay to be sure she didn't get left behind. She got very adept at stepping onto the floor, then side stepping up onto the seat. Once we got rolling, she mostly slept, and when we stopped for gas, she'd hop out for me (but not for my friend if I was out of sight) and check out all the strange smells. All in all, a good traveling companion, as long as I was in sight or she was in the car.
Montana is a huge state, approximately 552 miles from east to West as the crow flies, and a bit farther driving the Interstate which dips south, then north again. Our goal for the day is to make it most of the way across it to within shouting distance of the Idaho border.
Before leaving Billings, we checked to make sure the forest fires were not impeding traffic on the interstate (at one point they were right along it and the road had to be closed), then were on our way. It was very smoky and hazy, so much so that if you didn't know there were supposed to be mountains off in the distance you might not see them. We stopped for gas in Livingston, which intersects with the highway heading south to Yellowstone National Park. You can see just how bad the smoke was, and the locals said this was the first day they'd been able to see the mountains.
Back on the road, we quickly found ourselves in a canyon going up over Bozeman Pass, and I felt that adrenalin rush I get from this kind of country.
Once over the pass, it was more open country, where I would normally expect to see deer or antelope. Instead, a coyote ran into the road in front of the truck ahead of us, thought better of it and ran back into the field. We decided that the fires may have displaced some of the wildlife, accounting for the confused actions of this one.
We started climbing again, this time over the Continental Divide (elev over 6,000 ft). Incredible rock formations on either side of the road.
As we negotiated the pass, I spotted this bit of color along the road, only the second hint of autumn we'd seen so far.
Then we were coming into Butte, site of a huge open pit copper mining operation now closed except for tourist tours (third picture below). Click here to read more about Butte, the Berkeley Pit and the on-going Superfund site clean-up.
As we headed for Missoula, I began to see the kind of trout streams Dad and I fished when I was growing up. I haven't fished for years, so I was a bit surprised at how excited I got, even feeling the urge to jump out and dip a line in the riffles. This land is in my blood!
Once past Missoula, the mountains close in more and are more heavily wooded. This picture is for Brother Bruce - the turnoff to one of our favorite fishing spots where he had a great deal of luck. Wouldn't you know it'd be named Fish Creek?
We opted to stay the night in Superior, a wide spot in the road that looks to mainly service the truckers, forest service and tourists. It is wedged in between the Interstate, a river, and a two lane road running along the opposite side of the river, all enclosed in a narrowing canyon. So far we'd had good luck choosing accommodations out of the AAA guide - just showing up and having no problem getting a very nice room. Since we knew the motel listed for Superior was small, we'd called ahead to reserve a room. Perhaps we should have driven the additional hour or so across the border to the next lodging in Idaho. This motel was anything but "Superior." Upon opening the door, we were assaulted by an overwhelming smell of disinfectant. It was the only time Jesse really balked. Leash or no leash, she was headed back to the car, and we literally had to shove her in the room. We weren't comfortable leaving the window open as this was a ground floor unit and we'd met some "interesting" men in the office who were also staying here, so we used the fan on the air conditioning unit to try to air the place out. There were other issues - flies, a dirty towel, remote that didn't work.
We decided to walk around town a bit - actually a pretty nice little town with a very nice park, several nice restaurants, and that river running right next to it. The towering mountains let me know just how close to home I was yet this night I went through a little bit of a meltdown. Guess Jesse and I ran out of adrenaline and excitement at the same time and both of us were feeling just a teeny bit homesick for a few familiar things and people of Wisconsin. Thank goodness once again for my traveling companion, who took the dog off my hands, and listened to me moan and groan during the walk and over dinner. Her ultimate prescription for my bout of the blues - much wine, a long shower, and a good night's sleep.
The first two did help, but the good night's sleep was not to be. The room was pretty hot, even though it was cool outside, so we cranked up the air-conditioning. Sometime around 1:00 a.m. or so, I heard Jesse up and realized it was stifling in the room. Yup, the air-conditioning wasn't working even though the very loud fan was still whirring away. I over-ruled my friend's vote to keep the window shut - what good is traveling with a dog if you can't trust her to ward off any strange men who might try to come through the window? Ok, so having the window open meant we had to listen to the semis pass by on their way to the truck stop, but at least it cooled off and we got some sleep.
End of day three.
Felicity commented "I love...seeing a part of the world I'm sure I'll never get to see..." I've enjoyed her blog and others for the same reason - she's lived in such interesting parts of the world, documenting the local architecture, culture and scenery for the rest of us to savor. It inspired me take more pictures along the way to Idaho than I might have otherwise so I could share the experience here. And so, it's on to day two of the trek out west.
It was another relatively cool day - 60's F, at least for the majority of it. I expected the scenery to be quite boring going across North Dakota. I'd not been this way before and figured it'd be flat and featureless as the Eastern part of South Dakota just below it. Instead, it was more rolling marshlands - lots of water - and surprisingly beautiful. At one point my friend inquired if anything I was seeing was inspiring me (yes, she'd heard my stories of how I'd discovered just how much my daily walks in the woods had influenced my art). Honestly, I had to answer, "Not a thing!"
The farther west we went, the more rugged the country became when suddenly we see this:
This is the southern unit of the Theodore Roosevelt National Park and very much like the Badlands and Painted desert of South Dakota which both of us had visited, but neither of us had any idea that North Dakota had something similar in its own Badlands. Roosevelt said of these lands,
"I grow very fond of this place, and it certainly has a desolate, grim beauty of its own, that has a curious fascination for me."
Now, we were on a bit of a deadline. We had 4 days to make it to my friend's house in Walla Walla so she could be back at her job teaching by Tuesday. She was pushing it a bit to take three personal days right after the school year started up. It wouldn't be pretty if she missed another day, so it was agreed this trip would not include sightseeing. However, we both looked at each other, and I said, "I don't care, I'm getting off at the scenic overlook." Here I am, windblown and posing like a typical tourist.
It's hard to get a sense of perspective from the pictures - but it really was quite impressive. To give you an idea, in this picture, there is a cowboy rounding up a group of cattle at the base of that mesa.
Here' I've zoomed in on them:
This link explains the red color - something we'd never heard of before. It's actually iron oxidized from burning coal beds ignited by lightning.
After walking along the extensive overlook and reading the explanatory signs, it was back in the car and off to Montana. Western Montana is still rather open country but mountains are starting to rise up and pine trees become more common.
We could see areas now and then where wildfires had burned near the interstate and knew that there was a very large fire burning on the other side of Billings, our destination for the day. The closer we got to Billings, the more hazy it got - smoke from the fires.
We had great accommodations that night at the Cherry Tree Inn, and I finally saw something to inspire me in the parking lot!
We capped off the evening with a great steak dinner - Montana is cattle country and the beef is excellent. One wouldn't think there'd be much difference, but Midwest beef has a different taste to it. Not better or worse, just different. Tonight's dinner is the beef I grew up on and have missed during my stint in Wisconsin.
End of day two.
Time for a travelogue. September 6th found the movers packing most of my stuff in preparation for loading the following day. After they left, I looked around and thought, "Here it is, my life reduced to boxes." Part of that felt good - released from the burden of material belongings. Part of that felt very strange - all that made this townhouse distinctively me was gone.
Early on the 7th, they returned to load it all into the big big truck. This makes my 13th move since college - oh, I hope that's not unlucky. Most of those moves were made with a U-haul truck but this is my third time being moved by the pros. It's expensive but worth every penny, trust me. I've taken a picture of every moving truck along the way, so here's the latest - one I shared with other people in transit.
I let the movers take more than I normally trust to strangers - well, these guys didn't feel like strangers since they were the same company that had moved me twice and good friends of a friend. Just didn't have the room in the car after loading all my financial papers, first night/first morning things, computer discs, food box, oh, yeah, and luggage plus the dog. I included a satchel with some hand sewing and a book just in case, but for the first time ever I did not take my trusty old sewing machine along with me, but let it and the newer one out of my sight and care for the duration of the time in transit.
My friend from Walla Walla arrived late that night and we stayed at a motel in town. Mmm, me, homeless, I thought, since I hadn't signed the lease on my rental on the other end. Well, the dog and I can always sleep in the car and my friend did offer me a place to stay in a pinch.
We didn't get the earliest start the next morning. Her 11:30 p.m. arrival didn't hamper our staying up to gab until after 1:00 a.m. We kept reminding ourselves that we had 4 days trapped in a car together, so plenty of time to catch up, but we couldn't seem to stop yakking. After a few last goodbyes and a swing past the property where we'd built our dream house only to have to sell it, it was off to Minneapolis and points west.
Ah, points west...not the most inspiring vistas in that part of Minnesota. Flat, flat, flat, and one would wonder what made anyone stop and decide to live here. Well, the farming probably, and look at those giant hay bales.
Eventually, though, we started to see a bit of topography and some water. After all, this is part of the waterfowl migratory route. There were tons of birds in the tree in the second picture below but we couldn't tell what they were.
My friend and I divided the driving time fairly evenly, and she was in charge of how far we needed to get each day. Here she is, determined to make it to North Dakota before stopping for the day.
At one point the clouds moved in and it looked like we'd get a good dousing, but it didn't happen. Oh, look - we're nearly to North Dakota, and with very little traffic around Fargo and the road construction crews gone for the day, we were able to reach Jamestown, ND by our predetermined must stop time of 6:30.
Very tired, very freaked (both the dog and I), and thinking, Oh, My, God, what have I done, I was lucky to have my friend along to remind me of how exciting this was for me and to get me up and out to a restaurant for dinner. Several beers and a hearty meal later, we staggered back to the hotel and collapse for the night.
End of travel day one.
