For photos: http://web.mac.com/goodlenora/iWeb/Site/Last%20Roll.html
or tiny URL: http://tinyurl.com/m4hueb
My gal pal Judith and I went for a day trip yesterday, up into the Palouse region of SE Washington State. Her family owns a wheat ranch near Tekoa (pronounced: Tee koh), which is north of Farmington, and not too far from Idaho, if any of you want to check out the map-and you should!
Our first stop was the little town of Farmington, where her great grandfather was one of the early settlers. We visited the library where the Mayor has an office, and Judith and Mayor Laura had quite a discussion about the local history (Judith is looking into her ‘roots’) and then we headed up to the cemetery, where she found the head stones of some of her pioneer family, and I wandered around taking photographs. Lena was a very popular name in the Farmington area, just in case you’re interested. For photos of the cemetery, go to the Photo site, above.
From there we drove up to Tekoa, where Judith had heard from a friend about a new restaurant, the Cafe Artisan. We had NO idea where this place was, but Tekoa is a small town, so we weren’t too worried. We found it on our first pass-through.
We weren’t sure what we expected, but we certainly didn’t expect what we found! We arrived after the lunch crowd had come and gone, and were the only customers, so had our choice of tables. We took one nearest the window so we could people watch. The waitress brought us our menu, and the first shock was the selection. There were three items from which to choose – a minestrone soup, a chicken caprese sandwich, or a seared shrimp and scallop salad. That was it. Nothing more.
Now, some folks might find such a short menu a bit off-putting, but we thought it marvelous! Even more so when we found out the menu changes weekly (see their web site (below) for weekly menus and the now and then cafe closures). Judith ordered the salad, and I ordered the sandwich, which came with a side salad.
Judith’s salad was huge, covered in large shrimp and scallops, and she said it was delicious. My sandwich came on fresh homemade bread (came out of the oven at 10.30 that morning). The bread was long and skinny, and I just knew (knew, I tell you) it would be hard and dry. I didn’t know at the time it was fresh out of the oven. It was soft and chewy and just absolutely perfect! We each ate half our lunch, and took the rest home for dinner last night. Oh, the salad came, pre-dressed (I forgot to order my dressing on the side) and the dressing was light, and delightful. And my coffee was wonderful! They keep it hot in a vacuum pot so it doesn’t get bitter. The coffee was a dark Sumatra, and it, alone, worth the drive!
About the time we finished, the owner and chef, Amber, came out to visit with us. That’s when we learned the menu changes weekly – as everything she serves is made from scratch, it must depend on what she buys as to what she makes. Lunches are served Tuesday through Saturday and dinners Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. The dinner menu is also limited, but also changes weekly.
Cafe Artisan’s website is: http://www.cafeartisan.com/ Check it out for the current menu, hours, directions, and much better photos of it than what I took!
Those of you who are still reading this, and live in Washington, NE Oregon, or someplace in Idaho, check this restaurant out. Those of you who think you might like to live in Small Town, America, check out Tekoa. It’s a delightful small town, full of old homes and community spirit.
After lunch, we drove to Judith’s family’s wheat ranch, where they grow wheat and, this year, lentils. From there we headed home, with a side trip up Steptoe Butte. Steptoe Butte is a quartzite hill that sticks up about 1000 feet from the surrounding country. There is a road all the way to the top, from which the view is spectacular. On the way down, a young buck, with two straight horns about six inches (guessing only, he wouldn’t let me get close enough to measure) walked down the road in front of us, he also refused to turn around and pose for a portrait.
This was a marvelous day trip – made the more so because Judith drove the whole time, all I had to do was sit back and watch the country and enjoy her company.
“There are no foreign lands. It is the traveler only who is foreign.” - Robert Louis Stevenson
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Friday, June 5, 2009
Jennifer and Jojo, Friends Forever
While on my trip around the country, I talked to many people, including a few librarians. To all these folks, I talked about two books, one, of course, is mine, due out on or about 1 July 2009. The other book is a little book about two little girls, Jennifer and Jojo. Well, instead of telling you about this charming little book, read the flier Jolanda sent and I handed out to many people. I had one of the books with me, and everyone I showed it to, thought it was wonderful. I left the book with my sister, Stephanie, who donated it to her church for the church library. It is a wonderful book for libraries – church, school, or public. Consider buying a couple and donating them. Please, purchase them from Jolanda, do not order from Kenya, as they are not set up to handle overseas orders and will forward your request directly to her. See below for cost and Jolanda's email for contact and order information.
Jennifer and Jojo: Friends Forever, written for children aged 7 to 8 years old, is the story of two young girls. Jennifer is black and has lived in Kenya all her life; Jojo is a white girl born in a country far across the ocean. Her family has made Kenya its temporary home. The girls go to school together, play together, and vow to keep their friendship alive even after Jojo’s family is transferred to another country.
Written in free verse, Jennifer and Jojo’s story celebrates a loving friendship that transcends the limitations of sameness and local community, and touches on the importance of education, family, and gender equality –– but its most important message is that people everywhere are very much alike.
My own ties to Kenya are strong. As a teenager, I had the great good fortune to live five years in the Kenyan capitol, Nairobi. It was my home in every sense of the word. My friends, in those early years of the country’s new independence, formed a kaleidoscope of nationalities and cultures, and we learned from each other a lesson that has since informed my life: that we humans are all far more similar than different.
When I returned to Nairobi to research my graduate thesis on Kenyan children’s books, I spoke with many young readers who complained about the lack of entertaining stories that reflected their lives: modern, urban, international, and firmly rooted in Kenya. Jennifer and Jojo, Friends Forever was written for them.
The book was published by Kenya Literature Bureau and approved for use in public schools by the Kenya Institute for Education. Its publication has been partially subsidized by the World Bank. All profits will remain in Kenya, where the book will be marketed primarily to Kenyan schoolchildren and recreational readers, but I believe Jennifer and Jojo, Friends Forever will also appeal to American children. This is not just a book about Africa, but an African book in content, style of illustration, and production –– an introduction to a distant land and its people, and a tangible piece of contemporary Africana.
Africa is so much more than the place of great tragedies –– starvation, corruption, and tribal warfare –– we have come to think it. Many Africans lead lives that would be considered perfectly ordinary by any western standard. Truly, there are more similarities than differences between us! It is my hope that Jennifer and Jojo, Friends Forever will help create a new, more realistic perception of Africa, one young reader at a time.
–– Jolanda Alkemade
Title: Jennifer and Jojo, Friends Forever
Author and US Distributor: Jolanda Alkemade
Publisher: Kenya Literature Bureau
Book dimensions: 5 3/4” x 8 1/4”
41 pp, 29 4-color illustrations
ISBN: 978-9966-44-709-8
$5.00 (excl. shipping)
website: www.jenniferandjojo.com
email: jenniferandjojo@gmail.com
Jennifer and Jojo: Friends Forever, written for children aged 7 to 8 years old, is the story of two young girls. Jennifer is black and has lived in Kenya all her life; Jojo is a white girl born in a country far across the ocean. Her family has made Kenya its temporary home. The girls go to school together, play together, and vow to keep their friendship alive even after Jojo’s family is transferred to another country.
Written in free verse, Jennifer and Jojo’s story celebrates a loving friendship that transcends the limitations of sameness and local community, and touches on the importance of education, family, and gender equality –– but its most important message is that people everywhere are very much alike.
My own ties to Kenya are strong. As a teenager, I had the great good fortune to live five years in the Kenyan capitol, Nairobi. It was my home in every sense of the word. My friends, in those early years of the country’s new independence, formed a kaleidoscope of nationalities and cultures, and we learned from each other a lesson that has since informed my life: that we humans are all far more similar than different.
When I returned to Nairobi to research my graduate thesis on Kenyan children’s books, I spoke with many young readers who complained about the lack of entertaining stories that reflected their lives: modern, urban, international, and firmly rooted in Kenya. Jennifer and Jojo, Friends Forever was written for them.
The book was published by Kenya Literature Bureau and approved for use in public schools by the Kenya Institute for Education. Its publication has been partially subsidized by the World Bank. All profits will remain in Kenya, where the book will be marketed primarily to Kenyan schoolchildren and recreational readers, but I believe Jennifer and Jojo, Friends Forever will also appeal to American children. This is not just a book about Africa, but an African book in content, style of illustration, and production –– an introduction to a distant land and its people, and a tangible piece of contemporary Africana.
Africa is so much more than the place of great tragedies –– starvation, corruption, and tribal warfare –– we have come to think it. Many Africans lead lives that would be considered perfectly ordinary by any western standard. Truly, there are more similarities than differences between us! It is my hope that Jennifer and Jojo, Friends Forever will help create a new, more realistic perception of Africa, one young reader at a time.
–– Jolanda Alkemade
Title: Jennifer and Jojo, Friends Forever
Author and US Distributor: Jolanda Alkemade
Publisher: Kenya Literature Bureau
Book dimensions: 5 3/4” x 8 1/4”
41 pp, 29 4-color illustrations
ISBN: 978-9966-44-709-8
$5.00 (excl. shipping)
website: www.jenniferandjojo.com
email: jenniferandjojo@gmail.com
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
"Old Age isn’t for sissies" --Bette Davis
Well, if you were confused about yesterday’s blog, imagine how I felt when, shortly before going to bed, I realized I’d lost a whole day! That yesterday was, in fact, 1 June 2009, not 31 May 2009! I’d spent the whole day doing Sunday cleaning, and preparing for this morning, and my Monday writing. Arrrggghhhh!!!!! I apologize for any confusion I may have brought you. Today is Tuesday, 2 June 2009. Honest. Trust me. (Trust Google Calendar!)
Anyhow, I’d promised you my rant, uh, essay, on Footnotes, so here it is, all 717 words.
Remember footnotes--those notes in tiny print under a black line at the foot of the page? What ever happened to them? Where did they go? Did they get tired of hanging onto the black line and slide off the page to be eaten by the dust bunnies under the bed?
I read a lot of nonfiction, and I read it for enjoyment as much as to learn, and because I read everything, I read the footnotes. When they were at the bottom of the page it required a quick glance, mere seconds, to determine whether or not to read them.
Footnotes now only exist when I type them. If I write them, I know what they say and I don’t need to glance to the bottom of the page, except when I proof what I’ve just written.
Now, someone in his infinite wisdom – probably someone who isn’t a ‘true reader’ – has changed the publishing of books. Footnotes are passé. They are old fashioned. They are “Nota non grata.” They have become the red headed orphan. Why?
The best answer I’ve found is a slam to all who are not working in academia. Footnotes have migrated to endnotes because some people found them irritating and in the way, and no one but academes read them anyway, so why not put them in the back, out of the way, allowing the text to flow more beautifully. Say what?
In an era when the mantra is “time is money,” and more and more items are on the market to save time, and take our money, why have books devolved into endnotes? Time, like money, is not to frivolously twitter away on endeavors of questionable quality. Like endnotes.
Now, instead of one bookmark, and mere seconds to scan a footnote to determine whether it’s something to read or not, I have to flip to the back of the book and find the endnotes. I now need two bookmarks (I actually read one book that required three book marks. I admit, it was a textbook of sorts, so some silliness could be expected). Every time I come to one of the small, superscript numbers in the text, I must now stop reading, disrupt the “beautiful flow of words,” hold my place, go to the back, scan until I find the matching number, and determine whether or not to read the note. Then I must go back to the text and find my place, because by then, I’ve moved my finger and lost track of which line I was reading. This process no longer takes mere seconds.
Admittedly, some authors are kind enough to use end notes as bibliography notes, with no text – a quick scan and I can tell I don’t need to keep up the flipping and flapping of pages. And, sometimes, I can scan down the notes and make a mental note that I don’t need to check them until I get to number 347. However, there is frequently good information in the notes that I don’t want to miss.
And chapter endnotes? I hope the person who came up with that idea spends eternity flipping through pages trying to quickly find the end of the chapter. Eternity is a long time. He may get his just rewards. (I hope he sits next to the person who invented white baby shoes, and is spending his eternity polishing them.)
I don’t believe the argument that paper is saved any more than I believe that non-academic readers aren’t interested in footnotes.
Had I learned to enjoy reading while sitting in a chair, possibly at a table, endnotes might not hold the dire amounts of frustration they do. Yes, I learned to read sitting in a chair at a desk, but for pure enjoyment, my favorite way to read a book is stretched out on my back in bed. Or on the couch. Or maybe a hammock. And, at my age, I’ve earned the right to read where I want to. If it’s technical, or job related, I read at my desk. But I don’t have a job any more. I’m retired.
Footnotes. One of many things that have quietly slipped into the history box labeled “The good old days” of which I am more and more convinced does exist--somewhere.
Anyhow, I’d promised you my rant, uh, essay, on Footnotes, so here it is, all 717 words.
Footnotes
--Lenora Rain-Lee Good
Remember footnotes--those notes in tiny print under a black line at the foot of the page? What ever happened to them? Where did they go? Did they get tired of hanging onto the black line and slide off the page to be eaten by the dust bunnies under the bed?
I read a lot of nonfiction, and I read it for enjoyment as much as to learn, and because I read everything, I read the footnotes. When they were at the bottom of the page it required a quick glance, mere seconds, to determine whether or not to read them.
Footnotes now only exist when I type them. If I write them, I know what they say and I don’t need to glance to the bottom of the page, except when I proof what I’ve just written.
Now, someone in his infinite wisdom – probably someone who isn’t a ‘true reader’ – has changed the publishing of books. Footnotes are passé. They are old fashioned. They are “Nota non grata.” They have become the red headed orphan. Why?
The best answer I’ve found is a slam to all who are not working in academia. Footnotes have migrated to endnotes because some people found them irritating and in the way, and no one but academes read them anyway, so why not put them in the back, out of the way, allowing the text to flow more beautifully. Say what?
In an era when the mantra is “time is money,” and more and more items are on the market to save time, and take our money, why have books devolved into endnotes? Time, like money, is not to frivolously twitter away on endeavors of questionable quality. Like endnotes.
Now, instead of one bookmark, and mere seconds to scan a footnote to determine whether it’s something to read or not, I have to flip to the back of the book and find the endnotes. I now need two bookmarks (I actually read one book that required three book marks. I admit, it was a textbook of sorts, so some silliness could be expected). Every time I come to one of the small, superscript numbers in the text, I must now stop reading, disrupt the “beautiful flow of words,” hold my place, go to the back, scan until I find the matching number, and determine whether or not to read the note. Then I must go back to the text and find my place, because by then, I’ve moved my finger and lost track of which line I was reading. This process no longer takes mere seconds.
Admittedly, some authors are kind enough to use end notes as bibliography notes, with no text – a quick scan and I can tell I don’t need to keep up the flipping and flapping of pages. And, sometimes, I can scan down the notes and make a mental note that I don’t need to check them until I get to number 347. However, there is frequently good information in the notes that I don’t want to miss.
And chapter endnotes? I hope the person who came up with that idea spends eternity flipping through pages trying to quickly find the end of the chapter. Eternity is a long time. He may get his just rewards. (I hope he sits next to the person who invented white baby shoes, and is spending his eternity polishing them.)
I don’t believe the argument that paper is saved any more than I believe that non-academic readers aren’t interested in footnotes.
Had I learned to enjoy reading while sitting in a chair, possibly at a table, endnotes might not hold the dire amounts of frustration they do. Yes, I learned to read sitting in a chair at a desk, but for pure enjoyment, my favorite way to read a book is stretched out on my back in bed. Or on the couch. Or maybe a hammock. And, at my age, I’ve earned the right to read where I want to. If it’s technical, or job related, I read at my desk. But I don’t have a job any more. I’m retired.
Footnotes. One of many things that have quietly slipped into the history box labeled “The good old days” of which I am more and more convinced does exist--somewhere.
THE END
Coming soon: My Adventures as Brother Rat will be available at: www.samsdotpublishing.com on 1 July 2009, it will be published as a quality Trade Paperback.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Memorial Day, 2009
Today is 31 May, the traditional Memorial Day. It is a day to remember all the Veterans who have served with honor in the Uniformed Services of this country -- to remember them, their sacrifices and their contributions. Many made the supreme sacrifice, all contributed, and to those Vets who happen to read this blog, I sincerely thank you for serving. I thank those of you who served only because you were called to duty, and I thank those of you who volunteered. Many, many thanks! If you’re not a Vet, please, tell every Vet you know ‘Thank You,’ and any men and women you see in uniform, tell them ‘Thank You,’ too. Not just today, but anytime, anyplace, you see them.
Yesterday, my friend, Judy, and I went forth to do a little exploring in the local area, and to photograph anything we happened upon that might be worth the film. Of course, we no longer use film, but we still think that way sometimes ;-).
Photos at: http://web.mac.com/goodlenora/iWeb/Site/Library%2020.html
A couple miles from my home, down near the Columbia River, we happened upon a small herd (three) of horses, Studley and his harem. Their meadow was being watered, and there was shade for them, but they seemed to prefer being out in the sun. Once they became aware we were at the fence, they wandered over to check us out. OK, they wandered over to see what treat we had for them. Alas, no treats. But they did allow us to take their pictures.
Books I am Reading on this Date:
1. Edge.org presents What Have You Changed Your Mind About? Today’s Leading Minds Rethink Everything –edited by John Brockman with an Introduction by Brian Eno. This is a small paperback, somewhere between a Trade Paper size and a mass market size, and worth the price. As I understand it, every year Edge asks a question of 100 or so brainiacs throughout the world. The 2008 Question was:
"When thinking changes your mind, that’s philosophy. When God changes your mind, that’s faith. When facts change your mind, that’s science.
What have you changed your mind about? Why?
Science is based on evidence. What happens when the data change? How have scientific findings or arguments changed your mind?"
Answers are provided by Steven Pinker, Richard Dawkins, Nassim Nicholas Taleb, Alan Alda, Irene Pepperberg, Brian Eno and a host of others. Answer the question yourself, then read their answers.
2. The Collected Stories of Eudora Welty. I believe this collection covers just about all the short stories she wrote. She was a Southern Lady, whose characters and places were in the South, many of the stories take place along or near the Natchez Trace, a place I have visited and enjoyed.
3. Dine bahane, The Navajo Creation Story – by Paul G. Zolbrod. This is a book I picked up at Chaco Canyon, recommended by Rose, the young lady in the gift shop. She said it was about the best history of the Navajo in the store. I just started it yesterday, and I think it will be an interesting, though frustrating, read. Paul Z uses endnotes instead of foot notes. I will not get on my soap box now, but will put my short essay up on endnotes v. footnotes in a few days. (Something for you to look forward to!)
“A little autobiography and a lot of imagination are best.” –Raymond Carver
Yesterday, my friend, Judy, and I went forth to do a little exploring in the local area, and to photograph anything we happened upon that might be worth the film. Of course, we no longer use film, but we still think that way sometimes ;-).
Photos at: http://web.mac.com/goodlenora/iWeb/Site/Library%2020.html
A couple miles from my home, down near the Columbia River, we happened upon a small herd (three) of horses, Studley and his harem. Their meadow was being watered, and there was shade for them, but they seemed to prefer being out in the sun. Once they became aware we were at the fence, they wandered over to check us out. OK, they wandered over to see what treat we had for them. Alas, no treats. But they did allow us to take their pictures.
Books I am Reading on this Date:
1. Edge.org presents What Have You Changed Your Mind About? Today’s Leading Minds Rethink Everything –edited by John Brockman with an Introduction by Brian Eno. This is a small paperback, somewhere between a Trade Paper size and a mass market size, and worth the price. As I understand it, every year Edge asks a question of 100 or so brainiacs throughout the world. The 2008 Question was:
"When thinking changes your mind, that’s philosophy. When God changes your mind, that’s faith. When facts change your mind, that’s science.
What have you changed your mind about? Why?
Science is based on evidence. What happens when the data change? How have scientific findings or arguments changed your mind?"
Answers are provided by Steven Pinker, Richard Dawkins, Nassim Nicholas Taleb, Alan Alda, Irene Pepperberg, Brian Eno and a host of others. Answer the question yourself, then read their answers.
2. The Collected Stories of Eudora Welty. I believe this collection covers just about all the short stories she wrote. She was a Southern Lady, whose characters and places were in the South, many of the stories take place along or near the Natchez Trace, a place I have visited and enjoyed.
3. Dine bahane, The Navajo Creation Story – by Paul G. Zolbrod. This is a book I picked up at Chaco Canyon, recommended by Rose, the young lady in the gift shop. She said it was about the best history of the Navajo in the store. I just started it yesterday, and I think it will be an interesting, though frustrating, read. Paul Z uses endnotes instead of foot notes. I will not get on my soap box now, but will put my short essay up on endnotes v. footnotes in a few days. (Something for you to look forward to!)
“A little autobiography and a lot of imagination are best.” –Raymond Carver
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Indy 500 Race Day, 2009
Sunday, The Day of the Indy 500!
No photos.
I’ve been home a smidge over a week, and am caught up on everything but cleaning house. One is never caught up with cleaning house, is one?
Tomorrow I begin writing again. Up in the morning, coffee, and a few hours at the computer. I usually take time for emails now and then, and phone calls, but mostly, my nose is to the screen and my fingers on the keyboard, with several breaks for coffee input and output. Was that too much information?
Several people have asked me where my favorite place on our trip was, and after thinking on that, I can honestly say, “Wherever I was at the moment.” I loved the wide open of the Great Plains, but I also loved the East Coast and the Rocky Mountains, and the deserts of the Southwest and the swamps/bayous/everglades of the Southeast. As much as I enjoy travel and new sights, it’s really the people I meet and or reconnect with that makes it worth the while and is the most fun. I try to be where I am at the moment, and wherever that is, it is usually a great place to be.
I added another Sister of Choice to my Family of Choice, that’s always a good thing. One can never have too many friends or too many family members, and when one gets to choose both, well, that’s calorie-free cheesecake no matter how one slices it!
One of the best books I read on the road was while we were in Fargo, with Donna. I read her copy of The Last Lecture –by Randy Pausch. I wouldn’t call it life changing for me, though it did remind me to update my Bucket List, but it was a fascinating read – well done, not at all maudlin, and I think anyone who reads it, young or old, will enjoy it. The younger ones might get a few really good insights into their Childhood Dreams and the Achievement of same. Thanks, Donna, for the recommendation, and the loan of the book. (Did I mention it’s both well-written and a quick read?)
Another good book, for those interested in American history, is Geronimo – His own Story -- The Autobiography of a Great Patriot Warrior As told to S. M. Barrett. I picked up two bios of Geronimo, one by a man who had a definite bias not only against Geronimo, but toward Apaches, or maybe just Native Amercans. I think I left it in some hotel room. This book was much better, gave the same information, but in a much different light, and no, it was not an apology. Geronimo was very honest.
For a change of pace, I picked up a copy of Inspector Imanishi Investigates by Seicho Matsumoto, translated by Beth Cary, from the sale rack in one of the libraries we attended – I think it was in Independence, Virginia. I seldom buy hardbacks and about equally seldom buy murder mysteries, but this was great fun. (I told Kay I bought it for the photo of the author on the back. He looks like a Japanese hippy cleaned up in a suit – longish hair, and a bent cigarette in his mouth.) At any rate, it was fun brain candy for the trip.
“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness.” - Mark Twain
No photos.
I’ve been home a smidge over a week, and am caught up on everything but cleaning house. One is never caught up with cleaning house, is one?
Tomorrow I begin writing again. Up in the morning, coffee, and a few hours at the computer. I usually take time for emails now and then, and phone calls, but mostly, my nose is to the screen and my fingers on the keyboard, with several breaks for coffee input and output. Was that too much information?
Several people have asked me where my favorite place on our trip was, and after thinking on that, I can honestly say, “Wherever I was at the moment.” I loved the wide open of the Great Plains, but I also loved the East Coast and the Rocky Mountains, and the deserts of the Southwest and the swamps/bayous/everglades of the Southeast. As much as I enjoy travel and new sights, it’s really the people I meet and or reconnect with that makes it worth the while and is the most fun. I try to be where I am at the moment, and wherever that is, it is usually a great place to be.
I added another Sister of Choice to my Family of Choice, that’s always a good thing. One can never have too many friends or too many family members, and when one gets to choose both, well, that’s calorie-free cheesecake no matter how one slices it!
One of the best books I read on the road was while we were in Fargo, with Donna. I read her copy of The Last Lecture –by Randy Pausch. I wouldn’t call it life changing for me, though it did remind me to update my Bucket List, but it was a fascinating read – well done, not at all maudlin, and I think anyone who reads it, young or old, will enjoy it. The younger ones might get a few really good insights into their Childhood Dreams and the Achievement of same. Thanks, Donna, for the recommendation, and the loan of the book. (Did I mention it’s both well-written and a quick read?)
Another good book, for those interested in American history, is Geronimo – His own Story -- The Autobiography of a Great Patriot Warrior As told to S. M. Barrett. I picked up two bios of Geronimo, one by a man who had a definite bias not only against Geronimo, but toward Apaches, or maybe just Native Amercans. I think I left it in some hotel room. This book was much better, gave the same information, but in a much different light, and no, it was not an apology. Geronimo was very honest.
For a change of pace, I picked up a copy of Inspector Imanishi Investigates by Seicho Matsumoto, translated by Beth Cary, from the sale rack in one of the libraries we attended – I think it was in Independence, Virginia. I seldom buy hardbacks and about equally seldom buy murder mysteries, but this was great fun. (I told Kay I bought it for the photo of the author on the back. He looks like a Japanese hippy cleaned up in a suit – longish hair, and a bent cigarette in his mouth.) At any rate, it was fun brain candy for the trip.
“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness.” - Mark Twain
Monday, May 18, 2009
Letter to Governor of Ohio
As I stated in my earlier blog, I would write the Governor of Ohio a letter about the two rude women in the Ohio Visitor's Center. Here is the letter as I sent it to him:
Dear Governor Strickland,
My friend and I recently made a very long, and enjoyable road trip circumnavigating the United States. We stopped in every Visitor’s Center that was open as we came into a new state, and in each and every one we were greeted with smiles and welcomes – until we entered Ohio.
We traveled with ‘Flat Stanlietta’ – a female version of Flat Stanley – and all the Official Greeters were eager to hear about Flat Stanlietta, and her travels, and gave her, and also us, ideas of where to go, what to see, then gave her bookmarks, or whatever freebies they had. Except the Official Greeters in Ohio.
When we crossed over the Pennsylvania border into Ohio and entered the Visitor’s Information Center, there were two women behind the counter. One sat as far away from the counter as she could and glowered at us as she ate her lunch. She did not put her food down, apologize for eating on duty or for lack of a break room; she did not offer to help--she just kept eating, and glowering. The other, somewhat younger one, was on her cell phone, and she was NOT happy that I had the temerity to stand at the counter to request information. With a great theatrical sigh, she asked her friend if s/he could hold the phone for a bit, as someone was there. She did put down her phone, and she did give us a map and some information, but she was not pleased that we had interrupted her phone call!
There were no smiles of welcome, there was no warmth, or kindness at all. These women are the Official Greeters to the State of Ohio, and we couldn’t wait to get out of their domain – and across and out of the state!
Fortunately, the grounds keeper outside smiled and greeted us, and I told him how positively rude the women had been. My friend and I had not planned on taking the Turnpike—we like the Blue Highways – but we decided the Turnpike would be the quickest way out of Ohio, so we took it. We did meet a Greeter, Tom, at one of the rest areas (at about mile post 100). He, though, works for the Turnpike system, not the State.
I understand that these women probably come under the domain of the Ohio Tourist Bureau, and not your office; however, they are representing YOU. I tried to call the Tourist Bureau, but could not find a contact phone number in the Tourist magazine Tom gave me. I did find a phone number but the person who answered the phone only wanted to mail me information, he did not want to take any comments.
In our two months of travels, we only met three impolite and rude people. One was in a restaurant in Arizona—one my friend’s family frequented until the incident, and shall not return to--and the other two are your Official Representatives welcoming visitors to your state.
Please be advised a copy of this letter, and any response I may receive, will be posted on my blog.
Sincerely,
Lenora R. Good
http://roadtripsandmore.blogspot.com
As I said in the letter, any responses I may receive will also be posted.
Here is the first response, obviously an automatic one:
Thank you for contacting the Office of Governor Ted Strickland.
You email message is important to us. If your email includes time sensitive information, please contact our office by phone at (614) 466-3555 between 8:00 AM and 5:00 PM Monday thru Friday. We will work with our executives agencies to reply to your message as promptly as possible.
Again, thank you for writing.
Ted Strickland,
Governor
Dear Governor Strickland,
My friend and I recently made a very long, and enjoyable road trip circumnavigating the United States. We stopped in every Visitor’s Center that was open as we came into a new state, and in each and every one we were greeted with smiles and welcomes – until we entered Ohio.
We traveled with ‘Flat Stanlietta’ – a female version of Flat Stanley – and all the Official Greeters were eager to hear about Flat Stanlietta, and her travels, and gave her, and also us, ideas of where to go, what to see, then gave her bookmarks, or whatever freebies they had. Except the Official Greeters in Ohio.
When we crossed over the Pennsylvania border into Ohio and entered the Visitor’s Information Center, there were two women behind the counter. One sat as far away from the counter as she could and glowered at us as she ate her lunch. She did not put her food down, apologize for eating on duty or for lack of a break room; she did not offer to help--she just kept eating, and glowering. The other, somewhat younger one, was on her cell phone, and she was NOT happy that I had the temerity to stand at the counter to request information. With a great theatrical sigh, she asked her friend if s/he could hold the phone for a bit, as someone was there. She did put down her phone, and she did give us a map and some information, but she was not pleased that we had interrupted her phone call!
There were no smiles of welcome, there was no warmth, or kindness at all. These women are the Official Greeters to the State of Ohio, and we couldn’t wait to get out of their domain – and across and out of the state!
Fortunately, the grounds keeper outside smiled and greeted us, and I told him how positively rude the women had been. My friend and I had not planned on taking the Turnpike—we like the Blue Highways – but we decided the Turnpike would be the quickest way out of Ohio, so we took it. We did meet a Greeter, Tom, at one of the rest areas (at about mile post 100). He, though, works for the Turnpike system, not the State.
I understand that these women probably come under the domain of the Ohio Tourist Bureau, and not your office; however, they are representing YOU. I tried to call the Tourist Bureau, but could not find a contact phone number in the Tourist magazine Tom gave me. I did find a phone number but the person who answered the phone only wanted to mail me information, he did not want to take any comments.
In our two months of travels, we only met three impolite and rude people. One was in a restaurant in Arizona—one my friend’s family frequented until the incident, and shall not return to--and the other two are your Official Representatives welcoming visitors to your state.
Please be advised a copy of this letter, and any response I may receive, will be posted on my blog.
Sincerely,
Lenora R. Good
http://roadtripsandmore.blogspot.com
As I said in the letter, any responses I may receive will also be posted.
Here is the first response, obviously an automatic one:
Thank you for contacting the Office of Governor Ted Strickland.
You email message is important to us. If your email includes time sensitive information, please contact our office by phone at (614) 466-3555 between 8:00 AM and 5:00 PM Monday thru Friday. We will work with our executives agencies to reply to your message as promptly as possible.
Again, thank you for writing.
Ted Strickland,
Governor
Sunday, May 17, 2009
I'm Home........
Once again, I’m playing ‘catch-up’ – but it’s the last time for this trip! Honest. Trust me!!
Photos at:
http://web.mac.com/goodlenora/iWeb/Site/Library%2019.html
(Library 19)
We left Kay K’s yesterday, about noon. It rained on and off during the morning, preceded by thunderstorms which I slept through.
New Jersey is a beautiful state, and we enjoyed driving up Highway 206 until we turned left onto I-80. We stopped at the Tuscani Bistro in a small town, the name of which neither of us can remember, but the food was delicious. (BTW, I asked the owner if “Tuscany” is pronounced “Tus CAHN i” per a certain commercial seen on TV, of if it’s pronounced “Tuskeni”. It’s the latter.)
Once on I-80, we still enjoyed the countryside but at a much higher rate of speed. When we reached Pennsylvania, we were greeted with a toll booth. I asked the gentlemen what the toll was for the whole state (I didn’t want to be nickel and dimed to death en route and not have enough nickels and or dimes) – it was $.75 for the whole state! I figured I could afford that ;-)
We drove to Clearview and decided that was far enough for the night, and got a hotel room. Just for grins, I went through the phone book looking for relatives (none), but when I closed the phone book I noticed we were in the same area as Punxsutawney and Phil, so this morning, Kay and I drove there, and saw Phil and his mate – they live in a special area of the Library – then we drove up to Gobbler’s Knob, where he makes his annual prediction.
Visiting Punxsutawney is like, well, visiting Punxsutawney. Both my twin and I were born on 2 Feb, so it’s almost obligatory to stop and see Phil if one is close enough to do so. Fortunately, I was. Phil was not impressed. But, I was;-)
Punxsutawney is a real example of small town America. The statue of the Seneca Indian warrior was donated by a high school senior who raised the money for him. Of course, there are statues of Phil all over the place, and on the road going up to Gobbler’s Knob, there are white footprints from Phil. The school metal work’s class has made and donated several items to Gobbler’s Knob, and, I imagine, other places.
After leaving Punxsutawney, we headed back to I-80 and eventually reached Ohio. The first stop was the Ohio Visitor’s Information Center just over the state line. The rest rooms were clean, and the grounds keeper friendly. I mention those two good points because when I get home, I’m writing the Governor of Ohio a letter explaining the bad points!
The people who greet at these stations are, literally, the face of the state. They are they official greeters and welcomers. Of the two women who greeted us to Ohio, one:
1. Fed her face. She sat behind the counter, over by the window, and glared at us as she stuffed food into her face. She made no effort to excuse herself, to go to a break area to eat, or even to put down her food, apologize for eating in front of us, and she certainly couldn’t come to help us. She ate and glowered.
2. The second talked on her cell phone. When I had the temerity to stand at the counter, she gave a pout and asked if the person she was talking to could wait a few minutes, then asked me what I wanted. I had interrupted her and she was not pleased. She did answer my questions but was not at all happy and did so only with grudging “I got to do it” attitude.
Fortunately, when we left, the grounds keeper smiled so I know that all people in Ohio weren’t grudges and or glowering people. Unfortunately, I’d already formed the opinion that I just wanted to get the heck across Ohio and away from these rude people!
So, Kay and I opted to spend the $9.25 to drive on the Ohio Turnpike and get the heck outa Dodge ASAP! We stopped for a bathroom break at the Service Plaza at about mile post 100. Since we couldn’t leave the Pike without paying, they put gas stations, and food courts about every 30-40 miles. Anyhow, in this visitor’s center we met Tom, a delightful representative for the state – except, he works for the Ohio Turnpike people, not the State. Too bad. Had he been the ‘official’ greeter when we entered the state, we’d have a whole different attitude about Ohio.
We’re not really sure what the $9.25 toll goes for, it certainly doesn’t go for keeping the Interstate in excellent condition. Does anyone out there know why our freeways, i.e., interstates, are toll? I thought turnpikes were toll, but interstates were freeways and therefore ‘free.’ Guess I thunk wrong, huh?
We continued to drive, and instead of taking I-80/90 to Chicago, and paying more money to Indiana, we got off just before the state line, and took I-69 south to Ft. Wayne, where we are currently ensconced in La Quinta. Tomorrow, we shall head down I-69 a few more miles, take a right on highway 30 and head toward the south of Chicago. We might make it as far as Omaha, if we’re lucky, and there are no tornadoes or horrid hail storms ;-)
Gas has gone up to about $2.25-$2.30/gal now. I understand it went up 17c overnight in Florida. Guess it’s May – Mother’s Day is Sunday, and then in a couple weeks is Memorial Day, so the summer gas prices are upon us.
Gas prices going up, tolls on the interstates, grumpy greeters, one thing is for sure, we aren’t bored! For the most part, we’ve met some really great folks on this trip. I’d say about 99% of the ones we’ve met are great. They’re friendly, helpful, cheerful. This morning in Punxsy’s town, the gal in the grocery store walked me out and showed me where the library was, rather than just tell me. I’ll visit Pennsylvania again, if I get the chance! Especially if it means I can visit Princeton, too;-)
I forgot the name of the town we stayed in, but think it was Des Moines, but I couldn’t get connected to the Wi Fi, which is why this one, the last of the Trip Blogs, is long, and ‘catch up’
At any rate, going through Iowa, I saw a sign for Amana Colonies, so, of course, we turned right, and drove through the seven Amana Colonies. The first stop was the Quilt Store. I was quite surprised at all the ‘modern’ fabrics and ‘busy’ quilts. Didn’t seem a bit Amish to me! However, I did find some fabric, and a pattern to buy. Next stop was the Visitor’s Center, where the lady, who was quite friendly and obviously not from Ohio (by the way, I have lots of friendly family in Canton, Ohio-or they were friendly when I met them years ago. By now, who knows?) showed us the map, and pointed out the wineries. Yes, plural. I expressed amazement that the Amish could make wine, at which point she laughed.
It seems that over 75% of the people who come through there think the Amana Colonies were Amish. They were not, and are not. They are a Protestant group, breakaway from Lutheran (probably under the broad umbrella of ‘Anabaptist’ which includes several other breakaways, but I’m not positive). Anyhow, do a search on Amana, Amana Colonies, Amana Religion, etc. if you want more information.,
We did stop off at one of the bakeries and bought one of the best loafs of Black Forest Rye Bread I’ve ever had, and stopped at a couple of wineries, and bought a couple bottles of very good wine. One Shiraz and one Merlot. I, of course, had to try the Catawba wine. It is made from the Catawba grape, not by the Catawba Indians. It is a white wine, and very, very sweet. I prefer my red, and love the Cabernets!
We eventually turned north on I-29 heading toward Fargo. Somewhere along the way, I remembered I’d always wanted to visit Pipestone, MN, so we took a short side trip to Pipestone. This is a National Monument, where the red stone is quarried (by Indians, only) and carved into the ‘peace’ pipes. The stone is soft (about the hardness of fingernails), red, and the Indians make pipes, amulets, etc. from it. Pipes ranged in price from $19.00 up into the hundreds, depending on the size and the carving. Each piece is signed by the artist, and when you buy something you get a bio of the artist, and information about the piece.
From Pipestone, we went on to Fargo, where we stayed a few days with one of Kay’s friends, Donna. Donna is a good friend with Kay’s kids, as they all went to school together, and we met up with her while we were at Mark and Terry’s in Scottsdale. It was then she invited us to stay a while when we came through, and I’m really glad we did. There was room in her garage for Suvie as well as her truck, and so both vehicles were safely tucked away when we had the hail storm!
Donna is a lot of fun, and though she had to work while we were there, that was OK as we had laundry to do, and Kay had other friends and family to visit.
From Fargo, we headed north to Highway 2. Our original goal was to take Hwy 2 across into Washington, with a slight detour through Glacier.
When we got to Rugby, the weather was pretty well socked in, and we were fighting head winds. Rugby is the Geographical center of North America, but the weather was too lousy to get out and take too many photos, but I managed a few before we left for Minot. We fought headwinds the whole way, and watched the Average Miles Per Gallon indicator in Suvie go from 25.8 to 18.9! She’s now back up where she belongs;-)
Have you ever been to Minot? It’s called “The Magic City” and when I asked why, no one could tell me, though one person thought it got the name because nothing was there, the military moved in, and ‘overnight’ a city was born.
The next morning was cold. There would have been frost on the pumpkin had there been a pumpkin, instead, there was ice on the car! Kay scraped ice while I checked us out of the hotel, and we kept on down the highway. Alas, there was a funny little light on the dash telling us the tire pressure was low. We stopped and checked and the tires looked ok, but there just ain’t no Subaru Dealers out on highway two, so we kept going. (There weren’t any full service gas station/garages, either!) We stopped at a place in Williston to use their phone book to find (hopefully) a Subaru dealer. No such luck. However, the gal wanted to know what the problem was, and we told her. She checked the tire pressure, and the tires were exactly where they should have been, so I thought it would be safe to go on.
In the meantime, Kay called Glacier National Park, and yes indeed, they were open, all the roads were open, for 2-3 miles, except the main, scenic one which was closed. We decided to turn Right at Williston and go through the Roosevelt National Park to I-94. Of course, the road through the Park was closed, so we drove down the blue highway until we got on I-94.
Montana is like Texas. It takes forever to drive through it! There is a whole lot of sky, and a whole lot of land! We made it to Bozeman before stopping. We’d been rained on, and the sky looked pretty bad. The next morning, Kay called 511 (road reports) and discovered that I-90 had some construction between Bozeman and Spokane. She also called on Hwy 12, which we considered taking out of Missoula. Alas, it seemed to have more construction, and we couldn’t find out what the weather was doing in the mountains, so we opted to head on out on the Freeway (note: it is a FREEway, not a TOLLway! meow!!) and were back to my house by 3pm on Friday.
We must have crossed the Yellowstone River a dozen times, and then we crossed the Clark Fork at least that often. Unfortunately, there aren’t too many places to pull out on the freeways to take photos as there are on the Blue Highways.
We missed most of the construction. There were some areas where it was marked, but no people and no barriers. There were a couple places where it was down to one lane, but the traffic was light, and we zipped right on through at the posted speed limit.
I must admit, I love eastern Montana, and the Plains States – they are a lot like the Palouse region of Eastern Washington – lots of wide open spaces, in places mountains or hills to be seen in the distance, but not crowding me. I could live in Eastern Montana, but the operative word is ‘could’. I don’t want to move. Ever again. I love my house and my town.
We drove 11,500 miles on this trip, about 70% on the ‘Blue Highways;’ we saw lots of beautiful places and met many, many nice people—honest hotel maids, helpful strangers, fun friends and family...but, as Dorothy so eloquently said:
There is no place like home!
Photos at:
http://web.mac.com/goodlenora/iWeb/Site/Library%2019.html
(Library 19)
We left Kay K’s yesterday, about noon. It rained on and off during the morning, preceded by thunderstorms which I slept through.
New Jersey is a beautiful state, and we enjoyed driving up Highway 206 until we turned left onto I-80. We stopped at the Tuscani Bistro in a small town, the name of which neither of us can remember, but the food was delicious. (BTW, I asked the owner if “Tuscany” is pronounced “Tus CAHN i” per a certain commercial seen on TV, of if it’s pronounced “Tuskeni”. It’s the latter.)
Once on I-80, we still enjoyed the countryside but at a much higher rate of speed. When we reached Pennsylvania, we were greeted with a toll booth. I asked the gentlemen what the toll was for the whole state (I didn’t want to be nickel and dimed to death en route and not have enough nickels and or dimes) – it was $.75 for the whole state! I figured I could afford that ;-)
We drove to Clearview and decided that was far enough for the night, and got a hotel room. Just for grins, I went through the phone book looking for relatives (none), but when I closed the phone book I noticed we were in the same area as Punxsutawney and Phil, so this morning, Kay and I drove there, and saw Phil and his mate – they live in a special area of the Library – then we drove up to Gobbler’s Knob, where he makes his annual prediction.
Visiting Punxsutawney is like, well, visiting Punxsutawney. Both my twin and I were born on 2 Feb, so it’s almost obligatory to stop and see Phil if one is close enough to do so. Fortunately, I was. Phil was not impressed. But, I was;-)
Punxsutawney is a real example of small town America. The statue of the Seneca Indian warrior was donated by a high school senior who raised the money for him. Of course, there are statues of Phil all over the place, and on the road going up to Gobbler’s Knob, there are white footprints from Phil. The school metal work’s class has made and donated several items to Gobbler’s Knob, and, I imagine, other places.
After leaving Punxsutawney, we headed back to I-80 and eventually reached Ohio. The first stop was the Ohio Visitor’s Information Center just over the state line. The rest rooms were clean, and the grounds keeper friendly. I mention those two good points because when I get home, I’m writing the Governor of Ohio a letter explaining the bad points!
The people who greet at these stations are, literally, the face of the state. They are they official greeters and welcomers. Of the two women who greeted us to Ohio, one:
1. Fed her face. She sat behind the counter, over by the window, and glared at us as she stuffed food into her face. She made no effort to excuse herself, to go to a break area to eat, or even to put down her food, apologize for eating in front of us, and she certainly couldn’t come to help us. She ate and glowered.
2. The second talked on her cell phone. When I had the temerity to stand at the counter, she gave a pout and asked if the person she was talking to could wait a few minutes, then asked me what I wanted. I had interrupted her and she was not pleased. She did answer my questions but was not at all happy and did so only with grudging “I got to do it” attitude.
Fortunately, when we left, the grounds keeper smiled so I know that all people in Ohio weren’t grudges and or glowering people. Unfortunately, I’d already formed the opinion that I just wanted to get the heck across Ohio and away from these rude people!
So, Kay and I opted to spend the $9.25 to drive on the Ohio Turnpike and get the heck outa Dodge ASAP! We stopped for a bathroom break at the Service Plaza at about mile post 100. Since we couldn’t leave the Pike without paying, they put gas stations, and food courts about every 30-40 miles. Anyhow, in this visitor’s center we met Tom, a delightful representative for the state – except, he works for the Ohio Turnpike people, not the State. Too bad. Had he been the ‘official’ greeter when we entered the state, we’d have a whole different attitude about Ohio.
We’re not really sure what the $9.25 toll goes for, it certainly doesn’t go for keeping the Interstate in excellent condition. Does anyone out there know why our freeways, i.e., interstates, are toll? I thought turnpikes were toll, but interstates were freeways and therefore ‘free.’ Guess I thunk wrong, huh?
We continued to drive, and instead of taking I-80/90 to Chicago, and paying more money to Indiana, we got off just before the state line, and took I-69 south to Ft. Wayne, where we are currently ensconced in La Quinta. Tomorrow, we shall head down I-69 a few more miles, take a right on highway 30 and head toward the south of Chicago. We might make it as far as Omaha, if we’re lucky, and there are no tornadoes or horrid hail storms ;-)
Gas has gone up to about $2.25-$2.30/gal now. I understand it went up 17c overnight in Florida. Guess it’s May – Mother’s Day is Sunday, and then in a couple weeks is Memorial Day, so the summer gas prices are upon us.
Gas prices going up, tolls on the interstates, grumpy greeters, one thing is for sure, we aren’t bored! For the most part, we’ve met some really great folks on this trip. I’d say about 99% of the ones we’ve met are great. They’re friendly, helpful, cheerful. This morning in Punxsy’s town, the gal in the grocery store walked me out and showed me where the library was, rather than just tell me. I’ll visit Pennsylvania again, if I get the chance! Especially if it means I can visit Princeton, too;-)
I forgot the name of the town we stayed in, but think it was Des Moines, but I couldn’t get connected to the Wi Fi, which is why this one, the last of the Trip Blogs, is long, and ‘catch up’
At any rate, going through Iowa, I saw a sign for Amana Colonies, so, of course, we turned right, and drove through the seven Amana Colonies. The first stop was the Quilt Store. I was quite surprised at all the ‘modern’ fabrics and ‘busy’ quilts. Didn’t seem a bit Amish to me! However, I did find some fabric, and a pattern to buy. Next stop was the Visitor’s Center, where the lady, who was quite friendly and obviously not from Ohio (by the way, I have lots of friendly family in Canton, Ohio-or they were friendly when I met them years ago. By now, who knows?) showed us the map, and pointed out the wineries. Yes, plural. I expressed amazement that the Amish could make wine, at which point she laughed.
It seems that over 75% of the people who come through there think the Amana Colonies were Amish. They were not, and are not. They are a Protestant group, breakaway from Lutheran (probably under the broad umbrella of ‘Anabaptist’ which includes several other breakaways, but I’m not positive). Anyhow, do a search on Amana, Amana Colonies, Amana Religion, etc. if you want more information.,
We did stop off at one of the bakeries and bought one of the best loafs of Black Forest Rye Bread I’ve ever had, and stopped at a couple of wineries, and bought a couple bottles of very good wine. One Shiraz and one Merlot. I, of course, had to try the Catawba wine. It is made from the Catawba grape, not by the Catawba Indians. It is a white wine, and very, very sweet. I prefer my red, and love the Cabernets!
We eventually turned north on I-29 heading toward Fargo. Somewhere along the way, I remembered I’d always wanted to visit Pipestone, MN, so we took a short side trip to Pipestone. This is a National Monument, where the red stone is quarried (by Indians, only) and carved into the ‘peace’ pipes. The stone is soft (about the hardness of fingernails), red, and the Indians make pipes, amulets, etc. from it. Pipes ranged in price from $19.00 up into the hundreds, depending on the size and the carving. Each piece is signed by the artist, and when you buy something you get a bio of the artist, and information about the piece.
From Pipestone, we went on to Fargo, where we stayed a few days with one of Kay’s friends, Donna. Donna is a good friend with Kay’s kids, as they all went to school together, and we met up with her while we were at Mark and Terry’s in Scottsdale. It was then she invited us to stay a while when we came through, and I’m really glad we did. There was room in her garage for Suvie as well as her truck, and so both vehicles were safely tucked away when we had the hail storm!
Donna is a lot of fun, and though she had to work while we were there, that was OK as we had laundry to do, and Kay had other friends and family to visit.
From Fargo, we headed north to Highway 2. Our original goal was to take Hwy 2 across into Washington, with a slight detour through Glacier.
When we got to Rugby, the weather was pretty well socked in, and we were fighting head winds. Rugby is the Geographical center of North America, but the weather was too lousy to get out and take too many photos, but I managed a few before we left for Minot. We fought headwinds the whole way, and watched the Average Miles Per Gallon indicator in Suvie go from 25.8 to 18.9! She’s now back up where she belongs;-)
Have you ever been to Minot? It’s called “The Magic City” and when I asked why, no one could tell me, though one person thought it got the name because nothing was there, the military moved in, and ‘overnight’ a city was born.
The next morning was cold. There would have been frost on the pumpkin had there been a pumpkin, instead, there was ice on the car! Kay scraped ice while I checked us out of the hotel, and we kept on down the highway. Alas, there was a funny little light on the dash telling us the tire pressure was low. We stopped and checked and the tires looked ok, but there just ain’t no Subaru Dealers out on highway two, so we kept going. (There weren’t any full service gas station/garages, either!) We stopped at a place in Williston to use their phone book to find (hopefully) a Subaru dealer. No such luck. However, the gal wanted to know what the problem was, and we told her. She checked the tire pressure, and the tires were exactly where they should have been, so I thought it would be safe to go on.
In the meantime, Kay called Glacier National Park, and yes indeed, they were open, all the roads were open, for 2-3 miles, except the main, scenic one which was closed. We decided to turn Right at Williston and go through the Roosevelt National Park to I-94. Of course, the road through the Park was closed, so we drove down the blue highway until we got on I-94.
Montana is like Texas. It takes forever to drive through it! There is a whole lot of sky, and a whole lot of land! We made it to Bozeman before stopping. We’d been rained on, and the sky looked pretty bad. The next morning, Kay called 511 (road reports) and discovered that I-90 had some construction between Bozeman and Spokane. She also called on Hwy 12, which we considered taking out of Missoula. Alas, it seemed to have more construction, and we couldn’t find out what the weather was doing in the mountains, so we opted to head on out on the Freeway (note: it is a FREEway, not a TOLLway! meow!!) and were back to my house by 3pm on Friday.
We must have crossed the Yellowstone River a dozen times, and then we crossed the Clark Fork at least that often. Unfortunately, there aren’t too many places to pull out on the freeways to take photos as there are on the Blue Highways.
We missed most of the construction. There were some areas where it was marked, but no people and no barriers. There were a couple places where it was down to one lane, but the traffic was light, and we zipped right on through at the posted speed limit.
I must admit, I love eastern Montana, and the Plains States – they are a lot like the Palouse region of Eastern Washington – lots of wide open spaces, in places mountains or hills to be seen in the distance, but not crowding me. I could live in Eastern Montana, but the operative word is ‘could’. I don’t want to move. Ever again. I love my house and my town.
We drove 11,500 miles on this trip, about 70% on the ‘Blue Highways;’ we saw lots of beautiful places and met many, many nice people—honest hotel maids, helpful strangers, fun friends and family...but, as Dorothy so eloquently said:
There is no place like home!
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