Roadblocks

So, it has been nine years since we last crossed the country by car and now, at a midpoint (Kansas feels very very very big right now), I can say that some things about cross-country travel have changed, while others remain woefully the same.

Since we're not moving our entire household this time around (it's just me, my bike and my clothes--I sent the books ahead), we have the luxury of taking things slow and not being fussed by cats in the car or specific day/arrival times. This has turned out to be important a few times already. I am excited to share all of the beauty that the national parks have painted into my memory, but (per usual) there are a number of photos to digest beforehand. Instead I digress, to consider the journey--rather than the destination(s).

We're taking the scenic route. Quite literally and purposefully.

On our first day of travel, we took a longer route, which diverted us away from the thunderstorm initiated wildfires of the high desert and down into a new area of open range that was new to us. As with all summer adventures involving paved road, you can expect construction, roadblocks and detours.

Eastern Oregon range land has always held a special place in my heart because you can expect (similar to myriad of other places in the world) to be stopped in favor of cattle crossing. Hanging out with cows and their wranglers is a great way to take a break from the car.

Upon our arrival in Idaho, we hit our first construction site (or so we thought)--a sign promised up to 30 minutes of waiting for access to the one-lane passage. After 90 minutes we thought we were being thoroughly abused by the Dept. of Transportation. It turned out, however, that there was a major accident at the construction site. Three hours later we followed a pilot car past the two semi-trucks that had been painstakingly cleared from the road.

Last night, we had flashbacks to our first cross-country trip together where, despite long hours of driving and a strong desire to sleep, we had to keep moving through the northern route to find a vacancy in the land of the motorcycle rally. It is the same time period, but we're on a middle route, which finds us, not in the company of harley enthusiasts, but a very large meeting of the national guard. I think we got the last room within a 90-minute radius. And so this morning, we slept in. I am now catching up with the world over wi-fi and a cup of coffee...getting ready to put this flat expanse of land behind us.