We reached the geographical zenith as well as the pinnacle of all that we hold dear when gathered with all of Sue's brothers and sisters and their families in and around Anacortes, Washington this August. But all too quickly the currents of time an obligations swept us all away, dispersing us back to our well-worn worldly niches carved in disparate places by our careers and a multitude of other bonds. It was time to return, and for us, that meant backtracking to the southeast. Texas or bust.
Sally caught a ride back to Sea-Tac Airport with us, and both Sue and sister Sally were dropped off at curbside mid-morning. Sue had a one-way ticket back to Dallas, reasoning the expense of plane fare was worth defraying time away from her job where schedules had to be met, programs planned and all those things that needed attention that could not bear the allotted time for overland travel. We let the elder two Cook sisters to chat for a few hours more before they boarded the Boeing. Meanwhile Grant and I had the evening's stopover planned for my sister Sheri's outside of Boise, Idaho. Grant too had lobbied for air fare back to Dallas, rather than endure a road trip across the Rockies and through the southern plains. He said, that he needed the time to get packed and ready for college which was coming in about a week's time for him. Fair enough. I bought Grant a plane ticket from Boise to Dallas so he could have a few days to recalibrate at home before leaving. With only me to drive back to Dallas, I too recalibrated and made plans to swing into Montana to spend a couple of days with my parents before driving hell-bent-for-leather to make it home. I left for Montana the next morning, while Grant spent an extra day in Bosie before he was driven by Aunt Sheri to the airport.
Sheri watched from behind the TSA checkpoint and satisfied herself that Grant had been removed from the Do-Not-Fly security list and that he was not caught smuggling a water bottle or more than 2.1 ounces of toothpaste onto the plane. Grant had a scheduled layover in Salt Lake City before arriving in Dallas, but once on the plane, the passenger address system was not working, so the plane was not allowed to leave the gate. Grant was then eventually placed on another flight that took him through LA before reaching Dallas about 5 hours later than planned. At least it was not nearly as bad as Uncle Bill, who left Seattle for Oklahoma City, only to be deplaned in Denver and told that his airline no longer had a scheduled flight to OKC. So they would put him up in a hotel for a night and 2 days and then fly him to his ticketed destination. Outrageous.
I made it to the folk's place in Montana in pretty good time. I told them I did not want any entertainment or tours scheduled, just a chance to hang out and cool my jets with them for two days. I was sorry that I was unable to meet up with my Aunt Margie and Uncle Norm from Virginia who were in the area (Missoula) visiting their daughter, but by the time arrangements could be made for them to get to Polson, I was already on the road back to Texas. The one request I made was to go out to Kerr Dam and see if torrents of water were still flooding over the gates due to Montana's very wet Spring.
Sally caught a ride back to Sea-Tac Airport with us, and both Sue and sister Sally were dropped off at curbside mid-morning. Sue had a one-way ticket back to Dallas, reasoning the expense of plane fare was worth defraying time away from her job where schedules had to be met, programs planned and all those things that needed attention that could not bear the allotted time for overland travel. We let the elder two Cook sisters to chat for a few hours more before they boarded the Boeing. Meanwhile Grant and I had the evening's stopover planned for my sister Sheri's outside of Boise, Idaho. Grant too had lobbied for air fare back to Dallas, rather than endure a road trip across the Rockies and through the southern plains. He said, that he needed the time to get packed and ready for college which was coming in about a week's time for him. Fair enough. I bought Grant a plane ticket from Boise to Dallas so he could have a few days to recalibrate at home before leaving. With only me to drive back to Dallas, I too recalibrated and made plans to swing into Montana to spend a couple of days with my parents before driving hell-bent-for-leather to make it home. I left for Montana the next morning, while Grant spent an extra day in Bosie before he was driven by Aunt Sheri to the airport.
Sheri watched from behind the TSA checkpoint and satisfied herself that Grant had been removed from the Do-Not-Fly security list and that he was not caught smuggling a water bottle or more than 2.1 ounces of toothpaste onto the plane. Grant had a scheduled layover in Salt Lake City before arriving in Dallas, but once on the plane, the passenger address system was not working, so the plane was not allowed to leave the gate. Grant was then eventually placed on another flight that took him through LA before reaching Dallas about 5 hours later than planned. At least it was not nearly as bad as Uncle Bill, who left Seattle for Oklahoma City, only to be deplaned in Denver and told that his airline no longer had a scheduled flight to OKC. So they would put him up in a hotel for a night and 2 days and then fly him to his ticketed destination. Outrageous.
I made it to the folk's place in Montana in pretty good time. I told them I did not want any entertainment or tours scheduled, just a chance to hang out and cool my jets with them for two days. I was sorry that I was unable to meet up with my Aunt Margie and Uncle Norm from Virginia who were in the area (Missoula) visiting their daughter, but by the time arrangements could be made for them to get to Polson, I was already on the road back to Texas. The one request I made was to go out to Kerr Dam and see if torrents of water were still flooding over the gates due to Montana's very wet Spring.
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| The view downstream from Kerr on the Flathead River in Polson, Montana Note: The white bluffs and hoodoos composed of "glacial flower" that was once the bottom of Lake Missoula a Pleistocene lake formed behind a glacier blocking its natural flow into the Columbia River Basin. When Lake Missoula did burst through the glacial ice dam, it created a flood 800 feet deep of spectacular power |
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| My parents at the Kerr Dam Overlook |
The deluge flowing over the dam had subsided by the time of year I got there, but it was a nice drive out into the Flathead Valley farmland. We drove around looking for the Buffalo Bridge that crossed the river and would take us back home, but could not find the crossing. But we did make it back home in time to cook up a fresh trout dinner, supplied by the neighbor's grand kids who like catching, but not so much eating. I loaded on a few extra treasure from my parents house, including four quart jars filled with rhubarb-raspberry jam. Beebop-A-Reebop Rhubarb! Some stuff is just worth driving a few thousand miles for (currently we have one-half a jar left).
On your short list of things handy to have; put this item: A good friend or family member who lives in Denver. When we briefly lived in Denver, we were frequently delighted and blessed to have somebody stop by and look us up. Now my niece Lisa has a job and a place in Denver. So, my travel plans were Western Montana to Denver Day 1, Denver to Dallas, Day 2. Simple. Outside Casper, Wyoming, I planned to give Lisa a call to let her know when to expect me. But my cell phone was mysteriously dead and I didn't have a carjack charger for it. In Douglas I stopped for gas, and inquired about the possible whereabouts of a Wal-Mart to get a recharger for my phone. The manager lady said "We don't have a Wal-Mart here, but we have Wal-Mart lite, it is call Pamida, be we refer to it as 'plum outa'". I laughed sincerely at her joke, and they she asked what kind of phone I had. I told her Verizon. So she gave me directions to a Verizon store, and I got there 10 minutes before they closed. And then I had plenty of miles of prairie to pass through my windshield while I got the phone recharged.
Drive south on I-25 across the gently undulating prairie that was a sea of green tinged with yellow of the coming Fall, I enjoyed the rhythmic swaying of my 4Runner as I scanned the broad blue horizon. It felt for all the watery world that I was truly sailing over a sea of grass and feeling the rolling waves of land as the road rose and fell before me as I surveyed the unbroken horizon. I loved the feeling of sailing through Wyoming, having my eyes splashed with the yellow-green hues of the prairie grass expanse beneath the blue horizon fading toward sunset.
With my recharged phone, I called Lisa to confirm my late arrival and she warned that parking around her place could be tough. Most parking spaces were assigned with posted tow-away warnings, though a lot of cars were parked illegally along the curb across the street. I decided to take my chances and park late at night and leave early in the morning, hoping I would not be towed en mass or get the Denver Boot (a device of heavy cast iron that the Denver PD locks to your car tire - until you pay a fine and an office unfetters your wheels). It was late, but I had just what I needed, a couch to lay upon, a chance to get a few hours sleep at the end of the day. I was quietly out the door around 7 AM, leaving Lisa my sincere thanks and leaving her undisturbed on a Saturday morning.
I was home Saturday night. I would leave to take Grant to college in Columbia, Missouri on Tuesday.
I had navigated our own Northwest Passage and recorded these passages on this blog. It was good.
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