The 45th Parallel

After we got to TC, we slept in (interrupted briefly to take a picture of a lovely sunrise), gave Maggie a special "welcome-to-TC" Cherry Capital Cookie for dogs (thanks, Mark), and headed up the peninsula. At the end is a lighthouse and an old log cabin, and a special sign explaining that we are on the 45th parallel. Also on the 45th parallel is Salem, Oregon! So I didn't feel so far away from home. :-)

We had a nice dinner at a place called "The Cook's House," where I finally had that cabernet awaiting me in TC.

Catching Up

Hello from TC, where it's been unseasonably warm! Beautiful, sunny weather has followed me all the way across the country these past 10 days...but I think my luck is about to change, as I see tomorrow's high is 52 (as opposed to 70 today), and snow is forecast for the weekend. Oh, well; it was great while it lasted.

Backing up a little bit to my last travel day, I want to comment that while I was completely happy and satisfied with Motel 6, Mom and I were forced to upgrade for our last night to La Quinta, the only pet-friendly place in Peru, Illinois. Wow! Though we really didn't need the iron and ironing board, and didn't use the fitness room or indoor pool, everything was just so NICE! It was definitely a treat to spoil ourselves. (Thanks for the link to pet-friendly places, Allison.)

Heading out from Peru, we stopped at Starved Rock, a beautiful and interesting rocky outcropping/state park near Ottawa, Illinois. Mom used to go there a lot with her crazy friends when they all lived in Ottawa, and they would climb straight up the side. Legend has it that a bunch of Illini Indians retreated to the top of the rock while being chased by the Ottawa Indians, and they preferred to starve up there rather than the surrender. Eventually, the Ottawa came up and finished off what was left of them, and then some European explorers happened by, saw the carnage, and the story became known. Another story about this rock involves a beautiful young Indian maiden throwing herself off it when her true love took up with someone else.

No one knows what really happened, but it makes for some interesting tales. And, by the way, the Illini Indians were being chased by the Ottawa because one of them had killed Chief Pontiac, the leader of the Ottawas. So I guess they really shouldn't have done that in the first place.

After Starved Rock, Mom and I took a trip down Mom's Memory Lane in Ottawa, Illinois. We wanted to locate the schools where she had taught, and my secret agenda was to see the church where my mom and dad got married. (I didn't know if Mom would want to see it given the state of the union that followed.)

We wandered around town in the car and almost immediately found Lincoln School, where Mom had taught third grade. It was quite a bit bigger than she remembered it. More wandering, and we found ourselves at a park in the middle of town. Mom recognized this as the park in which Lincoln and Douglas had their famous first debate. We walked around and enjoyed the beautiful fall colors and foliage, and Mom was surprised to see a huge fountain in the middle of the park with two statues in gold of Lincoln and Douglas. She was SURE that they were originally on the side of the park, and not in a fountain.

Eventually we found the site of the original monument. A large boulder marks the exact spot where the debate really took place, next to two now-empty bases for statues. So Mom was vindicated, and quite satisfied that her memory is still intact.

As we left the park, we looked up and across the street, and what did we see but Christ Episcopal Church. Yes, right across from the park was the church where my mom and dad got married. I took a picture and after one comment about yep, right here is where it happened, we moved on. Relatively painless, after all.

You know, the wedding of your parents takes on mythic proportions when you're a kid. You see the wedding photos in their special albums with the pearly white covers...your mom is all dressed up, your dad is dapper, both of them are impossibly young. You've looked at them so many times, so it's kind of amazing to see the site where all of this actually occurred.

Anyway, we'd found one of Mom's schools, but not the other two. After some fruitless wandering up and down the streets of Ottawa, we looked for someone to ask, preferably someone old. We hit gold with a guy in a quick mart who remembered both of Mom's other schools and told us neither one of them existed anymore. One of them is a park, and one is a low-income housing high-rise. We managed to find the site of the old Washington School (now park) with the help of another senior citizen resident, snapped a pic, and left town contented.

We stayed that night with Judy, a friend of Mom's from a trip she took to China a few years ago. Thanks to both Judy and her dog, Chelsea, for making all of us welcome!

P.S. Picture number two is of me touching a mammoth tooth at the Starved Rock Visitor Center, over 10,000 years old (the tooth, not the visitor center). Oooooh!

WE MADE IT!

Two tired people and one well-traveled dog made it all the way to the pinky of the mitten tonight!

More later...

You CAN Go Home Again

Today I went to Hickory Hill Park in Iowa City with my friend Mary, my mom, and Maggie. I hadn't been back in 9 years, since I see no point in walking in a park without a dog and I haven't had my dogs with me on previous visits. It was so wonderful to be there, to walk along the hills and dales and creeks and wooded paths that I spent countless hours traversing when I lived in Iowa City. When I first moved to town, I would go into the park and purposely get lost, wandering around until I eventually saw something familiar and could find my way out. This adventuring lasted about six months, after which I pretty much knew every part of the park....but it remained my wonderful oasis; my place to think and walk and relish being outdoors with my dogs. Here I composed stupid songs about how much Emily liked to chase rabbits and squirrels and then lie down in the creek, exhausted, lapping up water once she caught her breath. Here I skied in the winter and lay down in the snow, everything quiet, marveling that I was warm in the midst of all that frozen splendor. Always we stopped at some point during the walk, to change from moving through the environment to being a part of the environment. It was my mini-Thoreau experiment.

And always at the end, we'd get back to the parking lot, and I would open the door to the car and Emily would just stand there. And she would look at me, and back to the car, and then out at the park. And I would sigh and sit down on the curb by the open car door and say yes, I know it is very sad that we have to leave the park. And she'd come over and we'd sit there, side by side, lamenting that we couldn't just live at Hickory Hill, but gradually accepting the reality that we would indeed have to get in the car and go to our house. And after a few minutes, having made the transition from our wild, unfettered park selves to our civilized, house selves, I'd get up and Emily would hop in the car and we'd go home.

I heart you, Hickory Hill.

Nebraska Is Really Flat

Today Mom and I were headed east on I 80 when we saw a sign saying "Point of Interest, next right." We debated only a moment before deciding that, despite the lack of specific information, this was something we needed to see. (At 80 mph, there is only a moment to debate, anyway.)

The off-ramp circled around to a spot in between the two directions of traffic. We got out of the car, and it was windy windy windy. (No wonder we'd seen a bunch more windmills! I was glad I was not biking in the westerly direction.) A fenced-in area contained a few interpretive signs, and we went in to read them. And this is how we found the tree growing out of a rock.

The signs also told us about the Sherman Mountains, which explained some interesting rock formations nearby. Of course we had to take some pictures.

The piles of blocky rock masses put me in mind of other things piled high, so I also took a picture of a mountain of a different sort: the mountain o' stuff in the car. (And stellar traveler Maggie! who, although you can't see it very well in the picture, actually has more room in the car than any of us.)

We motored on into Nebraska, stopping for a snack at a very well-appointed rest area. A lush lawn was dotted with concrete picnic tables, each protected by several brick walls (that wind again!). Each one also had its own trash can and a BARBECUE GRILL! I thought this was a little above and beyond. Mom complimented a guy working at the area on how nice everything was, thanking him for his efforts. He replied that it's pretty much a case of there not being anything else to do around there.

We lost an hour somewhere in Nebraska, so were suddenly transported from "in good shape for an early night" to "late for dinner and everything else." Oh, well. We're pretty happy here in another Motel 6, within reach of Iowa City for tomorrow, and Traverse City possibly Saturday!

1400 miles down, 900 to go.

Git Along, Li'l Dogies

Today we were up before the dawn. (Yes, me, before dawn!) We decided to save time by eating breakfast in our room at Motel 6, which, by the way, is a GREAT hotel. Only the things you need and none of the things you don't; clean, comfortable and economical. After taking Maggie for short walk, we were on our way by...8:45 a.m.

Well, if it's not the crack of dawn, at least it's not 7:30 p.m.!

We hadn't gone two miles before we were obligated to stop at a scenic overlook by the Snake River. We weren't very far from the site where Evil Knievel jumped over, Mom explained, adding that the spot he jumped over was much narrower. But just as deep! Looking down into the canyon, I really didn't think I would ever be interested in jumping over it on a motorcycle, no matter how narrow. But to each his own.

After that, we really did make some time. The speed limit is 75 around here, and loosely interpreted. We blasted past sagebrush, strange rock formations, lots of horses and cattle, and yes, two real live cowboys. Git along, little dogies! Too bad I couldn't get the camera out fast enough to take their pictures.

I did manage some pictures of the very stately and beautiful windmills, however...and some giant slabs of rock sticking out of a hill. This part of the country is full of interesting, strange, never-before-seen landforms for an east-coast/midwest girl. The drive I made from Iowa to Portland in 1999 was quite an experience, and I remember how amazed I was then. It's still amazing now.

I have to mention that the weather has been absolutely, unseasonably gorgeous. The highs are in the 60s and even low 70s. It's sunny and beautiful every day! I know we are incredibly lucky, and this was confirmed by a local resident who said normally around this time it's about 25 degrees. Oh, and that two weeks ago they had snow!

Even so, the weather IS holding us up a bit. It's so beautiful we are constantly tempted to stop and take pictures, and when we stop, we simply must sit a bit and take in the sun and the silence and the great, open expanse of scrabbly land and brilliant blue sky. It's tempting to just stay and BE...

but the Mitten awaits.

900 miles down, 1400 to go!

The Journey to the Mitten Begins

Yesterday, Mom and I set off for Michigan from Bend, Oregon. We were going to get an early start. Does 7:30 p.m. count as early? If so, we accomplished our goal.

We landed in Burns last night, 130 miles from Bend. At least we were out of town! And this morning, taking Maggie for a walk, we met the nicest people.

The booming metropolis of Burns, when combined with the nearby town of Hines, boasts a population of about 5,000. It's a pretty quiet, unassuming place in the middle of the eastern Oregon desert. So imagine my surprise when, upon commencing a chat over a triple-decker birdhouse in a neatly-cared-for front yard, it turned out that the owners of the house were from the Basque country in Spain!

Oh! I said. I've been there! and told them about biking from San Cristóbal to Bilbao, busting out my Spanish. Oh! they said. We lived in a town near Bilbao! Would you like to come in and see a picture?

Of course we would.

Well, the blistering pace we had intended to set for today went by the wayside, but we didn't mind. And when we finally left Burns, we only drove 55 miles before arriving in Juntura, home of "The Oasis," a place famous (with my mom) for its delicious, very chocolate-y milkshakes. Of course we had to stop there for lunch.

Then, as we made our way east on Highway 20, we found ourselves in Vale, surrounded by interesting murals depicting life in the town's early days. Of course we had to stop and walk around there, too, and take many pictures!

One stop to pick up a directory of Motel 6's (no pet fee!) and one rest stop later, and here we are in Twin Falls, Idaho.

300 miles for today...2000 to go!

TOMORROW we will set a blistering pace.