Day Fifteen: Bitter Cold to Bittersweet

It is so cold in Cheyenne that I have the over sized sweatshirt on over the layers of all the other clothes I brought in order to walk Louie in the snow. He is not entirely sure where to frolic and I am way behind slipping around.

There is the train that kept us up all night.

And the serene heartland to enjoy.

We have have lofty goals of getting to Kansas City today. I fuel up and am looking for coffee and find it free if I buy this,

So what is a girl to do. 

We enjoy the snow for miles and miles, then into Nebraska we can see for miles again and there is no more edge of the world. 

We stop off at different sights along the route; Buffalo Bills Ranch and the original Pony Express station; Louie likes that he can run around and I like the history. At the station a gentleman rides in on his Harley and I hope my lipstick is still on. He is wearing a ski mask and never takes it off; is this what Mary Chapin Carpenter means by a stranger's coat? He chats with me about the beauty of the park then we board our steeds and turns out he is going West and I am going East. Story of my life. 

Eventually I have to give in to the fact that Kansas City was just too lofty of a goal. So we pull off at the first hotel I see to borrow the WiFi and start to look for something a little more manageable. It ends up being Salina, KS; this will put me at three more hours of miles in the dark.

Driving in the dark unknown has my thoughts wander and overlap. I think about that women on CNN and wonder why no one tells her she shouldn't where her hair so big. I think about each leg of this journey and how I have grown to not immediately jump to melancholy but instead be at peace in the dark moments of life. They happen to everyone, and in that the highway becomes a common place. 

When I check into my hotel I realize it will probably the last of the journey as I am trying to get to Louisville to see my friend Anne for the last leg of the trip. Louie and I repeat the steps of check-in, run around, unload, kick-back. I write and read he washes and stretches out. What ever will we do when we get home. 

Eventually we will have to go there, and that is bittersweet. 

Recipes: Throw a banana in with that Cinabon and free coffee just to balance things out.

Roadtrips: Lonely highways in the dark is where we are most alike.

Renovations: I have to take what I am learning and apply it.

Day Fourteen: Over the Mountains and Through the Snow

When  I wake on day 14, Louie already had his leash on and finished his K&B breakfast. He knew we were by that park and had been dreaming of chasing geese all night. It was cold; so I break out the over sized Nantucket sweatshirt and put on the earmuffs; don the tennis shoes and we are off.

We start out at church. Then end up with a rush.

And as if Idaho Falls could not get any better there is oatmeal on the continental breakfast bar!

We scurry out to see more of Idaho...

...in route to today's destination.

We have mapped out a route to avoid Colorado because there is a storm dumping 2 feet of snow on them.  Our goal today is to get to Cheyenne, Wyoming by way of the Grand Tetons...

...which is by no means a straight shot.

When in the park, a ranger makes a dramatic entrance and pulls me over. At my car window he says he 'clocked me going a little fast'. As I sit scouting for moose while he writes up my warning, I wonder what the speed limit actually is. When he returns he tells me that the speed limit fluctuates throughout Teton County but it never goes over 55. He doesn't ever tell me what my speed was in what zone; which makes me think he has no idea what the speed limit is in this stretch either. 

I find myself elevating and though there are Beware of Wild Animal signs everywhere this park is not nearly as generous with the game as Yellowstone was. Before I know it, it is construction time again.

Once I can go SLOW, I notice the guard rails disappear and the edge of the mountain is in my throat. I feel my body heat rise, my hands are sweating on the wheel, and I am imagining the worst. 

Louie will accidentally open his door and plummet to the bottom of the Tetons; I will get distracted by a bear sighting and send us rolling end over end to the gloomy perspective that no one will come and get us silly tourists. Or worse yet, it is a Suicide Driver in the pilot car. The pavement disappears and it is just big truck full of dirt after big truck passing me on one side, and literally, the edge of the world on the other. I want to replace the Dixie Chicks with Chris Tomlin so I can feel God closer; but there is no way I am veering from 10 and 2. My hands start to cramp. 

Eventually it ends. 

Only to begin again. 

I don't realize until I hit the pillow in Cheyenne that this was only the second and third worse part of the drive. The best of the worst was yet to come.

Eventually, I release the death grips and enjoy some more of Wyoming.

Highway 287 gets me to Rawlins which eventually gets me to Laramie then all hell breaks loose. I have been lonely in the dark for a couple of hours now and have no idea what the landscape is like outside the scope of my headlights. There is a moment, almost instant, where I am in complete fog and have lost the taillights in front of me. Panic braking sets in and Louie senses danger and puts his paw in its place on my shoulder. I desperately want to pull off to the side and try to get my bearings but I remember the mountain with no shoulder and since I can't see 10 feet in front of me I just continue dash by dash. There are crosswinds that shake us from side to side as we pathetically scoot forward. 

As quickly as we happened upon this; the fog lifts and wind subsides; only to begin again and again and the pattern doesn't fool me twice. 

It feels like 14 days but I finally reach my exit. As I take my place at the light at the bottom of the hill this is what I see to my right:

So much for avoiding the snow storm. I mourn Colorado. 

I feel like my harrowing day deserves a glass of wine so I search convenient store after convenient store only to conclude the worst; surly to God this is not a dry town. Then I spot a sign reading Lounge and Package Liquor Store. When I go in there is a strong smell of downtown Athens Saturday night ally stench in the air. There are people hooking up in the Lounge and chicken wire and bars on the liquor in the Package. 

I opt for a brown bag size bottle of bourbon and the girl I thought was hooking up with a boy in a University of Wyoming sweatshirt comes to unlock the elixir. I am confused by the whole scenario. 

Louie and I slip and slide into our hotel room and my one shot of bourbon sends me dreaming of the great Midwest moments of my life. 

Recipes: Who can eat on a day like this!

Roadtrips: On the news tonight a trucker was being interviewed and he stated that the stretch from Laramie to Cheyenne is the worst and can really test even the most experienced drivers. No shit!

Renovations: I can conquer the edge of the mountain and the thick fog after all. 

Day Thirteen: Lunch with a Legend and Dinner with a River

My stamina is wearing thin on day thirteen. All I want to do is sleep but what a ridiculous thing to do when in Montana. So I slowly stumble to the kitchen for some coffee; the continental breakfast is sad as most of them have been. Would it kill them to put out a banana; an apple? Carbs everywhere. A bagel, an English muffin, a blueberry muffin, lucky charms. I pour the usual OJ and coffee with two creams and follow the whining sound back to my room. Louie is on day thirteen of this trip and he still hasn't figured out the routine. But he has been a perfect dog. Except today when he snapped at the guy changing my oil in Montana. Other then that he behaves, enjoys the scenery, drinks from the rivers and is my best friend. There are portions of the journey where he steadies himself by putting one paw on my shoulder and the other on the seat back. He will freeze in that position for hours and down the road of companionship we go.

This morning my friend Wynn has arranged for me to have some human contact.. Her friend Cliff is free for lunch. We meet in Livingston and he is funny and familiar. He helps me get my oil changed and we eat soup in town. He talks loud about people in the room, and says 'what's that?' a lot. So it is an entertaining time. He has to be in his sixties maybe and said 'I just want to bitch slap him' when talking about a character in his life. The volume alone gave me cause to want to laugh out loud but then on contemplation I don't think I have ever heard a retiree use those words so then I had no choice but to spew my water.

I feel like I can come back here again and again and Cliff will help me with my oil changes and help me find a place to stay and eat soup with me. I feel lucky.

Cliff gives me a route to take to Idaho Falls and I follow it to the letter. I am proud to say that in over 4000 miles traveled there can't be more then 500-600 miles traveled on an interstate. This route is no different. It is the lovely combination of all mine and no one's.

Louie and I stop for water at the Warm Springs Creek.

Then we make the last turn for Idaho Falls.

My hotel is right on the river and this is the first time I have arrived at my destination in the daylight. So, Louie and I follow yet another river route and when we return to the hotel we eat a bison burger and kibbles and bits. Then, we call it a good day 13!

Recipes: Hot soup and a story teller will always nourish you.

Roadtrips: I used to travel to the oceans, but now, I am drawn to the rivers.

Renovations: I am growing.

Day Twelve: 4000 Miles Rolled

The little KIA rolled its 4000th mile today.

And judging from the grill, it has picked up a bug for every mile. We shower and load and take the car for a shower of its own. Then, we head to Yellowstone. I don't have a particular plan for the day and that is no different really then any other day. 

I am drunk on the scenery...

...and wonder if I should be driving. 

I think about my friend Wynn who lived in this area at one time. Her beauty is similar. I wish she were in the passenger seat spouting Montana stories. 

I think about my nieces and nephews and wish I could have brought them on this adventure so they could see this great, beautiful country they will inherit.  

Four thousand miles and I still have not found him yet. But I know he is out here somewhere. 

My thoughts bounce.

Then I get busy site seeing.

I make it to Old Faithful at just the right moment...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tj_I3tZQogs

...it reminds me that timing is everything. I hope that wasn't him who just left in the black pickup.  

I trace the Gallatin River up to Bozeman; night is approaching but the trail is still  amazing. I spend the night here in Bozeman; just 30 minutes from where I spent the night last night. At this rate I will never get back to Georgia. It is supposed to snow tonight and I am 9 years old again and it is Christmas Eve and I am waiting on Santa Claus. 

Recipes: A little Elk here, a Buffalo there...blend with hot springs and enjoy!

Roadtrips: Montana, Wyoming, Idaho, Montana....pull over as often as you can so you can soak it all in.

Renovations: I fear I will be hungover tomorrow.

Days Ten & Eleven: I can't seem to turn this car around.

Day ten started with me going on one last tour of my former hometown; and the mansion on the hill that has covered up my old house.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SjPLvDU-xl8

What a monstrosity. No more quaintness or charm. Our dog Kelly is buried somewhere under the mote.

We head to the Smishek Lake where the big one got away from Daddy.

And we make one last pass through Powers Lake.

Then, we hit the highway with the goal of making it to Livingston, Montana. 

I must hunker down if I want to make this goal; but I keep getting distracted by the oil wells

And Man Camps...

Every street corner is filled with now hiring signs. And there is an ad on the radio about a job fair with some oil company where the starting pay is $600-700 dollars a DAY. I imagine myself working the oil fields and I look pretty good. I could cook meatloaf and mashed potatoes for the men at the camps and cherry pie on Sundays. I use the miles to plan the menus for my man camp food truck.

Hours later I arrive in Livingston and crash for all of day eleven. And if you are going to crash, Livingston is not a bad place to do it. 

Recipes: I am so full! Was it the Spicy Basil Shrimp from the Thai restaurant or the loveliness of this town? I'll never know.

Roadtrips: At some point I have to turn around. 

Renovations: I am 3,800 miles from the person I used to be.

Day Nine: Slow This Trip Down

When I wake on Friday morning, day nine, I remember I do not have to race to the continental breakfast area for apple juice and I smell coffee already in the air. The only reason I get up is because I know I have someone to talk to this morning.

When I come into the living room where Glennis is watching the morning news, I can see through the bay window that it is a beautiful morning. Louie is in heaven breaking from the routine of leash and little free roaming. He frolics and investigates on the open range.

When Eileen arrives back out she brings yummy flavored cream for the coffee and I don't ever want to leave this kitchen table. But eventually we do head into Powers Lake where she takes me down memory lane.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kiQ55GhgsR4

We have lunch at the cafe that I need to buy. I already have a plan for it; the decor will have to go the unfriendly waitstaff will need a Robert Irvine overhaul and my food will be contagious; everyone will be catching a bite. Eileen's daughter Taylor is with us and she is pretty and witty and the perfect dose of teenager. I feel like I am at a cafe with my own family. I mean at my cafe.

The town of Powers Lake is 37 seconds from end to end. But the memories I have of it have traveled the hundreds of thousands of miles of the years of my life. I see Daddy walking up the sidewalk by the boarding school on his way to fix a pipe. I can taste Annie Kraft's cake with the surprise cherry filling. The Northern Pike are slipping from my line and my brother is helping me reel it in. I feel the snowballs hitting my shoulder. There are my jeans with the burlap piping; I am wearing them everyday. Father Nelson's garlic breath is seeping through the confessional. My beenie is blowing in the wind. I am going sledding.

The afternoon is a little of sitting around and a lot of enjoying the company. Back at Glennis' house Eileen takes me to see the show rabbits and goats that Kenny's wife and daughter raise and show. Kenny is in the yard working under the hood of an ATV. When I see him I am 10 again and my tongue is all caught up in a crush and my eyes are all caught up in watching my shoes make silly circles in the dirt. His daughter Sadie has the most beautiful complexion I have ever seen and she is as tall as me as a sixth grader. She shows off her bunnies and her goats.

She introduces me to all the cats as I literally choke Louie back from chasing them and then her and Aunt Eileen pose by the horses. 

I of course don't have a picture of Kenny because that would be like Jessica asking Bill Kauiltz for a picture. 

After a perfect spaghetti supper cooked by Glennis and enjoyed my Eileen's kids Cooper and Taylor and me and Eileen; Eileen and I head to the bar that was a schoolhouse in Battleview and another childhood friend, Teri, and her husband join us. Eileen's husband makes it up from Bismark too; he is the spiting image of his son only he has facial hair. We drink beer and bourbon and different characters frequent our table. There is a dog, a very energetic blond and a sports trivia encyclopedia in the form of a 23ish year old who I stumped on the Secretariat question. And proudly I was able to answer 13 of his 15 useless bits of stats and who done its. 

We close the bar as you should do if you have traveled 3000 miles and I want to know these folks forever. 

.

Recipes: Never underestimate the power of a spaghetti supper.

Roadtrips: The road from the Maruskie's to our old house is still a single lane dirt road; and there ain't nothing wrong with that. I have a theory; God must have set it up this way so only the fortunate can travel it. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FA5QRWtBI5c

Renovations: I am pretty sure I want to be good like these people of the Great Western North Dakota.

Day Eight: The Badlands Then Home

It is that point in the roadtrip where I don't know what day it is or how many days I have been traveling. I have to pull out a calender.

On day eight, I came back from Miles City with the goal of reaching Powers Lake, North Dakota for the night. Powers Lake is a town where I had gone to school when I was a 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and 5th grader (remember 4th grade was spent in New England from day six, I think it was day six anyway).

Because of this Western North Dakota oil boom there is no way to get lodging if you are passing through. So I am excited to be headed to the Maruskie's home in Battleview, were I lived as a child: Battleview, not at the Maruskies, to spend a night or two. The Maruskie's are a family who took care of my family when we were fish out of water living in North Dakota 32 years ago. Collectively they are some of the best human stock I have known in all my travels and all these 32 years since. I have always had a memory for them, each member.

Eileen was my age and she was always the prettiest girl, not like us who feel like we need makeup and hair products. Kenny, who was my sister's age, was the one I had a crush on, my first I think. I will act cool if I get to see him. Scott was precocious. Ray was interesting and Daryl was a grown up. Glennis and Nealon, the parents, were good to us everyday; and you never forget that no matter what your age.

Circa 2011, the trip to Powers Lake/Battleview is a memory maker as well. I decide to go to the Teddy Roosevelt National Park and enter at the South end to remember what all the hub-bub of the Badlands is about.

There are several characters to meet along the way along the way...:

...and thoughts to contemplate...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cSakrTxFTsE&feature=mfu_in_order&list=UL

I don't really understand the map and think I am headed north, but I am nothing more then headed in a circle. When the adventure is over I end where I began and am hours behind schedule. I pull out my atlas and plan the route. It is ill planned, but, I fear, the only option, given where I am in this state of economic insanity. I get stuck pretty quickly on yet another road being redone. It is in the hour of the gloaming so everything is hard to see. I follow the truck in front of me with high hopes and notice no one in anything other then a semi is traveling this route. I hate it when everyone is in on the joke but me.

I try to text Eileen to inform her of the delays, as she is my welcoming committee, but no signal for mile after mile. I am coughing on the dirt blowing on my KIA. I am wondering if my car will ever be clean again; but not in a "I care to much about it'' kind of way.

I finally arrive at Powers Lake and I have no signal to call Eileen to tell her...I drive up and down town with my cell phone outside the window searching like a city slicker for some bars. Nothing! I head out of town and get one bar and a call goes through. I hear Eileen's voice and the joy is ruined by a car pulling along side of me. A window rolls down and smoke fills the air. A voice asks if I can tell them how to get to Tioga and judging from the Bud Light cans in the console I am assuming they don't notice my Georgia plates.

I don't know how to get to Tioga, and I think you ding-a-lings are blocking my cell reception; call drops with Eileen.

I pull forward and try the call again and after a short conversation, Eileen appears behind me. She is warm and welcoming and giving her a hug on the side of the road to Battleview is the warmest quilt I have felt in a long time. She navigates us out to her mom, Glennis' house; where I have secured a room.

We take dirt road after dirt road and I am beyond at home. I want to jump in the front seat with Eileen and tell her how excited, nervous, heartbroken, alive, I am to be here in this place of my childhood. But I don't. I keep it cool and choke back the stuff that would just be awkward.

When I drive into her mom's yard I am 8 again and my brother Wade is 13 and my sister Tracey is 10. We are right were we belong. I visit with Eileen and her mom for a couple of hours and then I hit the hay. And my cup has run over. I am not even sure what to pray for.

I am greeted in Battleview with a perfect bed and no 11 am checkout. I sleep like I am in heaven, and maybe I am.

Recipes: There is so much to digest.

Roadtrips: Always take the back road; even if you get stuck behind a work truck it is still more interesting then the main road.

Renovations: Don't change a thing; everything seems to be working out right in its own time...

Day Seven: No Vacancy in the state of North Dakota

Who the hell would have ever thought it. Please tell me I am not the only person who has not heard about the Oil Boom going on in Western North Dakota?? All these work crews from around the country have taken up to living at all of the hotels...no place for the weary traveler. I feel like I have been living under a rock.

I wake up this morning to 23 degrees, ice on the windshield and no hotel reservation for a second day in a row. I get back on the computer and keeping googling my way West. Finally an opening in Miles City, MT. I book it even though I have no idea where it is. I am not going to let it get me down. I am going to see the World's Largest Buffalo and Lake Sakakawea, an Indian Village or two and a place I used to live. There is a lot to get in before I have to travel to my hotel.

We leave the this morning and cross the interstate to the Frontier Village in Jamestown that houses the World's Largest Buffalo.

They aren't kidding. Louie goes immediately for the right front hoof and pees and the closer I get the more intimidated it all becomes. It really does have a presence of 'I could trample you in a split second'.

Now we are off I94 to Bismark where we will go off roading to see...

...windmill farms...

And Lake Sakakawea...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aP2thtcrdcg

(Sorry for the images of my front seat.)

Then we happen upon the Knife River Indian Villages. I contemplate asking if this Earth Lodge has any vacancies:

Then, on to...

where I spent the fourth grade.

The church is still there as a church...

...but the school is now a women's correctional/rehab center and since I can't confirm or deny who goes there I didn't take a picture. But the 14 foot, barbed wire  topped fence is new.

Then, I travel to HWY 12 and head to that hotel in Miles City. The sun is setting and the road is such that whenever I hit the top of a hill it feels like a roller coaster ride, where you have no idea what is about to happen next. Then darkness falls and I am alone on the road with my thoughts. The road suddenly becomes a dirt road and I panic. But then 20 miles or so it is is paved again. I try to find something on the radio and the choices are a religious talk radio program or a political one. I push the off button and sit in silence.

It is the first time on the journey I feel lonely.

We finally arrive at Miles City and I let Louie run in the dark while I check in. This hotel only lets pets in smoking rooms...what the hell. I didn't even realize smoking or non-smoking was an option anymore...I suck it up then when Louie and I hit the room we both choke. It is terrible and 1974.

I quickly get on the computer to try to find a place closer back toward my destination for tomorrow, I have to visit Powers Lake before I leave this part of the country. After two hours I have no luck; I even go on the North Dakota Tourism website that I have been communicating with for months about this trip (without ever hearing from them that hotels are booked through December) and tell them what I think about this nonsense. Every town has a Tourism Station and every rest area has a huge book about visiting ND, but there is no place for a tourist to stay in this state. I will say this for the State - it is the complete opposite from every where else in the country. There are Help Wanted and Hiring Now signs every where and there is no room at the inn; booked up with busy, working people.

I am in need of an oil change and and some air freshener and the KIA needs a bath.

Recipes: If a dish burns, you can still salvage the meal.

Roadtrips: A little bit of I94, HWY 83, SR 220,  SR 22, HWY 12...long day in the upper Midwest...

Renovations: I think I need to take a day to reflect on everything I have taken in...maybe after tomorrow's old homestead visit.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SWzmFEbOXxU

Day Six: Down, Up, Then Down Again

Waking up in Fargo this morning things were a little off. For starters, the damn hotel blow dryer blew up right in front of me so I had bad hair all day. And, as if I haven't already given my cousin Barbara fits for not carrying cash on my road trip; heaven forbid she finds out I have no hotel booked for tonight.

I want to go to Devils Lake today and get back to HWY 2. It is a big enough town with several hotel options so I figure I will just wing it. We load up and head out. It is in the 30's, I am dressed for the 60's. The time is different and my phone says one thing and my car says another. I don't know if I should have breakfast or lunch. So I get a bottled water and eat a peach I had already packed.

As I am leaving Fargo, I see this:

So that is what I plan to be today.

I remember I came in late last night and missed seeing a welcome to North Dakota sign to I head off the freeway to try to find Minnesota again so I can find North Dakota again. I am alone on the road with lots of big trucks hauling things that look like over sized potatoes but I think it has something to do with coal. Though, I really have no idea. I start to think I am not supposed to be on these roads because I don't have any potatoes or coal.

When I am about an hour out of Devils Lake I call the place I set my heart on for my night's stay. "No, rooms tonight" is what I hear. So I pull over at a grassy side of the road and let Louie run for awhile while I fire up the laptop. I sit on the hood of my car and look up hotels in Devils Lake while my dog frolics on the side of HWY 2. I am pretty sure that is pretty cool.

I start calling hotel after motel until the list of 14 is complete and all booked. You have got to be kidding me. It is Devils Lake, ND in the middle of October for crying out loud.

I look on my map for the next town I have heard of, Rugby. I start to make more calls; booked. I stretch all the way to Minot; booked. I have a slight moment of panic. Pull the map out again and opt to find an interstate for a better chance at an un-booked hotel. I finally find a bed in Jamestown; then take out the map and re-figure the route in my head. I see a road that looks to travel right over Devils Lake so of course that is the one I want to take.

Once I make the turn the road sort of disappears and I am traveling in a construction zone unlike any I have ever been through.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rw4VvSCwgxI

There isn't even really a road any more and the there are trucks carrying dirt everywhere. But to be that close to the water is spectacular, even though it is cold we roll the windows down and listen to the lake talk to the wind.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QyKqDyFmMI0

Before I started on this road I saw so many cars covered in dirt and wondered what was up. I now understand they must live on the other end of this road and have to travel it every day. The big trucks drive in the opposite direction blowing earth right on us. I am a tourist so I think it is cool; but I am sure it gets on the locals nerves.

I think this is the longest lake I have ever driven around until I remember the speed limit is 25 so I probably haven't gone far. Eventually the lake comes to an end and that off road adventure is over.

I turn onto HWY 281 in route to Jamestown and think about things that are important.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Ry7DwT1tgo

Recipes: Sometimes you don't have to know all the ingredients. Sometimes you just mix things up and a good day comes out of it.

Roadtrip: Prairie Puddles, wheat fields and big trucks = Eastern ND

Renovations: Try everyday to

Day Five: Be Washed by the Water

I started off the day knowing I had two things left to do in Minneapolis. I wanted to light a candle at the Basilica of St Mary and I wanted to go to Eden Prairie to get a picture of the Viking Ship that is outside the Minnesota Vikings practice facility for my brother.

The Basilica is spectacular, I saw it yesterday when I got lost looking for the Metrodome. But today, I was going inside. It had those amazing heavy doors that make it so hard to walk that path of Faith. Inside it is loud and silent at the same time. You know, the stillness and holiness in the room mixed with the sound of my boots and breathing. I walk from candle lighting option to candle lighting option and finally stop at St Anthony since he is the Patron Saint of Lost Things and Missing Persons as I have been lost for a long time and always fear no one will miss me. It is a dollar to light a candle? What the hell. I don't have a dollar. Don't they know I didn't have $3.50 to cross the Mackinaw Bridge? There is no card swipe option.

I fumble through my purse hoping for random change. Thirteen cents is what I come up with. There are at least 25 Saints staring at me as I deposit the dime and three pennies and I feel their disapproval as I pick a stick and light the third candle from the end on the front row. I say my Our Father and the words I want to tell God to express how much I appreciate the opportunity to be on this journey and tears stream down my face at the inadequacy of those words. Then I open the heavy door back out into the world.

The GPS is dying and I don't know why. It keeps saying low battery but it has been plugged in since Georgia. I only have to get to Eden Prairie then the rest of the trip is roaming anyway so I don't much mind.

When I get to 9500 Viking Drive, the road is closed, cutoff, construction. There are things you do in your life for yourself and there are things you do in your life for the ones you love. If it was something I wanted, I would have drove away; given up; after all the road is closed. But since this is a place I know my brother would want to visit, but may never get the chance, I have all the nerve in the world.

I drive through the roadblock following a construction truck. I park off to the left while he goes right in front of my destination. He is blocking my Viking ship. There is mud and piles of soon to be mud everywhere and everything is uphill. I grab the camera and search for traction. I get right up to the 5 foot tires of the machine parked right in front of my landmark and I begin to snap away.

When I return to the car I feel accomplished. I pull out the atlas and try to figure out where to go next. We settle on Fargo. I start off on I94 but then veer off on state road 78 and travel along the Otter Trail Scenic Byway.

And scenic it is.

Minnesota has prairie puddles every mile and even those are crystal blue. The lakes are humbling and quenching. The dirt is rich, as am I after passing through.


Recipes: Take curiosity and blend it with nerve and you will get somewhere you have never been.

Roadtrips: Only travel the interstates long enough to find a bathroom; otherwise stay on the state roads so you don't miss all the good stuff....they claim there were 1000 lakes in the 350 mile area I covered today and I believe them.

Renovations: ...be washed by the water...

Day Four: Saying Goodbye and Saying Hello

It is tradition in my family when ever we visit the ocean, the last thing we do before we leave is to go to the water's edge one last time and say goodbye. For me I always say a prayer of appreciation for the opportunity to be in the water's presence to begin with; then I pray I will one day have the good fortune to return.

This morning I awoke, packed us up and headed to say goodbye to Lake Michigan. I knew I was at the point in the highway where I would no longer be following the water. It is a spectacular morning with sun so bright and air so brisk I can barely breath through the perfection. I reach the water and it looks even better then yesterday. I have never seen anything so blue.

I am standing with weak knees and I worry I miss this place already with the ache like when the man I thought I would love forever stood in front of me for the last time. We make our way to the water's edge and I dip my fingers in. It is the purest water I have ever touched. I cup it in my hands and wash away the tears.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3GnoR2PlycU

I begin my prayers and sit quietly, hoping to not miss a thing. When Mass has ended, I go in Peace.

I load Louie and we set out for HWY 8 to take us across Wisconsin to Minnesota. The choice to go the back roads has not let me down so far; but I must admit, this route turns out to be very quite. Filled with township after township. I am confused by the landscape as I thought this was the Dairy State but I don't see a single cow the whole stretch, border to border. I do stop for gas at a station that does not have a pay at the pump option and I am refreshed. I will get into Minneapolis late and hope to get a picture of the Metrodome in action; it isn't until I arrive I realize it is an away game. I will sleep in tomorrow and see a little of the Twin Cities before deciding where to go next.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OJYPPvHGFUw

Recipes: The PERFECT Midwestern meal of Pot Roast, Mashed Potatoes and the kind of green beans that have still retained their color and have not been cooked for days in salt and lard is the best reward for a long drive.

Roadtrips: Michigan, Wisconsin and Minnesota all gave me eye, ear and nose workouts today.

Renovations: Saying goodbye can be hard and saying hello can be hard. But, in life, they are both necessary.

Day Three: Wind, Rain and Here's A Warning for You

Today we traveled from Traverse City to Escanaba, MI; or from the Mitten to the Upper Peninsula; or I left the trolls to be with the people above the bridge. It started with a surprise view from my hotel.

I had come in so late the night before that I didn't realize this was across the street.
After hearing the news that it was going to be another killer windy day, I threw the hair products in the travel bag and called it a morning. My sister texted me last night and asked if I packed a coat; this morning I realize I packed a Georgia coat, not a Michigan one. So I am layered. Louie is loving the weather. He is frolicking when he is supposed to be pooping. But I don't care. He has become that dog that can be leashless in public places (but of course I hold one in my hand in case enforcement comes along) and that responds to my "Lou" or pathetic whistle. It makes me proud. There is a funny man with his dog who is not as talented leash less. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that the funny man says things like, "that is an awesome poop Cal" and "way to pee sweet dog". Even Louie thinks that is bizarre. Louie's business is his business and I respect that.

We start out on day three.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F2vl_5g1C4M

It is raining, again. And the wind. I can't describe it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e0clpTDIS-o

It is a serious 10 and 2 driving day.

I am struck by the charm of town after town and decide I would like to live in Petoskey; after I have lived in Holland, Treverse City and Charleviox.

We make it to Mackinaw City and realize I need $3.50 to get to the Upper Peninsula. I am not carrying any cash, which is probably not the best Roadtrip Traveler idea. It takes me 40 minutes to find an ATM in this tiny town swirling in wind and rain. When I do, Lou opts to stay in. I walk to the ATM, then take a path to the lighthouse and see just what I am about to get into.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ZY76UfZMo0

Once I enter the Upper Peninsula I am immediately alone with my thoughts. Literally.

Which is fine. I am thinking about life at home. And what I should do when I return. My brain starts to churn so I switch to thinking about some different loved ones and how they are doing with their struggles. I think about the weather and how it has not at all dampened my love for the beauty of this place. Then I think, damn, those are blue lights.

I am embarrassed because I almost welcome Office Binzonia as he is the first sign of life I have seen for 80 miles. He is the most polite state patrolman I have ever met, and I have met a few. I feel trapped in my neatly organized KIA as I am well aware I forgot to print out the current insurance card; though state to state you really have no idea what they are going to ask you for. He says he clocked me going 71, it is a 55 zone. I say, I saw it coming as I was coming down that hill and it just got away from me. He takes my license, my registration and my expired insurance card, the one with the first hotel confirmation number and a lipstick blot on it, to his car and I wait with my tail between my legs.

When he returns he says, 'alright Miss Bortle (and I like how he calls me Miss), I appreciate you being honest with me so I would like to let you travel on today with a warning'. I would really like that too. He is the most beautiful person I have met in Michigan.

I continue on with a goal of 65.

It feels like I have searched for years to find a travel route that allows me to drive so close to the water. Like that need to be by the water has me thinking I need to move. I realize this water makes me so much less restless then the water at St Mary's where I think I want to move my life too. So I worry for the next several miles. I am comfortable and at home on this highway. Unlike the way I feel in my own skin at my own home. I love this route. I will remember it always.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5FOoaRVsIJQ

Recipes: Wind mixed with rain blended with beautiful places God made, equals a respectable way to spend time.

Roadtrips: Still in Michigan; which is not a bad thing.

Renovations: This water makes me feel better then that water; but why?



Day Two: Preacher Stevens at The Cathedral

This is how I started off...

http://youtu.be/wjyePvq5T_8

I woke up this morning in Cincinnati and decided I had to go to Indianapolis in route to Traverse City. When I said this on the video about a Brad Stevens sighting I was just hoping he might be riding down the interstate at the same time. Oh, and for those of you who don't know who Brad Stevens is, he is the boy wonder coach who took Butler Men's Basketball to back to back NCAA National Championship games. In my opinion he is the greatest coach since John Wooden. Butler University has an enrollment of 4500 students; a school in the Horizon League where no one goes to championship games.

Once in Indy, I reached my exit for HWY 31 to Traverse City; which low and behold was also the same exit for Butler University. So, I go left instead of right and drive through one of the loveliest neighborhoods I have been through in a long time. Stunning homes, leaves of Fall coming at me like rain. I started to be worried that Butler wouldn't hold 'little school that could' mystic I'd imagined. I thought that until I realized there is no sign bigger then a no uturn sign directing you to Butler University.

When I find the campus it takes me 30 seconds to cover it from end to end; quickly finding the famed Hinkle Fieldhouse....I literally became giddy like a teenage girl....check out how nervous and excited I am that I might actually see Brad Stevens that I completely mispronounce Hinkle Fieldhouse....so sacrilegious.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZLh1qWKaCAg

So I enter Indiana's Basketball Cathedral and am struck by how much it is just like a high school gymnasium. I am in a foyer of sorts but I can see that the hall from the foyer to the actual gymnasium is about 6 feet. Nothing like the Coliseum at UGA. Then a reach that wrap around hall and go to lift my sun glasses and Holy Shit, he is standing right there to the left. I panic, and suddenly feel like I really am going to wet my pants. Since he was left I went right and I know my lips were moving with the 'oh my God, he is right there, act cool' whole thing. Ahead I see a sign for the women's room. OK, you have to go to the corner, then up a wooden ramp; they totally are the little school that could. I reach the top of the ramp and enter 1974. The stalls wooden doors, painted Bulldog Blue and the are small individual sinks with Grandma's tile on the walls. I wonder if Coach K's wife would ever pee in a place like this.

Once I have refreshed myself in the ladies room. I notice there is a small store. I buy time and a brand new edition Butler Basketball T-shirt, the book Underdawgs and $52 later I emerge determined. I come back around the corner to the door where I can see a few players shooting around. Just like high school; you can stand in the doorway to the gym and the game is right there. I feel like I am on a covert mission. I am certain I can't take pictures of players from the team who went to back to back National Championships much less the coach, without a press pass. But I forget this is Brad Stevens and Butler Basketball where they are much more concerned with did a player get enough time to study for the OChem exam; it is like Coach Stevens is the only one who knows that that is actually how you compete with the Duke Universities of the world.

I see a group come through the outside door and realize it is one of those campus tours. There is a Junior or Senior walking in with a small group. maybe 15 folks and she actually doesn't say a word. When she brings the group to the door of the gymnasium; and by this time Coach Stevens is being interviewed by a single reporter with one camera guy. She looks at the group, who I have of course 'joined', with a knowing look; only I don't know what it means. There is one guy that says, 'oh, man, there he is' and he grabs his phone. It is out and he is trying to tell the pretty blond in the group how great this moment is and he is waving the phone around like he really wants to sneak a picture but is afraid he will get in trouble. I use him as a decoy.

I see Coach from behind and am hoping he will turn around, then I see him move with the reporter and hope I can see him there and then finally; they all stand still and I see him right in front of me.

I swear right after this picture, Coach looks right at me, so when I pull the camera away, I make a point to be looking at a different part of the gym. Like he was really looking at me - ah, that 14 year old again!

So, he wasn't really looking at me. He was however, cool. He made sure all his players present were interviewed before him. And in the hall I overheard a plan for several young men to meet for Men's Group where 'the lecture was really awesome this week'.

The rest of the trip for this day has been a blur. And it was actually a very long rest of the trip. About midway up Michigan I came across a radio station that played 'all the songs you know the words to', 97.7; and sure enough I did know all the words. Songs like Cool Change and Air That I Breath. It was awesome; I barely noticed it was raining cats and dogs. I didn't arrive at the hotel until 11 so am just now mapping out tomorrow.

If I had someone to play the high low game with right now I would say the high was knowing that the Butler really did do it with with less material items and more grace and perseverance just like I imagined; and the low would be that Indiana and Michigan are the windiest places on earth; so far. It was so windy when I stopped to get gas the nozzle almost blew out of the car...

Recipes: I totally forgot to eat a meal today, but I did have a banana.

Roadtrips: states covered today were Ohio, Indiana and Michigan

Renovations: It is awesome to get to see people we really admire in person...that is the only way you get to know if they really are worth the admiration. This man Stevens speaks through cadence the Gospel of Basketball and Life to his kids...and I just want to be in the same room and be inspired, and today I was.