Canoes and band music

This morning, Nancy showed me a book of the most remarkable wood carvings: masks, totems, marionettes, and other art pieces, by a man named Duane Pasco. This man, according to Dick, is a walking encyclopedia of knowledge about original native designs and practices.

The following are photos taken at his studio today.

One of Duane's assistants working on an 11-person (rowers) canoe made of pieces of cedar.

Totem

Another totem

One of three canoes carved from a large piece of wood.

Another carved canoe

The third carved canoe

All three, lined up.

I felt really privileged to see this work being done. I learned a lot even just skimming through the book, too, about Native American legends and the spirits that live in them, whom he brings to light through his carving. Dick and Nancy are very active with the Native community here, and Dick helped to carve one of the pictured canoes.

It was another young children day at the house, so Remy and I tried to play it cool and stay out of the way. I really enjoy intelligent, curious, articulate children, though. I would have loved for William to choose a name for me, but he either had trouble remembering my name, or it sounded too much like his mom's -- Markee --so he called me "hey", and I learned to respond to it and gladly, because there was always some interesting observation or question following the "hey."

Mid-afternoon, I decided to try to find a second hand store where I could get another pair of shorts. I only brought one with me besides the biking shorts, and I was feeling the need for some more appropriate clothing. I found a shop in Poulsbo, but I ended up getting a shirt. No shorts. Then Remy and I found the Petco. I thought I'd replace his bike basket and get his nails trimmed, but this Petco was apparently too small to carry bike baskets, and their rules are so strict that an official letter averring his positive rabies vaccination status per a titre done 2 months ago was not sufficient because their computer program requires an expiration date. Tomorrow or sometime soon, I will look for a local grooming salon that will do his nails. That's what always worked in W Michigan.

Nancy and Dick left for the library about 5:15 for a pre-concert reception that started at 5:30. Nancy plays with The Hometown Band, a group of about 35 (or so) adults playing for fun. Tonight, they presented the first concert in the new Kitsap Regional Library, a really remarkable community building housing boys & girls clubs, a senior center, and other important elements along with the library. 

The band opened and closed with Sousa, and in between played a nice variety of fun and serious pieces. Like most bands of this kind, some things were really tight, and others not as much; but all in all, a fun time was had by all of the approximately 65 attendees, and by the band members, too, I think.

We have had some lovely, sunny weather the past couple of days. Tomorrow says cloudy, but we're hoping to get out and do some hiking and/or kayaking tomorrow. I'll let you know.

Memorial Day

#1 Lesson of the Day: Remy and small children do not mix.

Remy and I woke up really early again this morning. I haven't set an alarm since May 1, the day I left Grand Rapids. Most of the time, my body requires 8 hours (almost to the minute) of sleep. Last night, I went to bed at 10:30. I woke up at 5:40 this morning. I didn't feel like going back to sleep, but I did end up having a short nap later in the day.

I got the bike off the car, put the dog basket on the front and rode to Starbucks. Remy and I hung out there for a while, and I read my latest Harry Dresden and sipped some decaf. We rode back about  7:30, and Dick prepared an amazing veggie omelette with goat cheese for us for breakfast. I will probably need to replace Remy's basket soon if we're going to keep using it. It's really saggy on one side.

At some point, Evie (short for Evanie) and William showed up. I had forgotten how much energy young children can produce. I introduced Remy to both children separately, and talked to them about how frightened he can be and how he reacts by attacking the perceived source of the fear. I kept him on a short leash all day, and for the most part the kids gave him a wide berth -- except when they didn't. William ended up with a scratch on his arm from the time when I was sitting at the kitchen counter, and William crawled around behind me and took Remy by surprise. Fortunately, it wasn't too bad. But after that Remy was banished to the bedroom. He seemed to understand, actually. He was very good about it; and I spent some time in there with him.

Remy and I took off for a while and drove to Barnes & Noble at Kitsap Mall to get a couple more installments of Harry Dresden. It gave the kids a chance to be able to move around freely without worrying about Remy, and Remy a chance to be with me without worrying about them. As the younger kids (Evie has an older sister who totally gets Remy and who doesn't run and scream like the little ones, but she'll be in school tomorrow) will be here again tomorrow, Remy and I are going to return to Port Townsend, perhaps do a little biking, and have lunch with Bruce and Flossie Bode.

With William came his dad, Sam, and Sam and Dick spent a good part of the day working on making the chicken coop secure from all directions. That will continue tomorrow.

A marvelous evening meal was prepared by Dick (barbecuing the chicken), Nancy, making the salad, the homemade barbecue sauce, other veggies, and relish tray, and Katie, who brought the tofu chocolate mousse for dessert.

I feel a little bit as though I might be coming down with something. A slight sore throat comes and goes, and I've been really exhausted. I think I'll get to bed early tonight.

Sometime soon -- maybe Wednesday -- Dick and I will go kayaking. I'm not sure where, but everything is so beautiful around here that I know it will be wonderful. Nancy has a concert tomorrow night, and I'm looking forward to being able to attend. The weather is finally moderating. Today, temperature were in the mid to upper 60s, and the sun shone all day. Looks like the rest of the week is going to be at least this nice. I look forward to spending more time outdoors in this beautiful place.

Kingston, Day 3

Marilyn tightened up the weaving on my basket and redid the top (because once the weaving was tighter, there were gaps at the top). She said it was really good for a first effort, which is nice to hear. It has the potential to be another obsessive activity for me. Once I start, it's easy to just keep going, step by step.

Hail, from Kingston, WA, day 3. It's been a great day.

One of the things I really wanted to do while here was to get to Port Townsend to see and hear Bruce Bode at his church, Quimper Unitarian Universalist. I checked the schedule on the website, and it only when through May, so there was no guarantee that he'd be speaking the next couple of Sundays. Therefore, I got myself ready and drove to Port Townsend this morning. Quimper has two services of a Sunday morning, one at 9:15, and one at 11:15. I arrived about 9:45, and the early service was still going on. I thought, "That doesn't sound like Bruce." I asked to make sure that I hadn't misread the times of the services, and one of the ushers told me, "He's just running a bit long. The next service starts at 11:15." So Remy and I had a short walk, I met a couple of people, signed the guestbook, and got myself a name tag.

During the service, there is a time for welcoming guests. Bruce comes down the aisle with the microphone and brings it to visitors so they can tell a bit about themselves. When he saw me, he was surprised, and we ended up having a very quick little chat right there in the service about getting together later. He was due back at a Family Camp event right after the service, so we exchanged numbers and will try to get together tomorrow or Tuesday. (As it turns out, it didn't sound like him because his voice was worn out from various activities at Camp.) The drive to Port Townsend from Kingston is not long, and it is very lovely and relaxing, so I don't mind heading back up there.

After the service, Remy and I had a lovely meal at Cafe Laurette in Port Townsend, then drove back to Dick and Nancy's, where I helped Nancy with some baking -- a real pleasure since I don't bake anymore - and then we got ready for their evening activity, a group of singers who potluck for an hour or so and then sing for an hour or so. This was their final gathering of the season, so there were lots of requests for favorite songs. The sopranos appeared to outnumber the altos, so I sang alto. It was also handy because Nancy was singing tenor and was able to sit next to me and share her music. It was a really lovely, fun group of people; and the gathering was held at the gorgeous home of Mel and Kathy. Mel took the time to tell me a little bit about the structure. Many of the timbers used in the floor and moldings came from maple trees that had been on the property before the area was cleared for the house. There is also a Russian or Finnish fireplace, an enormous structure designed for efficient use of firewood to heat the home. The outside was covered with soapstone to conduct heat into the house.

People keep asking me how long I'm staying. I tell them I don't know. It depends on Dick and Nancy, when I will visit Rob & family, and what else I might want to do in the area. I do love it here.

We'll see.

A rainy day in Kingston/Poulsbo

First some photos of Idaho, as promised:

And my cousins, Dick and Nancy D'Archangel:

Now, continuing with yesterday:

The wooded areas around here look like a tropical rain forest, only it's not tropical. In fact, it's been kinda chilly since I got here. But so beautiful.

I woke up about 5:30 this morning - still on Mountain Time, I guess - and let Remy out. I thought about going back to bed, but then I didn't feel all that tired. I got myself a cup of tea and got on FB for a while. Dick and Nancy had an all-day basket-weaving event, so I had thought maybe I'd bike around a bit and get to know the area. When the day dawned chilly, wet, and windy, I decided to learn to make a basket.

We arrived at the Cowling Creek Center about 9:15 to prepare for the basket weaving, all-day event. Dick and Nancy and I moved chairs, set up tables, and Nancy put coils of cedar into the downstairs bathtub to continue soaking. Both of them had baskets they had begun at another meeting. I was starting from scratch. People arrived in ones and twos, and I was introduced to Marilyn (called Marty), Eric & Tina, Snookie, Bill, another Marilyn (who arrived later), Richard, and Tom. The first group brought lots of doughnuts and apple fritters, and some of the later arrivals (as well as some of the earlier ones) brought lunch offerings.

Marty was starting a new basket, so I sat next to her, and she helped me get started. I had never done this before, but I often felt as though it had similarities to making a potholder or some aspects of sewing or knitting. I learned early on to keep all materials wet, as all have a tendency to break -- just snap right off -- if you don't.

Here's my basket, as I was working:

Here's Bill's basket, as he was working, just for perspective:

I wish I had a picture of Bill's finished basket to show you, as our baskets were similar in size and basic shape (mine was fairly shapeless when finished, although Marilyn was going to take it home and shape it using sand or rice). Bill has been doing this for a while, and he's generally accepted as having a gift for it.

This is me with Marilyn and my finished basket:

In the middle of the session, we had lunch. Snookie had made some unbelievable clam chowder, which I indulged in as much as I could while still making sure that everybody else got some. I also had Nancy's excellent salad, and the inside of Tom's strawberry-rhubarb pie. There followed a meeting of the council that runs the activities of the Center. I just kept working on my basket and listening in. There's a canoe gathering coming up at the end of July, and this group was planning who would paddle and who would support, as well as some other activities.

When weaving was done, I cleaned up my spot, did some lunch dishes, and then Dick and I went for a walk around the grounds that the Center occupies. Over the years, people have been working to repopulate the area with chum salmon, and a rough hatchery exist on the property, as well as a number of trails through the forest. Remy and I agreed that it felt good to stretch our legs and backs after sitting and weaving all day. 

By the time everyone had gone and the place was put to rights, we didn't have much time before Lilia's (one of Dick and Nancy's granddaughters) dance recital. We  hurried back to their place, changed clothes, grabbed some (delicious) food at their favorite Thai restaurant, and made it to the school auditorium in plenty of time. 

I've been to a lot of dance recitals, and in many ways this one was fairly typical; but whether because it's been a few years, or because of excellence, this one was particularly enjoyable. The lovely Lilia was in two numbers. Others featured an ensemble of auditioned dancers. Beginning dancers' choreography is the same from coast to coast, I decided. The program included 29 separate numbers and ran just about 2 hours, including intermission, so I think it is reasonable to say that it was very well organized and run. I saw one of the best-choreographed tumbling numbers ever, and many other enjoyable pieces.

We had taken two cars to dinner and the recital, because the recital didn't seem like a very good place for Remy, so he stayed in my car. He survived, but he ate most of a small bag of Stella & Chewy's dog food. After the recital, Nancy and I stopped for a few groceries, and when we got home we finished up her wonderful salad from lunchtime. 

I think I'm officially on Pacific Time, since I went to bed about 10:30 and got up at 6:30 today, instead of 5:30.  I was going to go to Starbucks this morning to do this, but Dick put me on his WiFi hotspot, and everything seems to be working. 

It is lovely being with family. I enjoyed seeing the dance recital so much last night. It was great to see what a confident, lovely girl Lilia is, even though I didn't get to see Katie who, I assume, must have been backstage. 

It looks like another cool, rainy day today, so I'm not sure what Dick and I will do. Nancy has a plan to bake all day, in preparation for an event Tuesday evening. If it's not rainy, I may bike around a bit. It's very pretty and relaxing here. Ahhhhh.

I made it!

I'm writing this from a lovely, comfortable bedroom in my cousin's beautiful new home in Kingston, WA. I arrived this evening, after trying to change lanes getting to the ferry and getting admonished by one of the guards. I explained to him that I had come through ticketing in lane 2, but moved over behind a truck in 3 because I thought that's what I was supposed to do. Then, when I saw lanes 1 and 2 moving and there was a big gap in two (where I should have been), I pulled into it. He said that I wasn't supposed to change lanes. I explained that I'm from Michigan and didn't know. Then he let me go. The people behind me weren't too happy, but we all got on.

I started out the day in Sandpoint, ID. I didn't get up early enough to go for a bike ride, but I did sleep from 7:30 last night till about 6:00 this morning! I guess I must have needed it. I had my usual piece of fruit and finished off the last of the almond butter. I decided against having breakfast at the hotel restaurant (for 20% off with coupon) for two reasons: hotel breakfasts haven't been agreeing with me; and I knew I'd be having a scrumptious brunch in Moscow, ID, a few hours later.

So Remy and I got packed up and headed off. Idaho is green. It has mountains and rolling hills, but the difference between Idaho and North Dakota and Montana is that Idaho is really, really, green. (I was corrected on this by the Idahoans I had brunch with. Apparently the panhandle of Idaho is green. Further south, not so much.)



We arrived in Moscow right on time, found a parking place and walked about a block to The Breakfast Club, a delightful little restaurant with an exceptional menu. This is where Emily Rankin has been working for about a year. She was waiting for me outside, and as I walked up they called our name for a table. I went to the bathroom straightaway, and when I came back Emily had gone to greet her grandparents as they came into the restaurant. I have to say what a delight it was to spend time with all of them. The conversation ranged far and wide, and it felt as though we could talk about lots more things than we had time for. About 11:15, I said my good-byes, and Remy and I walked back to the car and headed off for Seattle.

It was a long afternoon, but there was nothing boring about the views. I saw prairie flowers and sage, fields of green grain, craggy mountain faces, snowcaps in the distance, plunging cliffsides along rivers, dense pine (and other) forests, and THE COLUMBIA RIVER! I had never seen the great Columbia before. Woody Guthrie ran through my head. It was majestic, grand, moving. I was awestruck yet again.

When we finally reached Seattle (just glad I wasn't headed east, because the traffic was extremely heavy and slowed by construction), we went to Tayler's apartment building and dropped off her stuff. Didn't get to see much of the area, but it looks like a college part of town, for sure. Then we hopped back on the highway and went north to Edmonds where I got gas and then waited in the ferry line for about an hour. Fortunately, having chosen the northern ferry that went right to Kingston, once we arrived Dick and Nancy were only a few minutes away.

Nancy had held dinner for me, and I was so grateful. Vegetable and Manchego cheese appetizer followed by chicken soup, a magnificent salad, and sauteed morels (that was the surprise I brought!) with garlic, made for a sumptuous meal. I have a very happy tummy right now. And I have permission to make a banana pancake for breakfast! It's been over a month!

Well, I guess we're not going to have photos tonight. This is my first time using my phone as a WiFi hot spot, and it may be that things just aren't going very fast. I'll post my photos of Idaho's green as soon as possible, as well as waiting in line at the ferry and my wonderful family in Kingston!

Pacific Time

I crossed over into Idaho today. The bottom part of Idaho is on Mountain Time, but the top half where I am (in Sandpoint, at the moment) is on Pacific Time; so now I don't have to do any math to communicate with Alice, but I have to think about how late it is in Michigan before I call anyone.

Remy and I awoke in Kalispell this morning, had a little breakfast, and got our things packed up. I made one trip to the car with all my bags, hoping that my hostess, Karen, would come out before I left. She did. She slept in later than usual, probably making up for the fact that she'd been in Alaska with one of her daughters where there's very little darkness right now, and she'd hit the ground running when she got back yesterday. Anyway, I was glad to be able to say good-bye. Staying with her and her daughter -- and the nearly invisible other guest -- was delightful.

I decided to go north to check out the town of Whitefish. I had read about a spa there and considered treating myself to a massage, and perhaps some other pampering. When I got to Whitefish and looked the spa up again, however, I discovered that it doesn't open for the season till June 1. So Remy and I parked and just walked around the lovely little tourist town. I found a nail salon and had a mani and pedi in lieu of the spa pampering.

As we walked and looked, I found a treat to take to my first hosts in Seattle (I won't give it away because I know they're reading this), and had a snack. My "treat sensor" seems to have been activated lately, perhaps because I'm not riding and exercising as much as I had hoped. Anyway, when the will is weak I find myself getting on the sugar wagon and not getting off all day. Then, at night I tell myself, "Not again tomorrow. Nothing. You can't have any refined sweeteners. You know it. It will just start all over again." And then tomorrow comes and the will is weak ...

Today was pretty rough in that respect. I had coffee with honey and cream and some gluten free caramel parfait thing. Later, at a stop in another town, I had another cup of coffee and a scoop of vanilla ice cream! Yikes. And I wasn't hungry.

All that aside, the drive from Whitefish to Sandpoint, ID, where I'm spending the night at the Quality Inn, was as stunningly beautiful as many of the other routes I've been on. The road passed through the Kootenai National Forest and ran for many miles along Lake Kootenusa. I kept thinking, "Is this a veeerrryyy long lake, or a very wide, flat river." The answer to that anywhere in the west it would seem is it's a dammed river.

Once again, I was awed and amazed by the work of civil engineers, in particular at a bridge that spanned the river/lake.

Oh, I noticed right away as I entered Idaho that the Idahoans don't need to travel at quite the same rate of speed as their Montanan neighbors. In Montana, the speed limit on the expressways is 80, and on the two-lane back highways it's 70 (except where curve speeds of 35-55 are wisely posted). As soon as I saw the "entering Idaho" sign, I saw a speed limit sign for 60. I have no problem with this, as most people go a little faster, anyway; and I was a bit apprehensive about the 70 limit on some of those mountain roads in Montana.

I was looking forward to a 15-mile or so bike ride upon arriving in Sandpoint. The hotel rests near a lake, and there's a trail that travels along it and across a long bridge span. My body, however, is saying, "Rest. Ride later. Go to bed early and ride tomorrow." My mind is saying back, "You know you'll feel better if you get some decent exercise."

I'll let you know who wins.

Tomorrow, I have to get an early start to meet up with Emily, David & Ginger in Moscow at 10 a.m.

In case you're wondering, I thought a lot about "stuff" today as I drove. I imagined what it would be like to simply "go home" again when my trip is done and, happily and perhaps a bit surprisingly, that didn't feel good at all. I thought about staying in another hotel room tonight and what it might be like to have a very small apartment or a room in another person's house, and that felt pretty good. I guess one thing for me to realize is that there is no planned end point on this journey -- sort of like life. We all know it will end, but we don't know what the end point is. I sort of feel as though I'm approaching everything that happens from this point on as part of a journey -- not that the rest hasn't been; I just didn't often look at it that way. This may mean continuing to physically move about the planet, or stopping here and there but trying to keep everything else buzzing along with the energy in the vicinity.

I guess as long as I'm away from most of you and you're interested in what I'm doing and thinking, I'll keep writing. Thanks for reading.

Glacier

Remy and I headed out from the Airbnb about 8:30 this morning. I had my usual early breakfast of fruit and almond butter, but left room for a breakfast stop along the way. One thing I'm finding about Montana -- even the small burgs often have items like turkey sausage, as well as gluten free menus. Several of the small towns I went through had their own health food stores (I stopped at one in Columbia Falls and was surprised and delighted at their selection of HerbPharm products.) Columbia Falls even had a foot reflexologist, but she was booked up this afternoon or I would have had an appointment with her.

Anyway, we stopped for a bit of breakfast in Columbia Falls and then drove the exciting, curvy roads past the west entrance to the park and on toward the east side. The upshot of the recent rains was that a culvert had broken and washed out part of the Going to the Sun Road which crosses the park, so only 2 miles of that was accessible from the west and 15 miles from the east. But when I got to the town of East Glacier, a clerk at a gas station said that she thought the park wasn't open from the east. I shouldn't have listened to her, but I did. I drove on a little further, got a great view of the snowy mountains in sunlight, and turned back.

I have to share this picture with you. It hit me in the heart when I saw it, and I turned around to take a picture of it to share with you. Chuck's dad, Bill, was known as Old Chief to his family, and to his kids' friends, back when they were children. When I saw this, I felt him ever so close to me, and I could imagine him traveling the same road -- he drove back and forth to Seattle several times through the north country. Rest in peace, Old Chief.

The following are photos of the beautiful mountain landscapes I saw today, captioned appropriately. Remy and I hiked a trail in the National Forest (not Park) along Hwy 2, as well as the trail to Apgar Village at the west end of the Park. I found a few gifts, and we just kind of took it easy.

From a stop on the west side of Glacier.

From the car, mountaintops in mist. The west side was cloudy. We're looking east.

After I turned around and headed back. Look at the difference in the sky and the distant mountains.

Middle Fork (of the Flathead River, I think.)

Same. This was where Remy and I took our first hike. We crossed the river and went up a moderately steep bank and looked down on the river. We also encountered lots of poop -- deer, for sure, and something else which I hope was a large dog and not bear. Either way, we got back to the car safely.

Looking across Lake MacDonald from Apgar Village.

Same. 

I still haven't met my host, Karen, at the Airbnb, although I've had a couple of very pleasant conversations with her daughter, Jessica. Karen was apparently in Alaska when I arrived yesterday, having had her flight delayed. I guess she got in at midnight last night, and I probably left before she went to work this morning. I hope to meet her this evening, but she is a realtor, so her schedule could keep her out through the evening.

The way it rains here on the west side of the mountains reminds me of Miami. While there's not quite as much sunshine the rest of the time, the rain squalls and departs quite quickly. As I drove back from the park today, I could see the squalls dotted around the valley, and no sooner had we gotten back to the house than it poured. And stopped.

I ate at a kind of fancy place in Kalispell last night, called the 406 Bar and Grill. They had tapas. I had a couple of lamb chops and some fries with chicken, spicy sauce, and gouda cheese. Mmmm. I had lunch today in Apgar Village quite late in the afternoon, so I have a feeling this evening it will be a piece of fruit for supper. Dietarily speaking, the journey has been every bit as challenging as I expected. Now that I'm not trying to ride many miles each day, I'm not as concerned about the vicissitudes of my body; but it's still annoying. I could cook here at the Airbnb, but not having met my host I'm uncomfortable using the kitchen too much, even though her daughter said it was okay. I'd love a nice banana pancake, though.

Helena-Missoula-Kalispell

I left Helena at a reasonable hour this morning, I think around 8:30 or 9:00. I had had my usual piece of fruit with almond butter, so I knew I'd be able to wait a while for a larger meal. I decided to aim for a place called Catalyst Cafe in Missoula. Once again, the drive was startling in its beauty and occasional scariness. I went through a lot of small towns but, though sorely tempted, I didn't stop at any of the souvenir or curio shops. I do want to find myself a T-shirt or something, but I couldn't bring myself to hold up the flow by stopping to shop.

The Catalyst served interesting food, breakfast and lunch. It was about 11 when I arrived, and I was still in the mood for breakfast, especially after perusing their menu on line last night. They had a "Pick 1, 2, 3, 4, or 5" feature, with a list of all the yummy-sounding things to pick from. I picked 3: turkey sausage, fruit cup, and pepper jack, green chile casserole. I also got a huge mug of decaf Earl Grey tea.

After brunch, Remy and I walked a few blocks to the Adventure Cycling headquarters on Pine St. As we were walking, I noticed those "pay-for-parking" kiosks and realized that I was probably supposed to do that. Damn! I was walking in the opposite direction from the car, so I just hoped for the best. At Adventure Cycling, I met Jeff, who showed me around and listened to the tale of my bicycling/non-bicycling trip. He encouraged me to look into some of their guided tours, and I will! The offices reside in an old church building, so everything was spacious and open and light. I didn't meet any of the other people working there, but Jeff made up for that, talking about the history of the organization, all the different things that are done there, etc. I'm glad I took the time to go there. It had been something I was really looking forward to, even adjusting my trip to make sure that I got to go to Missoula; but after I stopped riding every day, I wondered whether I still wanted to go. I guess the answer was yes! (And I didn't get a parking ticket!)

We didn't hang around Missoula, because I wanted to get to Kalispell and closer to Glacier. More beautiful driving, green pastures, sheep, mountains black in the shadows and green in the sunlight -- although there wasn't much of that until we got close to Flathead Lake. I didn't even realize it was coming. We topped a hill, and there it was, spread out before us. It took my breath away, and I zipped into an observation place. Remy and I walked down to the point, and I snapped a panorama. 

(Oh, I forgot to mention that I was still dealing with Healthcare Marketplace stuff today, but I think it's taken care of now. My poor agent, Joy, has tried so hard to help me, and somehow I've gotten the login info mixed up twice now. Today, I spoke with a real human at the Marketplace, and I think we're good to go. Phew!)

The drive (Hwy 93) to Kalispell skirts Flathead Lake from south to north. Each time I thought it was going to disappear, I'd come around a bend and find another bay shimmering with the healthiest, most beautiful blue, almost tropical in its color yet undoubtedly very cold. 

My hostess, Karen, at the Airbnb in Kalispell, had asked whether I could wait to arrive till after 4:00, since her daughter had to work, and she's the one cleaning the room in preparation for my arrival. I didn't think that would be a problem. As it was, I arrived about 4:15, and Jessica was there to greet me. Remy and I went out and got some supper -- well, I got some supper, and he sat with me. When we returned a little while ago, he got his supper. Now, we're comfortably settled at Karen's place with full tummies.

Jeff, at Adventure Cycling, recommended that I take in some of both sides of Glacier Park, because they're so different. So, tomorrow I plan to drive through the park and hike or bike around the east side. Thursday morning, Remy and I will check out the west side before continuing on to Coeur d'Alene where we'll stay Thursday night. Then, Friday morning, we'll drive just about an hour to Moscow, ID, where we'll have brunch with Emily, David, and Ginger Rankin! I'm so excited to see all of them!

After that, I think I'll head for Seattle. Seeing people I care about feels like a good thing to do right now.

Mountains

Remy and I got up and bicycled (only a couple of miles) to breakfast on Main Street in Bozeman. The place is called The Nova Cafe. I had a turkey scramble and lemongrass/ginger tea. When I told the waitress "no toast," she asked if I would like a chunk of avocado instead. Of course I said, "YES!"

And I'm very picky about my Hollandaise sauce, having had my first taste at Cherie Inn, but this was just delicious and conservatively presented, not drowned in it.

After breakfast, I took Remy's kennel to a nearby pawn shop. I didn't get much for it, even though it was barely used, but I couldn't keep carrying it and the cart, and besides, he never used it. Then, we picked up Tayler, got her some spending money, and dropped her off for breakfast at ... you guessed it ...The Nova Cafe. She had seen my pictures!

I was going to check out a second hand clothing store or two before leaving Bozeman, but the wanderlust took hold, and I heard myself saying, "You have enough clothes. You don't need anything," even though almost everything I brought with me is for bike riding, so it would be nice to have a couple more items that don't look like I just dismounted. 

Remy and I zoomed off out of Bozeman on a two-lane country highway -- and when I say "zoomed," I mean it. The speed limits on these back roads are 70 mph, except where curves are marked lower. It's a little disconcerting when you don't know what's coming. I'd come up a rise and not know if the road was going to turn as I topped the hill - a little scary. Our destination was White Sulphur Springs, a tiny town north of Bozeman with a hotel that features pools filled with the sulfurous waters that occur naturally there. This particular place, The Spa Hot Springs Motel, boasts that they empty the pools every day and refill them, thus enabling them to keep things hygienic without using any chemicals. 

The cost was $7.00, and Remy was admitted since he's a service dog. I tied his leash to a pole by the pool, and he curled up against the extreme wind that was raging about us. I read my latest Harry Dresden and stayed in the pool for at least 30 minutes. On my way out, I noticed a sign for "Hot Pool," which was indoors, under cover. As soon as I opened the door, I knew neither Remy or I would stay in there for long, but I did take a short dip. I'm used to 105 degrees. I'm guessing this was higher. 

After a quick burger and a fuel fill-up, we hit the road to Helena. I had considered staying in White Sulphur Springs, but the clerk at the hotel actually talked me out of it. She said there really isn't much to do there, especially on Sunday. 

We're in Helena now, at a Baymont Inn. Tomorrow, I hope to discover some bike trails and interesting shops and restaurants in Helena, and maybe stay another day. I need to do laundry and make a couple of phone calls to businesses in GR to get some things straightened around. Wherever we go from here will most likely be on the way toward Missoula. If the temps improve, I'd like to do some camping. I have everything I need, still in packaging. 

Now, about those mountains.

I've been in the Appalachians and the Rockies before. I am always impressed by how small and insignificant I find myself, and all of us, to be. The mountains are vast, and even the fields and prairie below spread out so far and wide it is hard to imagine knowing the land even fairly close to one's home. And yet, we humans maintain roads and bridges and homes in this enormous, windy, landscape, insisting on our enduring "selfness" amidst the inclusiveness of life/death/nature. As I came around a bend upon a particularly stunning panorama, I thought of the idea of God creating this, and how easy that is to believe. And then I thought of letting go of ego and being it instead of seeing it. Lovely. Peaceful. Inspiring. Letting go.

There's no way to convey the effect of any of this scenery with an iPhone from a moving vehicle.

The official morphing of the adventure

Yesterday's trip to Bozeman was rough on everyone. It wasn't fun. Remy was anxious, and his continued motion throughout the trip made both Tayler and me anxious. The idea of the three of us traveling together like that any longer was distasteful to say the least.

Tayler met up with friends last night and stayed with them. I spent the evening with Remy, and when I got up this morning (pretty early, as usual), I wasn't sure what Tayler's plans were. Since I hadn't heard from her and figured her phone was probably out of juice, so I wouldn't be able to reach her, either, I decided to do something I wanted to do.

First, Remy and I went into downtown Bozeman and had breakfast at the Mainstreet Overeasy, a really wonderful breakfast place. They had the best hashbrowns I've ever eaten, and my idea of a veggie omelette - not the usual onions, peppers and maybe mushrooms, but spinach, asparagus, mushrooms, and artichoke hearts, with just a light sprinkle of cheese. Heaven.

It was fairly busy, but there was a table that was actually 3 2-tops pushed together. There was a couple seated at the inside of the long table. The hostess pulled the end table just slightly away from the other two and seated me there. As breakfast progressed, we all got to talking. Their names are Rachel (didn't check the spelling with her) and Ben. They are Indiana natives who have lived in Bozeman for 16 years. They started out to go to Seattle, but when they got to Bozeman they liked it so much that they decided to stay. Ben is a pilot. I didn't find out what Rachel does. They were on their way to Chico Hot Springs where they had been married. I didn't ask if it was an anniversary. They told me lots of great stuff about the area. They finished their meal first, and we said good-bye. A few minutes later, I asked my waitress whether I needed to pay up front or at the table, and she said that Rachel and Ben had paid my bill. THANKS, you two!

After breakfast, Remy and I hit the road for Yellowstone. After many Disney and National Geographic programs about Yellowstone and Old Faithful in childhood, and hearing the stories from friends who had visited, seeing Old Faithful has always been something I've wanted to do. The fact that the temperature was in the low forties and the sky was raining didn't matter to me. I had my biking rain gear in the back seat, so I was ready.

The drive to Yellowstone from Bozeman is stunning. We followed the Gallatin Highway, which parallels the Gallatin River most of the way. The river is high because of snow melt and today's precipitation, so it was running fast and a light, muddy tan color. Closer to the park, though, the Madison River appears, and while it may be fast underneath, it is placid and reflective of the sky, which varied widely through the day. We passed through heavy rain, mist, sleet, and light snow in the course of the trip down.

I congratulated myself on the purchase of a year-long National Park pass when I entered Yellowstone. I was also pleased that the temperature was low because I suspect it made it possible to see even more of the steam vents as we drove through the park. Just as we entered, I flipped on the radio and heard Scheherazade playing. I kept the station for 10-15 minutes before it turned to static. The music fit the passing scenery and my mood of romance with the whole experience.

Parking near the geyser was a bit of a challenge, but we finally found a spot and made our way to the spot where many stood waiting, most with iPhones cocked and ready. I had read that Old Faithful's timing changes, but it's never more than about 90 minutes. I judged by the number of people waiting that the crowd had been gathering for some time, so I didn't think we'd have to wait that long, but I was fully prepared to. A mere 10 minutes later, low level burbles of water started to come up and hisses of steam. And then she blew. It was beautiful and very moving. I cried. I know it's not necessary to figure out why, but I did think about it.

* It's a bucket list thing
* It's an amazing gift of nature
* Millions of people have shared this experience
* I finally got there

And then we turned around and drove out, enjoying the amazing landscape from the other direction. A herd of bison crossed our road, and I tried to get a shot, but if I posted it here you'd be saying, "What are those blurry black things in that field?" so I erased it from my phone.

All in all, the trip from Bozeman to Old Faithful and back took about 6 1/2 hours. By the time we got back to Bozeman, the sun had come out, and the temperatures had moderated some. I heard from Tayler midway through the afternoon. She had met up with yet another friend from Ludington -- can you believe it!? -- and that friend, or the group she was with, had invited her to supper. A later message invited me and Remy, as well.

I stopped at Barnes and Noble for the next two Harry Dresden books, and also picked up some mending materials at Joanne's, on the way back to the hotel. Remy and I sat for a few minutes and then went off the the cookout at Patty's house. I got introduced to everyone at least once, but I only remember a couple of names. Patty was our hostess, someone about my age. The rest were all young men and women in their 20s. The repast was brats, which I usually don't eat, but these were amazing and organic. I also had a couple of glasses of red wine, something I haven't done since Big Bob's a couple of weeks before departure.

So, here's the upshot of the last few days:

* When I'm alone I meet more people.
* I am happier when I have more freedom to stop and smell the roses, so to speak.
* There's no way that traveling with 2 adults and a nervous dog in the car for long distances will work.
* Something had to change.

Tonight, I purchased a ticket for Tayler to fly to Seattle on Monday. She'll stay tonight and tomorrow night with her friends, and someone will take her to the airport on Monday. I'll see her again tomorrow before I leave, and I'll drop off all her extra stuff to her in Seattle when I get there in a couple of weeks.

Tomorrow, Remy and I will go find some hot springs to sit in, hopefully in a fun little town where I can walk or bike around and talk to people. At some point, I would like to make it to Jackson Hole, Wyoming, because several people have recommended it, but since it's south of Yellowstone, and I already went that way today, it may happen on the way back from California. For now, it's National Parks in Montana, Idaho, Oregon and Washington, a definite stop in Missoula to visit the Adventure Cycling hub, and ... we'll see. There are many beautiful, paved biking trails inside some of these parks, and I hope to ride them, or at least parts of them. There is also a lot of biking in the Seattle area for me to partake in once I get there.

Someday, I would like to make a cross country trek of some kind; but I will do it with at least one other rider. I need the companionship of someone who speaks English. Having Remy along has been great in many ways, but it's not the same as being able to consult with someone else about the route or the hazards, or the interesting things to be seen along the way. I miss traveling with my girls, who notice the same strangely worded or misspelled signs that I do, and who enjoy listening to the same radio programs. I'm open to some other traveling orientation - a friend or partner who wants to do this, or getting a camper or small motor home and continuing my odyssey around the country, getting to know the country itself and its people. That is what I love.

Time to talk turkey

I'm finally realizing that the most courageous thing I've done so far was to cut myself loose from my work and house in Grand Rapids. The rest of the idea, riding across the country, is probably more than I bargained for. I still love the idea of it, and perhaps I'll be able to do it sometime with a riding partner or a group of people. The part about doing it alone isn't working so well at this point.

Sometimes I feel as though I just don't have the stick-to-it-iveness, the will power, or something. In thinking this over, I've realized that when other people are involved I can move mountains. I can make stuff happen.  But I seem to be having a hard time doing it for me. Josh Keeler asked me one time about "women's strength." He said people kept mentioning this thing called "women's strength," and he wondered about it. I told him it's force of will. Men are generally (not all) physically stronger than women; but women have an ability to overcome things that many men would balk at. I've always felt like one of those women, yet here I am balking.

We're in Bozeman tonight. I didn't even plan to come here. Tayler thought she might take a side trip here sometime while I was riding between Great Falls and Missoula. Yet here we are. Last night, in Circle, we looked up bike shops where I could get some help with my back tire falling off. All the shops were well away from Circle, so we chose Bozeman since Tayler has some friends here, and Bozeman has some hot springs and is supposed to be quite a lovely city.

After 5 1/2 hours in the car with Remy, we were all ready to tear our hair out. He just doesn't relax. He stands up on his hind legs, full of tension, for the entire time, moving back and forth from one side of the car to the other. Of course there's no place for him to go other than the front seat, because the car is so full of stuff.

When we arrived in Bozeman, we went straight to the bike shop. Tayler discovered that the coffee shop that was recommended to her, Wild Joe's, was only a couple of blocks away, so she walked down there while I had my bike fixed up at Summit Bike and Ski. The young man who helped me there put a longer skewer through the back tire and added some spacers to make everything more secure. He also checked over my gears, since I'd had some trouble shifting yesterday on the road. All for $10! I'll tell you what -- the biking community is friendly and helpful and amazing!

Remy and I met Tayler at Wild Joe's, had a snack and did some reading. Then we made our way to the Rainbow Hotel which is a testament to "you get what you pay for." Because we were planning to stay two nights, I wanted to find something fairly inexpensive. It is. And the room smells. It's clean enough, I think, but it's stinky.

Tayler walked back to the shopping area of the coffee shop. (I think she needs some time away from both me and Remy. Can't say I blame her.) I think I'll feed the boy and then seek out a health food store/coop nearby for some dinner.

I hope the weather cooperates tomorrow. I'd like to bike around Bozeman and maybe take in some hot springs. We'll leave Sunday morning for Great Falls, and I hope to continue riding from there -- although I have to say that I have some concerns about riding the mountains, especially now that I'm here, and haven't had the degree of preparation I thought I would by this point. Just another rock in the stream.

Tayler and I have talked a bit about changing our plans. One possibility would be for me to send her on to Seattle by bus or train or something and then take day trips out from various places by bike with Remy, moving slowly across the rest of the planned path. We talked about her driving on to Seattle and leaving me on my own, but I'm afraid my confidence has waned considerably since beginning this adventure, and I'm not sure that's a good idea.

Whatever happens, I'll keep you posted right here. It's very reassuring to know that so many of you are following along and sending me your good wishes and energy.

When (wo)man plans, God laughs.

Thanks to Lori Jacobs for the above quote. Today was a very funny day in that respect. (Some of you may have read the first part on Facebook this morning.)

(Copied from FB) "Interesting morning so far. I left the hotel around 8:30 or so and rode through a sweet little neighborhood on the river. Found a small park and stopped to do my chi gung. Remy and I were just getting on the main drag out of town when I got a phone call from Joy Chapman, the wonderful woman who has helped me get and keep my Marketplace subsidy and my Priority insurance. Apparently, the Marketplace people didn't receive my evidence of employment early enough and were about to cancel my subsidy, and Priority had not yet registered my auto payment, so my May payment was missing, and they had notified her that they were going to cancel me. [Did I mention I was on a street corner in Glendive, MT?!]

I sought out a coffee shop with WiFi, got a coffee, and found the email with my Marketplace password and forwarded it to Joy. Then I called Priority to make the May payment and find out what's going on with the auto deduct.

Priority can't take card info for payments, so I hung up from the first call and called LMCU. That helpful person told me how to find my account numbers on my mobile app. I called Priority back and took care of the payment. BUT I have to remember to check with them on June 1 to make sure auto pay is happening, AND I still have to contact Social Security and have them send evidence of the payments I'll be receiving starting in July either to me (via Chris Creek , who is getting my mail) or (if only it were possible!) directly to the Marketplace. Otherwise, we'll be on this Merry-go-round again in a couple of months.

Coffee finished. I'm ready to go, nearly two hours later."

I didn't even leave after I posted that. Instead, I struck up a conversation with an elderly (can I even use that term at this point?) man who was sitting alone. I ended up sitting down with him and conversing for 20-30 minutes at the Press Coffee Cafe, which was delightful, by the way. It is combined with a flower nursery, and the indoor tables overlook the flowering plants. 

This gentleman, Paul, sounds like he was probably born in the UK (No, I didn't ask. Not sure why.) He reported having lived on the island of Malta, in Colorado, and in Montana, but there may have been other places, as well. His 7 children are spread all over the US. His wife is in a nursing home with Alzheimer's. I liked him. I really enjoyed talking to him. He had a very positive attitude, which I benefited from. It made my day.

Remy and I finally got on our way about 11 a.m. We followed West 200S out of Glendive. We saw this on our way: 

"You can trust your car to the man who wears the star, the big, bright Texaco star!"

The wind was not particularly strong (compared to what I've been encountering), but it was from behind, so riding was pretty easy. I hope, as I ride more, that I will be able to go further and further before the first stop. it's sort of like having to go to the bathroom and waiting and waiting, but once you go, you have to keep making stops to go ... if you know what I mean. I stopped within about 5 miles of leaving Glendive, and I don't think I made it more than 5 miles again after that without a stop. 

Fortunately, the shoulders were great. Where a rumble strip came in for a while, the shoulder widened so it was easy to stay to the right of the strip. When the shoulder narrowed again, the strip disappeared. Circle, MT, tonight's destination, was 47 miles from Glendive (by GPS search, not including getting to the route or the extra riding around I did looking for the coffee shop). I made it 29.1 miles to Lindsay, a town with only one business, a fuel station with some snacks and farm necessities. Surprisingly, Lindsay has full-town WiFi. 

By the time I got there, I had made a number of stops closer and closer together. Remy and I chilled on a bench (well, not really chill, as it was in the 80s), drank water, and waited for Tayler to come along. She had had a hike in the Makoshika State Park in Glendive and was ready to drive out to Circle, so it was easy to get us today. No backtracking.

We drove on to Circle, where the Traveler's Inn awaited us. We have a nice, clean room in a place that doesn't look like much from the street. A couple of restaurants were recommended, but we're eating groceries again. We'll probably visit the grocery store in Circle in the morning for breakfast. This is working out a lot better for my digestion than most of the restaurants we've tried. 

Now, here's the next bump in the road. My back wheel keeps coming loose. Ever since I added the cart, I've been having problems keeping the wheel on. The piece that the cart hooks into is threaded onto the back axle between the frame and the right side piece. In Medora, the wonderful Jennifer added some small spacers to enable the cart piece to rest more smoothly along the frame. It may be a matter of just making sure everything is screwed in tightly every time I get on the bike, or perhaps a bike shop could put a slightly longer axle piece in (bike friends, is this likely?) or figure something else out to keep it tightly attached. It is pretty disturbing to ride nearly 30 miles, then pick the bike up to put it on the car and have the back wheel come off. 

Because Tayler has friends in Bozeman, and because that is one of only a few bicycling shops in Montana (almost all of which are in the south and west, and none of which are near where we are), we are planning to drive to Bozeman tomorrow and maybe spend the weekend. We talked about driving all the way back up to the Northern Tier, but it doesn't really make sense, since we'll be driving back to Great Falls from Havre a few days hence, anyway. So, unless someone who reads this has some suggestions for fixing the wheel problem, we'll head to Bozeman by car tomorrow and then drive to Great Falls to continue the bike trip in a day or two. 

I am much happier about all the bumps in the road these days. Without the insurance stuff, I wouldn't have met Paul and enjoyed his company. Who knows what developments driving to Bozeman will bring? I rode 29.1 miles, and I feel good about it. C'est la vie!

Short ride, not so short post

We left Medora this morning by car, driving to a point about 45 miles south of Wibaux, MT (Baker), where the ride had been recommended as "beautiful." The nearest place to stay from Baker appeared to be about 80 miles away in Miles City, so I knew I wouldn't get all the way there, but I thought it would be enjoyable with a SSW wind and gorgeous prairie all around.

While in Baker, we stopped at Lawler's for coffee. Everyone in the town and in the coffee shop was extremely friendly. One woman stopped to talk to us and found out our story. I'm sorry now that I didn't get her name.

As I rode out of Baker, I became aware of a couple of things. While the paved shoulder was fairly wide (about 30 inches), it had a significant rumble strip, so in order to keep all of our tires (bike and cart) from riding on the rumble strip I had to stay waaayyy to the right. The wind made this a bit challenging, but overall it was such a beautiful day that I figured I could handle it. The next thing I noticed was that the person who recommended this ride to me probably did it on a weekend because the number of enormous trucks passing in both directions was pretty off-putting.

Nevertheless, Remy and I rode on, westward, singing (well, I was singing) Home on the Range. The first time I stopped (to adjust something, I think), I pulled off onto a small paved area next to the road. As I stood with my legs straddling the bike, each time a truck passed I had to ground myself (horse stance) to keep from being blown over along with the bike and cart. I began to think, "This is probably pretty stupid." But we kept going.

(As I rode, I became aware of a car slowing next to me. There in the passenger seat was the woman we'd been talking to at the coffee shop. She cheered for me and gave me a thumbs up. Made me smile for quite a while.)

Same thing happened at the next stop. Same thought. Looked up how far we had to go to get to a town. Not far. Then I looked at the map more thoroughly. Once I'd arrived at the next town, there was only one way to keep going and that was along the same road (12). There didn't seem to be an obvious place where the trucks were coming from and going to that would take them off the route anytime soon. 9.0 miles. We called Tayler.

As we sat beside the road, before calling Tayler, I took this bit of video (hope it works). It will give you some idea what we were dealing with most of the time.

I got to thinking, "What would I do if I couldn't call Tayler?" One thing is likely -- I wouldn't have been where I was. I would be sticking to the known Adventure Cycling routes. So, back to square one, so to speak. 

We are now in Glendive. It is too late for me to acquire the Lewis and Clark map from Dickinson, ND, to Missoula, MT. My choices are to strike out on my own (perhaps with some advice from a local bike shop) to find an acceptable route that's more direct, or follow the Northern Tier maps that I have as far as Havre, MT, then drive (due to the fact that the road between Havre and Great Falls looks to be a main artery) to Great Falls, and pick up the Lewis and Clark maps I have from there. The Adventure Cycling person I spoke to this morning was apologetic that they don't currently have PDFs of their maps that people can order. I hope that's something that comes along fairly soon.

Tayler and I talked a lot about how I could make this journey work better for me. One thing I think I need to do is ride every day (unless I do a tremendous amount and need a rest day - something that hasn't happened so far), even if it's just 10 miles, like today. I've thought about sending her on ahead and forging on alone, but I doubt my ability to do it at this point. If she went on with the car, I would have to figure things out for myself, which would be good for me, I think. It would also mean that I could stop after 15 or 20 miles if I needed to, and I wouldn't be holding anyone else up. 

Another possibility would be for me to send her on to Seattle by some other means of transport. Then I would drive 20 miles, ride out and back and stop. Drive 20 (or 30) miles, ride out and back and stop. At least I would still have the car option.

Tayler has observed that perhaps the sense of homelessness is getting to me. She has (occasionally) thought about "going home," but realizes that that's different for me since the house is sold. She recommended that I think more about the idea of buying a Class B motorhome, so that I have a home that I can take with me. 

For the time being, tomorrow at least, we'll keep on as we have been. 

One thing we did today that really made my day was to buy groceries and make lunch at a picnic table on the edge of a lake (and a bank parking lot) in Baker. It felt so good to have healthy food in its raw state and to just munch on things that I like. We have lots left for supper, as well. Yep. Definitely going to do more of this. 

Remy is adjusting to the trailer riding. He squeals when we start, but as soon as I start singing he knows we're on our way, and I'm not going to stop for a while. Then he settles down. I can see him in the rearview mirror. He's not lying down or sleeping. He's keeping an eye on things. But as I got sandblasted by the wind and trucks today, I was happy that he was inside, protected, behind the screen of the cart.

We're at a Comfort Inn. I think I'll go sit in the hot tub and read.

Homesick

I suppose it's normal to feel a bit bereft, having left so many people and "secure" things behind. It just hit me today, 16 days into the journey. As we sat having lunch at Boots Bar and Grill in Medora, ND, on the edge of the Theodore Roosevelt National Park, I said, "I'm having a little trouble today." If Tayler hadn't asked what it was about, I probably wouldn't have gotten teary, but there you are. The rootlessness has come home to roost, at least for today. These things are constantly changing, of course, so I doubt that tomorrow will feel the same.

We left Dickinson by car this morning because Tayler had driven to Theodore Roosevelt yesterday and remembered some road construction that we thought might be a problem for me, as part of my prescribed route was to take me on Interstate 94. That may sound horrible to some of you, and it's certainly not the most desirable place to ride -- on the shoulder of the Interstate -- but it is direct, and the shoulders are large. Nevertheless, in a construction area where traffic is down to one lane, it seemed ill-advised. As we drove the stretch from Dickinson to Medora, we saw many fracking sites. I don't know what the rest of the bicycle route would have shown, but I know it wouldn't have been much fun if I was biking past all of that ugliness.

First stop was at the Visitor Center just off 94 before Medora.

This was the first of many places that we saw this:

... a humongous buffalo turd. The buffalo and wild horses roam freely throughout the park.

It's a beautiful day in Medora. Not many things are open yet, pre-season, but the ones that are are very friendly. Jennifer at Dakota Cyclery sold me a Presta adapter (in case I need to use a gas station air pump) and a new mirror (mine is cracked and getting loose); and she went above and beyond finding something to help my cart attachment fit better on my rear wheel.

From the cyclery, we went to Boots Bar & Grill for lunch. (It was that or the gas station.) I had a buffalo burger and sweet potato fries. It was a little pricey, but delicious. When we left the restaurant, we saw this fellow in the parking lot.

It was later identified by a  naturalist at the park as a hog-nosed snake, a constrictor and not dangerous to us. 

Next, we walked to the Post Office, so Tayler could mail a postcard; then across the street to the only gift shop open so far that we had seen. The clerk who was working there, Charlotte, was from Tennessee, traveling with her two cats in a mobile home, and stopping off for the summer to work in Medora so she didn't run out of money. She gave me a couple of tips: a book to read, and a website from which to find work if I want to keep up the nomadic life after my current journey.

We had been planning to take in more of the Theodore Roosevelt National Park, so we drove to their entrance where I purchased a year-long national parks pass ($80, and worth every penny of it!). I figured we'll use it as we go through Montana, Idaho, Oregon, and Washington, and I'll probably continue to use it as I go south through California, and then on the way back to Michigan -- if that's what I end up doing. 

I had thought I would ride around the park, but I'm glad I didn't. It would have taken a lot of concentration going up and down the steep hills, and I don't think I would have been able to give enough attention to the amazing vistas around every bend. Yes, folks, this is the Badlands, but it's not as barren as what I remember from South Dakota when Abby and I passed through there a few years ago. There's a lot of sage everywhere, prairie dogs, bison, and wild horses. Tayler, Remy, and I hiked the Wind Canyon and Buck Creek trails and otherwise just drove peacefully through the area. 

These are mostly Wind Canyon views, above.

Wild horses.

Panorama from Buck Creek, with two Taylers!

I have to comment that the vastness of the silence, especially in this particular spot, was deeply moving.

And one more of me and Remy at the Buck Creek site. Adios for now!