Roll Columbia, Roll

Thursday, Aug. 27

There’s no denying it. We are on the home stretch.

Our mo/hotel was an absolute pleasant surprise. I did my usual on the phone, coming into Idaho Falls: “Do you have a really good deal for two for tonight w/ AAA discount?" First call to a Best Western was ridiculous: $99! But second call was met with:

“We sure do! King bed, internet, micro and fridge, pool, workout room, AND complete free HOT breakfast for $69!" Woohoo! Plus they had fabulous new mattresses, pillows and comforters.

The breakfast was a kick in the pants! The restaurant (attached to the hotel), is very British! Everyone is a transplant (to Idaho Falls??). Just sorry we couldn’t stay around for their “proper” fish-and-chips!

But the day and the road stretched before us. We were excited about doing northern loops in Idaho. We could get home tonight, but why push it?

Then we got the call.

Poor Britta. The falling down episodes and earache of yesterday, had turned into up and sick all night (not to mention the door closed behind her on a trip down the hall and she was locked out of her room till morning). So soon, a trip to the campus health center. From what we could understand, the doctor medicated her up and she went back to her room to sleep. Thank goodness for an Oregon contact in Naveda: Sylvia Martin! Sylvia was able to get Britta some Tylenol. We’ve heard nothing since, but trust in the Powers that Be!

In any event, we wanted to stay to the main byways to be in phone contact… so that cut our trip down to manageable proportions (just 14 hours on the road).

We ambled through Twin Falls, and the river canyon. In Boise, we took advantage of a recommended drive-in (finally milk shakes made w/ hard ice cream!).

I read out loud the rest of the book Sum (Rewind: a brand new book about 40 fanciful scenarios of afterlife). The author is very clever, creative, smart. Each vignette is like a Twilight Zone or Outer Limits episode. Truth to tell, I think the author wanted to write a book on different images of God, and knew it would not sell as well as one on what happens after we die. After completing the book (with all of the above taken into consideration), I was left vaguely depressed. Sigh.

Coming into sight of the Colombia River Valley (really a fjord), is always a visual dessert smorgasbord for me. It goes from high desert to plains to forest… all with the river sweeping majestically along. The ghosts of history are everywhere: the various tribes of Indians who lived, warred, traded (yes, even slave-traded), welcomed pioneers and then defended themselves against them, Oregon Trail travelers who came west with all sorts of motivations.

Our anomaly of a car (Suzuki XL7 … and I say anomaly because we NEVER see another one like it anywhere! I think it is some sort of joke no one has told us about.), actually did very well cross-country. Although the mileage is not terrific: 22mpg avg, it never got hot, never needed water or oil, and never lagged going up hills. There was plenty of room and plenty of comfort. Still, I envy all the cute hideaway pockets of the RAV. Sigh.

We pushed and got into Eugene at 10:30pm. Everything seems fine, thanks to Nick, our wonderful dog feeder-vegie waterer-mail retriever!

**********

Is this the end of the blog? Oh, I’ve still a few random thoughts in my head, uneditorialized impressions, and a bit of philosophizing about this new period in our lives.

Perhaps what lies ahead is truly the adventure. I would like to think so.

Winding Home

Still in Wyoming. As we drove through the changing landscape of river, gorgeous red rock, and evergreens, we went by Jerry Spence’s Trial Lawyer’s College, just out of Dubois (pronounced Doo-boys).

We heard from a very excited Britta that she had secured the 2^nd Horn chair, loved her Strategies for Academic Success professor, had landed a six-hour a week job as receptionist in her dorm, made some babysitting contacts, and that generally life was better than best. She actually was giggling.

And so we headed to Grand Teton and Yellowstone today. Funny, in all these decades, I’ve seen neither of these American icons. Grand Teton, by sheer acreage is much smaller than Yellowstone, but it is breathtakingly beautiful. You can drive seamlessly from one park to the other, which we did. That put us entering Yellowstone from the South Entrance.

All the images I’ve ever had of Yellowstone were of lines of cars waiting to get in, and bears going up to the car windows. There were neither. The landscape was pretty dry, and hardly any cars. Our destination was, of course, Old Faithful. It took us over an hour to get to Old Faithful. Ah, here we found cars, and people!

The landscape is more moonscape. The geyser blows about every 90 minutes. We were in luck, as it was scheduled to go in 40! We claimed our seat and waited in the bright sun.

It blew early (ah the poor tourists still buying up souvenirs). It was pretty darned spectacular, and everyone had a grand view. And then it was over. Just the wisps of steam to indicate it would be back (like Arnold!).

The old Lodge is spectacular… several stories of log construction. We headed out of the park (another hour-plus) towards the West side. On the way out is where we saw the wildlife: bison, an elk herd (about 12; some only 20 feet away from where I was standing), and deer. Never did see a bear. Many (people) were river fly fishing on this gorgeous early evening. We drove by one camp ground entrance, but there were no lines! (I wonder how they keep out the dangerous critters?).

Out on the West exit, we were in Montana, but quickly morphed into Idaho. This is a part of Idaho I’ve never seen. The first “metropolis” is Ashton, where we actually have a United Methodist Church (the joke is being assigned to the outermost post of isolated Ashton). It actually is a lovely, well-developed town on the edge of lots of vacation communities.

Also, there is a family in our church who has always talked about their cabin which is two hours “out” from Ashton… but mentioned there is a really good drive-in they always stop at for the French Fries.

Going on that information only, I figured out which one it was! And yes, the fries were amazing (Warning: health nuts, please stop reading right here!). By what I could tell… the fries are given their initial fry (French fries have to be deep-fried two separate times), and then the second time, I “think” they are dipped in a a light batter and fried again. Really tasty, really hot, really crisp on the outside and soft on the inside, really fattening!

Call from Britta: she’s run out of money buying books. Reality check on the cost of higher education.

And so, as the sun set over the flat farmlands of eastern Idaho, we headed for Idaho Falls, our final destination of the day.

A Monumental Day

TUESDAY, AUGUST 25, 2009

Up the mountain(s) we went to catch Mt. Rushmore in all of her morning glory. The day was perfect, and we beat the rush and crush of the last of the summer crowds. For all of the commercialism in the town below, the Forest Service has kept this venue tasteful and natural. As you walk to the vista point for the mountain, you walk along an “avenue” that is flanked on both sides by flags of all the states. I never knew Oregon was the 33^rd state to join the union.

We walked down about 150 stone steps to the ‘sculptor’s house.’ There a Ranger gave a talk on the carving of Mt. Rushmore. As spectacular a sight is the mountain, the facts and story behind its sculpting is more so.

The project was begun simply to bring tourists to South Dakota and the Black Hills. The sculptor Gutzon Borglum agreed to head the project. He conceived the idea, made many models, organized some 400 laborers who dynamited and carved for 14 years. Every morning they climbed hundreds of wooden stairs, hauling all their heavy tools. There was never a death in 14 years. However, there was never enough money to complete the project. What we see, is not the final Borghum vision. You can see in the picture that the 1-to-12 scale model included the four presidents’ clothes and hands.

Our next stop (17 miles away), looked forward to b Brian was the Crazy Horse Monument. In 1939, Boston-born Korczak Ziolkowski was asked by a Lakota (Sioux) chief to create a monument because “My fellow chiefs and I would like the white man to know the red man has great heroes, too.”

Unlike Mt. Rushmore, with a working cast of hundreds, only Ziolkowski worked on this monument, which would dwarf Rushmore. He first carved Crazy Horse’s face in wood. There were no pictures, so he relied on the verbal descriptions of those who knew him. When completed (and no one knows when), it will stand 563 feet high and be more than two football fields in length. Crazy Horse’s face alone measures 87.5 feet (all four Rushmore presidents would fit within just this space). Ziolkowski spent the rest of his life working on this, until his death in 1982. Seven of his 10 children, and his wife now work to complete the project. Twice he turned down funding from the government, accepting only private donations. He started a college scholarship program for the area’s Indian students, an art education program, and his master plan includes the Indian Museum of North America and a state of the art medical training center.

Crazy Horse is pointing out towards the Black Hills, and this quote is pivotal: "My land is where my people are buried!"

South Dakota to Wyoming.

Tonight we finally heard from Britta: she loves her roommate, they serve dinner early from 4:30-5:30 (remember the N-Ms usually eat around 9pm), she auditioned on the French Horn for band, and she has to take math. She misses her kind of jam, and wants us to send garbanzo beans so she can make her own humus (not quite sure how she’s going to puree them). While we were there we did experience the water has quite a bit of sulfur in it and reportedly makes your hair and nails grow fast!

It seems the days grow short as we travel closer each day to Oregon. Tomorrow we will travel to Grand Teton, and Yellowstone which I have never seen.

A Three State Day

Iowa. Nebraska. A smattering of South Dakota. At least along our route, there is not much culinarily enlightening. I wonder how hard it is to NOT overwork mashed potatoes. And will I ever see hard ice cream again in this lifetime? We have left sweet tea behind us.

I notice the land changing again. We've left behind the corn and soy, and now it is strictly cattle, grazing, and growing hay. The topography (both visually and materially) has changed to land-locked sand dune mounds, covered with grass. It begins to look like an endless golf course, with more than the occasional sand trap!

And eeeewwwww!! The bugs! I thought they were bad going through Idaho’s evening. Not even close to these critters who insist on flying straight into our front grill, whereupon they are bar-b-q’d, and stink to high heaven; so much so that whenever we stop, the yellow jackets find us and buzz around. Yick and double-yick!!

We slid into the Mt. Rushmore Memorial area early evening. I had no idea how this was all laid out. The first town I read about was Keystone. It sounded quaint. I did a search for a motel… and the prices had risen steeply. I chose one w/ cute pine furniture.

OMG. As we drove into town I thought the State Fair had met Coney Island Boardwalk had met It’s a Small World! Workers’ trailers and tourist stores and eating places and motels were all crammed into every nook and cranny. Oh, and my rustic hotel? Not. Just crammed in there with all the other motels with a very small room. But it did have the pine furniture!

We thought we’d drive up the mountain and take a sunset look at Rushmore and continue on to dinner at the historic State Game Lodge. Once out of Keystone, it’s amazing and lovely and green.

After seeing the faces of Mt. Rushmore all my life, it truly is exciting to see them in realtime… even at a distance. Driving the 40 minutes to our dinner destination, I discovered Custer City, which is much more tame and a real town.

The Lodge is gorgeous and surrounded by forest and campgrounds and wildlife (bear, mountain goats, deer, and lots of wild turkeys all over the place!). The Forest Service employs students to work throughout the park. Our server was from Oregon City!

A Change of Seasons....

It is Sunday, and our last day in Naveda, It is a day of breakfasts: first a "light" one at our B&B. Then everyone is invited to the college President's home for a breakfast reception; a stand up affair. We picked Britta up at her dorm and drove out to the ELCA church with Pastor Kim (her husband teaches chemistry in Kansas.. and has a terrific bass voice and a great sense of humor).

It was a very nice service. The ELCA has just finished it's conference. Among other things, it is now in full communion with us United Methodists, and they have passed an historic resolution on human sexuality as it pertains to various gendered people. Imagine the vulnerable position of this thirty-something woman, explaining what this means to a mid-western small town congregation. She did it with grace. Britta ended up winning the Study Bible, and was delighted to see lots of little ones in the service (an hour and a half). I was a bit surprised that Lutherans did not serve any coffee after the service. Sigh.

We went back to campus for yet another breakfast; brunch this time. Students are expected to 'dress up" (which might mean nice pants or a dress) for certain times and occasions at Cottey, Sunday through brunch being one of those. The brunch was as good as it had been touted to be, and there were white table clothes and we didn't have to clear our dishes. For us "civilians" the cost was only $8 for a buffet that included smoked salmon, baklava, blintzes, and a whole host of other goodies.

Then it was a long drawn-out goodbye with Britta who was being torn by her excitement at meeting her roommate and getting on with college... and saying goodbye to us (mostly to Brian). My last bit of motherly advise was that she knew how I felt about tattoos. Nevertheless, I'd rather have her bypass the sketchy place in Naveda and come back to the clean, reputable one in Eugene. She was way ahead of me, and had already figured that out (the second photo above is of Britta walking to her dorm after our good-byes).

And we were off! Brian and I... sans children, for the first time in 29.5 years. The road and life stretched ahead of us. We reorganized the car and set the GPS for Kansas City to the place I'd been reading about that has the "best fried chicken in America!" It took just two hours to get there. Not that we were hungry .. but you can't pass up a place like that. It looks small when you walk in, but it is huge and there are nooks and crannies all over to sit down.

The waitress couldn't have been nicer. We ordered two 'family style chicken dinners' which meant we got two breasts and 6 pieces of dark meat... all on a platter, a bowl of mashed potatoes, a bowl of drippings-gravy, a bowl of green beans (typical 'south' in that they had been boiled at least a couple of hours), and a basket of cinnamon rolls. The chicken was very good, and again, I picked it up in my fingers. Of course we couldn't finish it all, but we took it with us (and the waitress gave us extra gravy). We knew it would be good later!

So on the road again. This time in search of Faucett, MO, where my mother was born (almost 89 years ago), and my grandmother was raised. It is only about an hour way, and 7 miles from St. Joseph. I continue to like Missouri. The hills are rolling and lush. Still, the only two crops I see are corn and soy for ethanol. And very strange is that homes boast of big, expansive grass lawns .. but we have yet to see a single home vegetable garden, or even an orchard, for that matter.

Faucett is on a hill. And it is small. It's very strange to drive through a town and know that you had relatives living there for a good long time and not know where. I looked at houses and tried to imagine which might have belonged to my grandmother's family ... large enough to raise four girls, with a working farm .. but certainly not rich or ostentatious. I took pictures of some likely candidates. (This was not unlike some six years ago being in Southern Sweden, looking for my paternal grandmother's home and family headstones).

We found the Christian church, which to my recollection, is the one to which my grandmother's family belonged. And then we found a (the?) cemetery: the Faucett Cemetery. Bri and I split forces and looked for my grandmother's maiden name: Corrington. There were Meads, and Means, and lots of other great first and last names (I love Fannie, Horatio, Sallie), but no Corringtons; and believe me, we looked at all the headstones!

So we left Faucett. I don't know if I'll ever get back; but I've been there once. I touched a part of my history, and the image lives in my mind's eye.

Then we went into St. Joseph .. a really big city (some 70,000). It is a place filled with history and museums, old and grand brick buildings; hilly and picturesque. St. Joseph was the beginning point (Sacramento and San Francisco being the end) for the 18-month Pony Express "experiment."

We would continue through Missouri, to Sioux City Iowa and arrive at 9pm. Using all the technology at my fingertips, I surfed the net and found through Priceline a very good motel w/ breakfast, two beds (and all the 'stuff' that makes it nice), for $55! Yeah!!

The landscape has flattened out, but it is still very green. I'm getting used to it. It's still too much freeway for me, but that will change (I think) tomorrow, when we head to Mt. Rushmore.

How to (and not to) welcome!

It's Saturday, and we're all beginning to feel much more at home. At our B&B there are two families from Washington State who also have brought their daughters to Cottey.

First stop is orientation for students and parents. By now, the girls have made friends and prefer each other to their families of origin. Everything we hear and see is impressive. There are 150 in Britta's class from all over the Untied States and 10% from other countries. There is tons of support in whatever endeavor they need, including full time tutors, free medical, counseling, and on and on. It's very clear, this is exactly the place Britta should be.

After lunch, Brian and I took a bus tour of Naveda. It is small, ailing in some respects; a place that time forgot in others. Their share of problems include a growing Meth problem, unemployment, and job losses. Many who live here are transplants who absolutely love it. There is another community college which has reciprocal arrangements with Cottey.

Then we took a walking tour of the campus and were even more amazed and impressed. The college is 125 years old; a two-year women's college supported by PEO. There are 3 dorms. Only 2 or 3 women are 'commuters.' When we asked whether anyone wants to live off campus, the question was met with incredulity. Why? Everything is here: tight community and fabulous food!

We saw an amazing sports complex with a regulation length pool, gym, dance studio, workout room (with flat screen TVs thank you!). There is a science building with state of the art equipment.... a performing arts center with two theaters (they bring in amazing groups and the students pay nothing) and an art gallery. And there is a Music building.

The local Wallmart is enjoying record profits with Cottey students returning. It is painful for us Oregonians to pay sales tax... but that is offset by much better prices on just about everything (gas anyone @ $2.30 a gallon?).

Tonight was the Community Welcome to the new Cottey students, along with their parents, faculty, staff, and community leaders. There was a very good "bar-b-q" (which means pulled meat w/ sauce that you pile on hamburger buns). The local churches come and set up tables around and let the girls know what is they have to offer.

For me, it was a clear message in how you welcome, attract, and invite (or not). We of course were pleased that the United Methodist church is only a block away from the college. And they were at the bar-b-q. Britta too was very excited about connecting with the church, so she could continue her work with children. However, there were no young(er) people at their table ... all older adults. As Britta asked about possibilities to work with children, she was rebuffed at every corner. Seems they are all set and don't 'need' any help with the nursery or teaching Sunday School. The pastor seemed to look beyond her as an individual to just one of a group. She walked away disappointed ... yet determined to continue questioning other churches.

The Missouri Synod pastor was very friendly, but they have an 8am service. The Christian Church had possibilities. The Presbyterian pastor was very solicitous. Our last stop (at my suggestion), was to give the ELCA (Lutheran) table a try. At their table, there were only 3 people: the pastor, her husband and an older woman who is a tutor at Cottey. They all had matching black T-shirts and she had a collar. They had a DVD playing that illustrated what their service looked like. They gave out refrigerator magnets with their stained glass window and all the info (including their web site). Britta entered their drawing for a Study Bible. But she walked away impressed, and wanting to check out the church.

We set out to find the church (not an easy thing). However, we went past the local greasy spoon. It's one of my favorite pictures, in that it shows a slice of Americana: high school boys at the counter on a Saturday night.

Finally, at dusk we found the church; it is fairly new and a couple miles out in the country surrounded by a new housing development.

It was a good day, and tomorrow (the day we will leave) will come all too soon.

Britta's First Day at Cottey College

Britta's first

day at Cottey

College in

Naveda, MO.

It was a full

day, starting

w/ a great case of the nerves. When we got to campus, and everyone was amazingly friendly, Britta was ready to go. She found her room (third floor walk-up), we unloaded the car, and began the move-in process. After some informational talks, Britta joined her classmates, and we sat with other dazed parents and found out all sorts of interesting facts. There are only 306 women students. They have an amazing support system for academics. All but 2 or 3 live on campus for all two years. The food is fabulous (and not just when the parents visit). We took a tour of the campus and were even more impressed. We took a tour of Naveda, and saw all of the small charm it offers. Thankfully, there is a Wallmart close by (or is that 'Buy') ... and they alone should roll out the red carpet for all the business these young women and their families throw their way. It was a full and tiring day... and we said good-bye to Britta as she went to spend the first night in her dorm room (her room mate from Denver arrives on Sunday).

Images of Washington DC

Day #6 ~ Wednesday ~ August 19, 2009