travel sketches: crossing the country in a few lines a day, part 1
Preparing for the coming summers travel always spurs me to
look back on our past trips. In such a
mood I recently read my travel journals from the last two summers, 2016 and
2017. For the most part my daily entries
were brief and sketchy, written at night after the kids were asleep or scrolled
in shaky pen, an attempt to get down a few lines during our days drive. I recall that many of these entries felt too simple at the time of their writing and likely of little future interest. But I wrote them anyway. And as I read them almost two years later I discovered that recollections in any form have the power to transport. Many passages were more eloquent than I had thought them to be, and those that were simple were
poignant too because of their honesty and immediacy. Eloquent or slight - all of them meaningful because of the memories they conjured. Below are a few lines from each day of our travels during the summer of 2016: the lines that speak to me now because
of or despite their eloquence.
Summer 2016
July 7, 2016 (Poplar Grove, IL to Sioux Falls, SD)
The kids played and swam and we played together…bedtime not
too early and not too late. No
campfire. Us four adults sat in lawn
chairs and talked for about an hour. We
laughed and joked. It is good to have
friends.
July 8, 2016 (Sioux Falls, SD to Badlands National Park, SD)
I notice repeatedly our fellow travelers on the
highway. Trucks towing fifth-wheels and
tiny sedans with New York license plates packed so the windows are full and I
think back to college when that was me, and I think about all we have in common
on the road… Mile after mile the landscape passes in the same low undulating
pattern, green prairie, sometimes dotted by rolls of still green hay, sometimes
cattle.
July 9, 2016 (Badlands National Park, SD to Black Hills
National Forest, SD)
The Black Hills rose abruptly from the western prairie. We entered them through Rapid City, climbing
quickly after a rain shower; the smell of the pine forest was enchanting and
brought tears to my eyes.
July 10, 2016 (Black Hills National Forest, SD to Buffalo,
WY)
We painstakingly completed the Junior Ranger workbooks at
Jewel Cave National Monument. And all
six, that is sixty toes, were sworn in as Junior Rangers and all received
badges. The effort was more than worth
it when we watched them, all standing together with their right hands raised
promising to protect this park and all natural places.
July 11, 2016 (Buffalo, WY to Cody, WY)
As we neared the latter portion of our drive sheer rock faces
began to reveal themselves: the Big Horn Mountains. We were met by rich colors and an expansive
view that was quite simply, overwhelming.
We have now driven nearly a thousand miles and the single constant we
have encountered is change. The land
changes subtly at times, moving gradually from prairie to precipice, or it can
change almost without warning, sheer cliffs seeming to bound forth from the
landscape. I have driven across this
country before, but these miles have brought me to humility and reverence in
the face of a vastness that our eyes cannot measure. Grand places stand before us as if they were
finished presentations, complete works for us to enjoy. But change is the constant in the natural
world and everything beneath and before us is changing at this moment and each
moment that came before and that will come after. No, grandness was not made for us; we are the
privileged ones, to live at this moment to witness it.
July 12, 2016 (Cody, WY to Yellowstone National Park)
It is Yellowstone day!
There is nothing to say about Yellowstone National Park that has not
already been said of its beauty, its vastness, its wonder. For me, entering this place was the
realization of a life long obsession.
For all of my conscious memory I have wanted to visit Yellowstone
National Park. This desire was the
making of Frances Joyce Farnsworth’s sweet little book Cubby in Wonderland and
my mother’s reading of it to me with
such a beautiful sense of wonder and imagination.
July 13, 2016 (Yellowstone National Park)
It is fourteen miles from the west entrance of the park at
West Yellowstone, MT where we are camped, to Madison Junction inside the park,
where you turn left to the northeast or right to the southern portion of the
Grand Loop road and Lower, Midway and Upper Geyser Basins. Our drive in today was uneventful, but as we
entered the geyser basin region the traffic and population of visitors
exploded.
July 14, 2016 (Yellowstone National Park)
Sitting in a line of stopped cars, I brought out Cubby in
Wonderland and started reading the chapters about places we have already
visited in the park. We stopped at a
pull out and saw a family of Elk crossing a river behind a herd of grazing
bison. We spotted an Eagle and ate lunch
at the edge of a meadow. Later in the
day we walked the wooden boardwalks around Mammoth Hot Springs and we were
stunned. This is my favorite place among
those we have visited in the park. We
had dinner in the lodge and made it back to the campground in time for a fire
with friends. It was our last night
together.
July 15, 2016 (West Yellowstone, MT to Jackson, WY)
Yellowstone was a wonder, but Grand Teton feels like paradise.
The Chapel of the Transfiguration was my grandmother’s
favorite place in the Tetons. Seeking it out was a kind of pilgrimage, an
homage to her that became transcendent for me.
I do not have words to capture the experience of my visiting. Peace is palpable here. My eyes filled with tears and I continued to
cry feeling overcome with emotion. This
tiny chapel is a lens. The natural world
is so immense, so much bigger than us in every scope and yet this tiny place
guides us to be bigger.
July 16, 2016 (Jackson, WY to Boise, ID)
We left the campground at 11:30 am, driving out on highway
26 along the Snake River through the Targee National Forest. Slowly the road evened out and we entered
fields flanked on both sides by low hills.
Miles and miles of wheat fields line the road, bright green that spans
out across the valley to the foothills.
Elton John’s County Comfort on the radio seems the perfect
soundtrack.
We have traveled 2,000 miles and this has been our first
long, dare I say boring, driving day.
Eastern Idaho is flat golden prairie spotted with sagebrush, a muted
green that blends into the monotony. But
the kids are traveling so well.
July 17, 2016 (Boise, ID to Bend, OR)
We arrived in Bend in mid-afternoon. On the eastern side of the Cascade mountain
range the Oregon landscape seems otherworldly compared to the rolling mountains
and lush forests of the Cascades and coastal range. As a youth I did not have very much
appreciation for this seemingly barren land, drier and browner than the thick
river valley surrounds of our home site.
But driving through it now I was struck time and again by its arid beauty
and ever-changing terrain; state highway 26 gracefully guiding us through it. Of course today was poignant for another
reason: it marked the first time I have returned to my home state in four
years. Any inch of Oregon would have
felt like heaven today.
July 18, 2016 (Bend, OR)
We are camping two nights near Bend in La Pine State Park
situated in the exquisite old-growth Deschutes National Forest. This is my favorite campsite yet on our trip.
On day two we went to the Newberry Crater Visitor Center and
learned about volcanic activity from a very cool park ranger talking over a
relief map. Late in the afternoon on
Tuesday the 19th we headed farther west to Grants Pass. We passed through the heart of the Rouge
River-Siskiyou National Forest nearly bordering Crater Lake on Highway 62. Growing up this was my favorite drive; the
highway closely lined with immense Douglas Firs creates a passage that is
almost transcendent. If there is a
heaven, this passage would be my tunnel of light.
Note:
For reasons I won’t speculate about here, this is where my
journal ends, although our trip lasted another two weeks and took us to some
our yet to be favorite places. The
Redwood forest of northern California, the California coast highway,
Disneyland, Zion National Park, the Rocky Mountains and finishing with a long
two day drive across the planes of Nebraska and Iowa to return home. I wish I could read the words I would have
written in those places.
With gratitude,
Joanna
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