USA road trip

Road Trip: Seattle, the Pacific Ocean, and Portland

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November 12: Roslyn, Washington to Seattle. Starting mileage: 36,363.

Today, we began a three-night whirlwind across the Pacific Northwest. We left Roslyn for one night in Seattle, one night at the Pacific Ocean, and one night in Portland. Despite the overcast skies and the frequent rain squalls, it was not enough time in any one of these places.

Over the Snoqualmie Pass to Seattle

We drove out of Northern Exposure’s Cicely heading west over the Cascade Mountain Range, and passed over Snoqualmie Pass just before a snow storm. First, we would spend a day in Seattle with my step-brother seeing the views from Columbia Center Tower and the Space Needle, riding the Light Rail and Monorail, and catching up over a couple of meals.

snow snoqualmie pass washington
Passing through precipitation in Snoqualmie Pass, Washington. We loved these vistas of water, trees, and the snowy, fog-covered mountains. 
Trees road snow mountains washington snoqualmie pass
Trees hug the road as we passed through Snoqualmie Pass, Washington.
Elliott Bay Puget Sound from Columbia Center Tower Seattle Washington
Looking West into Elliott Bay and Puget Sound from Columbia Center Tower. Seattle, Washington.
Space needle puget sound columbia Center tower seattle Washington
Looking North at the Space Needle and Puget Sound from Columbia Center Tower. Seattle, Washington.
East at I-90's floating bridge across Lake Washington to Mercer Island. From Columbia Center Tower, Seattle, Washington.
Looking East at I-90’s floating bridge across Lake Washington to Mercer Island. From Columbia Center Tower, Seattle, Washington.
Mama Lucy walking the hills of downtown Seattle, Washington.
Mama Lucy walking the hills of downtown Seattle, Washington.
Mama Lucy at the Space Needle, Seattle, WA.
Mama Lucy at the Space Needle, Seattle, WA.
The Space Needle, Seattle, WA
The Space Needle, Seattle, WA.
Neon Monorail sign. Seattle WA
Neon Monorail sign. Seattle WA. Neon looks extra special in this grey, rainy, foggy environment. More NEON Seattle!  More NEON!  🙂
Walrus Arctic Club Seattle Washington
Walruses decorate the Arctic Club Building, in Seattle, Washington. It was built in 1916 for the Arctic Club, a social group for those who gained wealth in Alaska’s Klondike Gold Rush.
Seattle, Washington's Light Rail tunnel
Seattle, Washington’s Light Rail tunnel.

 

November 13: Seattle to Ocean Shores, Washington. Starting mileage: 36,445.

Early the next morning, Mama Lucy and I stopped by Pike’s Place Market for a walk around and a stash of food:  savory potato and cheese pirogies from Piroshky Piroshky, light, fluffy and yummy chocolate croissants from Le Panier, and hot coffee from the very first Starbucks. It’s no wonder Starbucks sprouted in Seattle. Hot coffee tastes extra special in that rainy, foggy environment.

Cargo containers in Seattle, Washington.
Cargo containers lined the side of the interstates around Seattle. Washington. Fascinating to see so many of those cargo ships coming/going from Seattle’s port. Seattle imports furniture parts, aircraft parts, and car parts and exports civilian aircraft, soybeans, and corn. The top three trade partners of Seattle Port are China, Canada, and South Korea (according to USTradeNumbers.com).
Neon inside Pike's Place Market. Seattle, WA.
Neon inside Pike’s Place Market. Seattle, WA. 
Mama Lucy at Public Market / Farmers Market - Pike's Place Seattle, WA.
Mama Lucy at Public Market – Farmers Market – Pike’s Place as the sun tries to come out. Seattle, WA.
Public Market Neon in the Sky at Pike's Place. Seattle, WA
At last, blue skies! Public Market neon sign in a nearly-clear sky at Pike’s Place. Seattle, WA.

 

We left a partly sunny Seattle. Next, we planned to stay an afternoon and night at the Pacific Ocean. I’d researched carefully to find a hotel as close to the ocean as possible so that we could enjoy a walk on the beach and the sounds of the Pacific at night. However, weather reports told us we were driving into a storm.

Ocean Shores and an angry Pacific Ocean

The further west we drove, the darker the skies became. Soon, the wind and the rain came. By the time we reached the northern peninsula separating Gray’s Harbor from the ocean, the wind gusts were punching the car. We marveled at how much the trees lining the road could bend, and drove cautiously past blue signs noting this was a “Tsunami Hazard Area”, and we were on a “Tsunami Evacuation Route”. The Pacific, sometimes visible between houses and forests, was angry, tossing waves high and hard into the shoreline. We pulled in to an empty parking lot at the Best Western Lighthouse Suites Inn. The wind nearly blew the door off the car when we got out. Thankfully, we were able to check in early and we tucked in to our cozy room to watch the storm.

Wind swept the grasses; white caps were visible in the fog and mist. This was not a pacified Pacific, but a wide, wild expanse of fury. We sat in our little living room, picnicking on our Pike’s Place market pirogies and croissants. Despite the storm charge in the air, it was a quiet, relaxing afternoon. We read, did laundry, journaled, talked, and daydreamed. We were two of just eighteen guests at the hotel that day. Later, I’d dreamed of waves and flying over mountains like a bird.

Trees and rain, driving from Seattle to Ocean Shores, WA.
Trees and rain, driving into the storm from Seattle to Ocean Shores, WA.
Pouring rain at the Pacific Ocean at Ocean Shores, WA.
Pouring rain at the Pacific Ocean at Ocean Shores, WA.

 

November 14: Ocean Shores, WA to Portland, OR. Starting mileage: 36,596.

Bad road to an angry Pacific Ocean. Ocean Shores, WA.
Bad road to an angry Pacific Ocean. Ocean Shores, WA.

The next morning, the rain seemed to have tapered, but the wind was still raging. Regardless, I walked to the beach to pay respects to the Pacific Ocean…and to thank it for not coming for us during the night. The waves were syncopated, nearly constant and loud. The sand skidded and swirled across the beach. Seagulls sat in forlorn groups near dunes, soaked and caked in muddy sand. I took photos and tried to avoid the sand blasting my eyes and my camera. Sand stung my cheeks, stuck to my hair, and blew into my mouth. The seagulls came closer–one in particular looked like he was asking for help. I wished I’d brought bread. As I took a photo of him with our hotel in the background, the rain returned. There was lightning. I couldn’t hear the thunder for the roar of the Pacific. Turning my back on the wind (but not the ocean!), I pushed my camera into a bag and said “Goodbye” to the Pacific and “Good Luck” to the seagull. I was soaked to the skin by the time I got back to the room.

An angry Pacific Ocean. Ocean Shores, WA.
An angry Pacific Ocean. Ocean Shores, WA.
Soaking wet seagull at the Pacific Ocean in Ocean Shores, Washington.
Soaking wet seagull at the Pacific Ocean. Best Western Lighthouse Suites Inn in the background. Ocean Shores, Washington.

 

Storm at the Pacific Ocean

Turns out, this windstorm was extremely powerful. Winds were sustained at 30-40 mph and gusted to 60 mph. There was a high surf advisory and “significant beach erosion and wave run-up was possible”. Trees were falling. Power lines were coming down. Heavy rain was coming. We didn’t know all that at the time, and went about packing up and loading out. Mama went down for the luggage cart while I changed into dry clothes. And then, the power went out. A pop, a flicker, then silence.

Oh no, Mama would be in the elevator by now! I grabbed the key and ran out of the room towards the elevator, yelling for her. The place was eerily quiet. I heard no other guests, just the wind whipping the flags and the windows. The hallways were lit only by window light. Doors were closed in places I had not even noticed had doors. The stairwell emergency light was on. Just as I hit the darkened lobby, Mama walked out of the elevator. She’d been stuck in the dark elevator for about two minutes. Thankfully, she’d rung the bell and the receptionist got her out on the ground floor right away. They told us that the power was out because of a lightning strike, and just how bad this storm was. Fortunately, the power was out for only about 30 minutes.

Power outage in the storm at Best Western Lighthouse Suites at Ocean Shores, WA.
Lobby lit by the windows and an emergency lantern during the power outage. Best Western Lighthouse Suites Inn at Ocean Shores, WA.

 

On the road to Portland, Oregon

As we drove out of Ocean Shores, we marveled at the raw power of nature, and the fine line this community lived on there next to the powerful Pacific Ocean.

This area of the country has such a fragrant, fresh, stunning beauty because of the trees, mountains, and the rain. However, the logging of trees provides income to the residents. As a result, it is common to see fresh-cut tree logs piled high on semi-trucks, and logs and lumber stacked high at roadside factories. I wondered if the trees along the roads mourned their fallen kin.

Driving from Ocean Shores, Washington to Portland, Oregon
Fresh air and forests line the drive from Ocean Shores, WA to Portland, OR.
Log carrying truck in Oregon Washington Pacific Northwest logging
Alas, this frequent sight, a log-carrying truck in Oregon.
Logging facility in Oregon.
…And, a logging facility in Oregon.
Hairnets for the mountains. Portland, OR.
Hairnets for the mountains. Portland, OR.

 

Finally, we were in Portland for one big reason…to see our friend Tonya and eat at her pizza place, Via Chicago. She makes the pizzas from scratch. If you’re in Portland, you won’t regret stopping by for a tasty Chicago pizza pie.

Tonya Mayhew at Via Chicago. Portland, OR.
Tonya at Via Chicago. Portland, OR.

 

Road Trip: Northern Exposure

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November 10:  Nampa, Idaho to Rosyln, Washington. Starting mileage: 35,946.

We trekked across the northeastern corner of Oregon and north into Washington in a misty fog and rainy snow. We passed Christmas tree farms, wind turbines, signs warning of “Severe Sidewinds Ahead”, and so many trucks carrying logs. This is the Great Pacific Northwest or Cascadia–an area known for environmentalism, coffee drinking, grunge music, and weather-induced depression.

We were headed for a mythical town:  Cicely, Alaska from Northern Exposure.

In real life, the town is called Roslyn, Washington and it is where the TV series, Northern Exposure, was filmed from 1990-1995. The program was quirky, intelligent, kind, funny, full of special people with astute observations, and had so many wise and magical moments. There was Chris Stevens broadcasting from KBHR, Holling Vincouer and Shelly Tambo at the Brick, Indian filmmaker Ed Chigliak, out-of-place New Yorker Dr. Joel Fleishmann, pilot Maggie O’Connell, retired astronaut Maurice Minnifield, quiet Marilyn Whirlwind, level-headed Ruth-Anne Miller, bombastic Adam and Eve, mysterious One-Who-Waits, Chris’ twin Bernard, The Brick’s Dave, Ruth-Anne’s Walt…  These people, their town, and their eccentric ways enchanted us. It was as if we knew them, spent an hour in Cicely with them every week. Even today, putting in a Northern Exposure DVD is like sitting down with dear, old friends. What a profound, exceptional, and beautiful place literally and figuratively.  The town of Roslyn was Cicely. And the town exists.

Roslyn Cafe in Roslyn Washington. Northern Exposure's Cicely, AK.
Roslyn Cafe in Roslyn, Washington, more often known as Northern Exposure’s Cicely, AK. Cue the music and the moose.
Dr. Joel Fleischman's Office in Roslyn, WA Northern Exposure Cicely AK Northwestern Mining Co.
Dr. Joel Fleischman’s office in Cicely, AK (Rosyln, WA). 
Evening on Roslyn's Main Street, Washington. Northern Exposure Cicely AK
Mama Lucy heading down the hill into Roslyn’s Main Street.

Pilgrimage

We arrived in the late afternoon and checked in to the Huckleberry House on the hill. It was a no frills room–in a no TV, no internet, no breakfast “Bed and Breakfast”. But there was a shared coffee maker and refrigerator and it was just a 3-minute walk to great breakfasts at Rosyln Cafe. We spent our time there walking around the buildings featured in the show. We had meals in the Brick and at Village Pizza. Mama Lucy wasn’t a Northern Exposure viewer and missed having a TV and the internet in the evenings. Regardless, we enjoyed the time to walk, reflect, and get some of that fresh mountain air.

the Brick. Rosyln, WA aka Cicely, AK
I expected to see Holling Vincoeur and Shelly Tambo behind the bar in the Brick. Rosyln, WA aka Cicely, AK.
Ruth-Anne Miller's Grocery Store. Rosyln, WA aka Northern Exposure's Cicely, AK.
Ruth-Anne Miller’s Grocery Store. Rosyln, WA aka Northern Exposure’s Cicely, AK.
Playing Trivial Pursuit at Village Pizza on a Saturday night in Roslyn WA, aka Northern Exposure's Cicely, AK.
Playing Trivial Pursuit at Village Pizza on a Saturday night in Roslyn WA, aka Northern Exposure’s Cicely, AK.

 

Let go of that cow, and fling something

As I walked around Cicely/Roslyn, I imagined seeing Chris sitting in the KBHR booth, or that I’d see Shelly running across the street to Ruth-Anne’s, or maybe Ed would come around the corner with a smile. And I fell in love with the cozy colorful homes, with the plumes of smoke coming from chimneys over tin roofs. I imagined tucking in to a sweet little house with books and a dog or two. Maybe things would be different here. More creatively stimulating. More thoughtful. More there in the moment. Maybe just more life.
It’s been such a strange few years. We’ve felt a little lost. And while some changes may be good for us, some changes just suck. There is no map to figure it out, to see how long the bad roads will last, or which way to go to smooth it out. We wander around until we wander out. Or maybe I just need to fling something.

The Fling…From the episode “Burning Down the House”

Chris: I’ve been here now for some days, groping my way along, trying to realize my vision here. I started concentrating so hard on my vision that I lost sight. I’ve come to find out that it’s not the vision, it’s not the vision at all. It’s the groping. It’s the groping, it’s the yearning, it’s the moving forward. I was so fixated on that flying cow that when Ed told me Monty Python already painted that picture, I thought I was through. I had to let go of that cow so I could see all the other possibilities.

Anyway, I want to thank Maurice for helping me to let go of that cow. Thank you Maurice for playing Apollo to my Dionysus in art’s Cartesian dialectic. And thanks to you, Ed, cause the truth shall set us free! And Maggie, thank you for sharing in the destruction of your house so that today we could have something to fling.

I think Kierkegaard said it oh so well, ‘The self is only that which it’s in the process of becoming.’ Art? Same thing. James Joyce had something to say about it too. ‘Welcome, Oh Life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience, and to forge in the smythe of my soul the uncreated conscious of my race.’

We’re here today to fling something that bubbled up from the collective unconsciousness of our community. Ed, you about ready? The thing I learned folks, this is absolutely key: It’s not the thing you fling. It’s the fling itself. Let’s fling something, Cicely! 

Northern Exposure's KBHR radio station. Rosyln, WA. AKA Cicely, AK
Northern Exposure’s KBHR radio station. Cicely, AK (Rosyln, WA). 
Cicely AK Northern Exposure Totem Pole in Roslyn, WA
The Totem Pole in Roslyn, WA
"Explosives", church, and horses. Roslyn WA.
“Explosives”, church, and horses. Roslyn WA.

 

If you are a Northern Exposure fan, you’ll probably like these links.

First, put on some music. Because of music rights issues, the original tunes didn’t always make it to the DVDs. But some good soul has pulled together a lot of the music into a Spotify Playlist.

Read more about each episode at Moosechick. Really, a fantastic resource.

Also, there’s recent news that a return to Cicely is in the works. Will they really reboot it? Will it be great, like the original?

Northern Exposure Cicely Alaska little pink shotgun house in Roslyn, Washington.
A little pink shotgun house in Roslyn, Washington.
Fall in Cascadia. A house in Rosyln, WA.
Fall in Cascadia. A house in Rosyln, WA.
Green House, Red Tin Roof, Picket Fence. Rosyln, WA.
Green House, Red Tin Roof, Picket Fence. Rosyln, WA.
Pink House, Red Trim, Lace Curtains. Roslyn, WA
Pink House, Red Trim, Lace Curtains. Roslyn, WA
Brown and blue house. Roslyn, WA.
Brown and blue house. Roslyn, WA.
Chimney smoke, red tin roof, porch lights November cozy in Roslyn, WA.
November cozy in Roslyn, WA.
November cozy in the mustard yellow house with chimney smoke, Roslyn WA.
November cozy in the mustard yellow house with chimney smoke, Roslyn WA.
Snow on the roof and a wooden fence. Rosyln WA
Snow on the roof and a wooden fence. Rosyln WA.
Huckleberries on the ground at Huckleberry House in Roslyn WA, aka Northern Exposure's Cicely AK.
Huckleberries on the ground at Huckleberry House in Roslyn WA, aka Northern Exposure’s Cicely AK.
Fallen apples in Roslyn, Washington.
Fallen apples in Roslyn, Washington.
Elk or deer seen from the road on the drive out of Roslyn Washington.
Seen from the road on the drive out of Roslyn Washington.

 

Finally, you can see more of our travels on my blog. And some select photos are available on my Etsy site.
Thanks for reading!

Bon hiver y’all! 🙂

Road Trip: High Desert to Cascadia

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My mom and I were on a seven-week road trip across the USA. We were now headed north from the desolate, high desert of Utah, and west into the lush area known as Cascadia and the Pacific Northwest.

November 8:  Moab to Ogden, Utah. Starting mileage:  35,334.

When we left our brand new hotel in Moab, workers were finally hanging the sign. It was windy, and red sand scattered across the road like snow. We were so happy about seeing Arches National Park yesterday. And though the poor car was still a dusty mess, we were leaving Moab with clean clothes and great memories.

Today, the plan was to drive north, mosey through Salt Lake City, and then drive over the seven-mile causeway out to Antelope Island in the Great Salt Lake for a meal before going to our hotel in Ogden.

Leaving Moab’s Desert

The day started on a high desert, two-lane road with frequent turn-outs near Arches and Canyonlands National Parks. Red cliffs surrounded us on this otherwise empty desert plateau. We saw a raven dive down and carry off what looked like a squirrel. We started keeping a weather eye open for cows on the road after seeing a sign warning drivers of “Free Range Cattle”. And when we saw a sign that Green River would be the last services for 110 miles, we pulled over there for gas.

Red hills blue sky driving on 191 Moab, Utah.
Red hills and blue sky as we drove North on 191 out of Moab, Utah.

 

Americana in the Book Cliffs

The landscape became scrub grass on hills, sometimes with mountains like wrinkled grey elephant legs standing in the background. Empty land stretched for miles, with a high ridge of cliffs running beside the road. In a few hours, we passed through Wellington. The 50 & 6 Diner was closed, a school bus sat “for sale” on the roadside, several shops had “for rent” signs, service stations were boarded up, and ragged houses sat close to the road like they were about to thumb rides out of town.

Later we’d pass through Helper, Utah: a railroad / mining town with modest little houses stuffed into the land between the railroad tracks and the road. The traditional main street was empty. The playground was empty. Stores were closed. Old-fashioned Christmas decorations hung from light poles on Main Street. Were they recently hung, or had they been hanging for since the 1950s? A town fading into a ghost town. Or was it? The delightfully-named Pick and Rail Supermarket was open. What must it be like to live in this small, old town? How I’d love to spend some time in these old towns, exploring the buildings, the history, and what once was.

LaSalle Hotel and Fine Food on Main Street in Helper, Utah.
LaSalle Hotel and Fine Food Family Restuarant. Classic Americana found on the empty streets of a railroad town called Helper, Utah.
Snow on the mountains just south of Salt Lake City, Utah.
We saw many grey houses with yellow trim, and grey horses with black manes and tails. Maybe they mimicked the colors of the grey mountains and the black cows hidden in yellow sage grass along the roads. Just south of Salt Lake City, Utah.

 

Salt Lake City and the Great Salt Lake

Our plan was to do a slow, scenic drive through Salt Lake City before having a late lunch at a restaurant on Antelope Island in the Great Salt Lake. We drove around Temple Square and the Mormon Tabernacle, the Utah State Capitol, and stumbled upon the Family History Library where FamilySearch.org lives. I’ve done a good bit of family research, and this is another place I would love to park for a few days to explore.

The Great Salt Lake is big…75 miles by 35 miles. I’ve seen it from the air, an awesome size, at the foot of the mountains and outlined in white and green brine. The lake is similar to the Dead Sea, so salty that swimming is like floating. While fish can’t live in the lake, the surrounding wetlands support thousands of migratory and nesting birds. We wanted to stand on the shores of the lake and see it’s expanse. Antelope Island was the place to do that.

We turned left at Syracuse, and headed towards the causeway out to the island. Antelope Island State Park has dry, native grasses that support herds of bison and bighorn sheep. The island has limited facilities, and is accessible via a seven-mile causeway into the lake. We were the only car on the road to the toll booth, and learned that “everything out there is closed for the season.” Before paying the $10 toll or park entrance fee, we pulled over to consider our options. We were hungry. While we had a few snacks in the car, we were running low on water. It would be at least a two, maybe three, hour excursion–driving out there, site-seeing around the deserted and desolate island, and driving back. We decided to skip it in favor of getting to our Ogden hotel before dark.

Buffalo statue at the entrance to Antelope Island, Great Salt Lake, Utah.
Buffalo statue at the entrance to the Causeway out to Antelope Island, Great Salt Lake, Utah.

 

November 9:  Ogden, Utah to Nampa, Idaho. Starting mileage: 35,623.

In the morning, we drove out of Ogden, Utah past the top part of the Great Salt Lake. Today’s road would take us kitty-corner across the bottom of Idaho’s L towards Boise. It was a day of driving through land that looked uninhabited. But the roadside signs suggested times could get interesting around here:

  • “Dust storm area”
  • “Game Crossing”
  • “Deer Migration Area”
  • “Report Wildfire”
  • “Frequent High Winds”
  • “Blinding Blowing Snow”
  • “Drowsy drivers – Pull off ahead”
The Great Salt Lake as seen from I-15 North in Utah.
The Great Salt Lake as seen from I-15 North.
Clear skies and an old barn in North Utah.
Clear skies and an old barn in North Utah.
Tall blonde grass and wide blue skies. Utah.
Sometimes we’d see black cows nearly hidden in the miles of tall blonde grass under wide blue skies. Utah.
Clouds hay barn near border of Utah and Idaho
Near the border of Utah and Idaho, clouds gathered over fields and hay barns.
Desolate road idaho blacktop telephone poles
We watched for potato fields along the desolate roads in Idaho.

 

Hey Idaho, where are the taters?!

Now, I’m a big fan of potatoes–perhaps their biggest cheerleader. I love potatoes any way they’re prepared and swear I could eat them day-in and day-out, morning, noon, and night. Add a little cheese and a cup of coffee, and well, that’s about all I need to survive. So I was pretty excited about having a few potato dishes when we passed through Idaho. Unbelievably, this was not to be.

We pulled over for a diner lunch after seeing a sign for the Fudge Factory Cafe in Glenn’s Ferry. My mouth was already watering, as my brain vividly imagined a homemade cheesy hash brown casserole or a twice-baked potato loaded with cheese and veggies. This was another of those quiet, ghosted little towns sitting along railroad tracks. We drove around empty streets until we found the Fudge Factory Cafe, which also looked eerily empty. Nope. We kept moving.

Old building Glenn's Ferry near Boise Idaho.
Old building in Glenn’s Ferry, Idaho.

 

Just about an hour later, we pulled into the Black Bear Diner in Boise, Idaho for a late lunch. Would you believe they didn’t serve baked potatoes until after 5 p.m.? In IDAHO?!  We sadly went to bed that night…potato-less…in Idaho.

 

November 10:  Nampa, Idaho, through the northeast corner of Oregon, and on to Washington state. Starting mileage: 35,946.

We got back on the road in the morning in a dense fog, or maybe it was smog from the Ore-Ida factory near the border of Oregon. Silly me, only then did I realize where the frozen hash brown king gets the name!  On this 39 degree morning, four people sat smoking on a front porch of a tumbling down house near the border, a tiny neighborhood street stuck there amidst the factory setting. Like so many places we’d see on this trip, we relished seeing the different landscapes–sometimes empty land for miles with hard rocks and ridges for textures, or soft, colorful fields cloaking the hillsides and valleys.  And sprinkled throughout, these old houses and old Main Streets sit, with old ways of life slowly fading away.

Hills somewhere in Eastern Oregon.
Hills and valleys of Oregon and the Pacific Time Zone. 
Mama Lucy writing travel notes in Oregon
We crossed the 45th Parallel just after the quaint little town of Baker City, Oregon. We were halfway between the Equator and the North Pole.
Oregon from above at the Deadman Pass Look-out area. Those are clouds below in the valley.
Blonde grass in Oregon at the Cabbage Hill / Deadman Pass Lookout area. Those are clouds *below* us, covering the valley.
Grass, rocks, and clouds in the valley below. At Deadman Pass Lookout, Oregon.
Grass, rocks, and clouds in the valley below. At Cabbage Hill / Deadman Pass Lookout, Oregon. Our road continued down through those clouds and into a fertile valley of corn and hay, and into Washington State.

 

Soon, we’d pass through a beautiful pass with blonde grass in Oregon, high above the valley and high above the clouds. We could have stayed up there for hours watching the wind ruffle the grass and listening to the silence.

For more about our road trip across the big USA, please see my blog. Select photos are also available for sale. Please email me or check out my Etsy site.

Road Trip: Arches National Park

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November 6: Grand Junction, CO to Moab, UT. Starting mileage 35,144.

Back in Denver, we’d gotten advice on places to see and things to do. One strong recommendation was to fill up the gas tank as often as possible once we got out into the more remote areas of the wild west. Like the possibility of snow in Rocky Mountain Novembers, this wasn’t something I’d thought about, but of course, it made sense. So, near the turn-off for Moab, we pulled into Papa Joe’s for gas…and quickly pulled out again. $4.99 a gallon! That was more than $2.00 a gallon higher than anywhere else we’d seen so far. Outrageous!

No worries, we soon found a reasonably-priced filling station and continued on into Moab. We stopped first thing in Arches National Park Guest Center to get familiar with what to see and how to see it. We decided that given the time and our hunger, we’d save the park for tomorrow. But we did whet our appetite by pouring over the postcards, picking up park maps, and watching the introductory video. This place was going to be amazing!

Finding our Brand New Hotel

After dinner at the Moab Grill, we went to check-in at our second Springhill Suites by Marriott Hotel. We had an address for Siri, but she never said a word. We drove out of Moab. Where was the hotel? It was supposed to be the closest hotel to Arches National Park. We drove back in to Moab. Nothing. We turned around and drove more slowly back the other way, out of Moab. And, back in again. What the heck? We pulled in to a parking lot and made a phone call for directions. The lady on the phone described the building, and the turn off just past the river. The hotel had only been open for four days, and they hadn’t put the sign up yet.

A few minutes later, we pulled into the right parking lot and drove around the unmarked building looking for a lobby door. Lucky for us, check-in was easier than finding the place, or the door to get in. The fireplace was lit in the lobby, and we lingered there for a minute before finding a luggage cart to take our bags up. We’ve never stayed in such a new place! Our room had never been slept in. Everything smelled new and clean–from the woodwork, dry wall construction and fresh paint, to the brand new sheets and towels, and spotless carpeting. What a treat!

Laundry soap bleach softeners laundry detergent supplies vending machine at hotel
Thank goodness hotels have coin-operated laundry rooms and vending machines of detergents.

Doing Laundry on the Road

We had left Chicago and Nashville about 10 days ago and we were running out of clean clothes. Thankfully, the hotel had a coin-operated laundry room for guests. For $10.00, we did two loads of laundry, while catching up on journals and photo downloads. Not a bad way to spend an evening, considering the crazy days of driving we’d had recently.

November 7: Arches National Park. Starting mileage 35,264.

We were up and out early the next morning. Today, we were using our National Park Annual Pass for the first time. Arches would be the first of many national parks we’d see on our road trip.

National Parks

In 1872, President Ulysses S. Grant signed a bill that created our first national park, Yellowstone. The National Park System was established 44 years later by The Organic Act of 1916:  “to conserve the scenery and the natural and historic objects and wildlife therein, and to provide for the enjoyment of the same in such manner and by such means as will leave them unimpaired for the enjoyment of future generations.” Today, the U.S. National Park system contains 60 National Parks and a number of national monuments and historical sites.

Our National Parks are treasures. They are sweeping and majestic scenery preserved for us, and native animals. They are history saved and remembered for us. And as Ken Burns and PBS say, they are America’s Best Idea.  An annual pass is just $80 and allows a carful of people to enter any of our national parks. I cannot recommend the parks or the pass enough.

Arches National Park

We proudly showed our National Park Annual Pass to the Park Ranger at the entry gate that morning. I smiled and stared at his Smokey the Bear hat as he handed down a newspaper map with the formations, roads, and trails. And then we began our drive into the park…up, up, up. The road twisted and turned, doubling back on the mountain’s ridge as we climbed into the park and the Ranger’s station got smaller and smaller below us.

Originally named a national monument in 1929, Arches was re-designated a full-on National Park in November 1971. In its 76,000 acres, Arches National Park contains more than 2,000 natural sandstone arches and unique rock formations with descriptive names like Balanced Rock, the 3 Gossips, and Sheep Rock.

On the morning we entered, the sun turned the rocks orange against a blue, blue sky and a full white moon lingered in the horizon just above the rocks. Arches was a complete surprise to us. We hadn’t planned to be here and we were blown away by the place. Just a few minutes into the drive, Mama Lucy asked that we stop to clean the windows for better viewing opportunities.

Moon over Arches National Park
Moon over Arches National Park.
Arches National Park moon over mammoth rocks and sandstone formations
Near the entrance to Arches National Park, the moon sets over mammoth rocks and sandstone formations.
Mama Lucy cleans car window for better viewing. Arches National Park.
Mama Lucy cleans her window for better viewing. Just inside the entrance to Arches National Park.

 

A Day in Arches National Park

It appeared that we were the first car into the park that morning, because when we pulled over at La Sal Mountains Viewpoint, all we heard was the wind in the desert. The sun warmed us as we looked out at stone formations called the 3 Gossips, Sheep Rock, The Tower of Babel, and The Organ. My-oh-my, what an astonishing view!

We spent the day like this…driving a little way, hopping out to walk a bit and photograph a lot, and gawking and expressing our happiness that our changed plans had allowed us to see this place. The park is easily accessible and you can see a lot from the car, or from short, easy walks. There are longer and more intense hikes for people who can do it. Overall, we were thrilled that Mama Lucy could experience so much without very long or too strenuous walks. Another reminder of what the National Parks System has done to preserve and to share the nation’s great beauty for all of us to see and enjoy.

Courthouse Towers The Three Gossips and Sheep Rock, Arches National Park.
The Three Gossips and Sheep Rock, in the Courthouse Towers area of Arches National Park.
Mama Lucy sitting under Balanced Rock, Arches National Park
Mama Lucy sitting under Balanced Rock, Arches National Park. It is said that the rock is the size of 3 buses. We looked with awe and a little fear at the boulders sitting around us. From which rock pedestal had they fallen? 
One of the double arch windows in The Windows Section of Arches National Park.
A man in one of the double arch windows in The Windows Section of Arches National Park.

 

Walks, Lunch, and Taking Care of the Parks

We took short, easy trails to sit beneath Balanced Rock, to walk on the eyelids of the windows that form the Double Arch, to see the sand dunes arch, and to have a picnic lunch among the scrub jays, crows, and tiny chipmunk-like critters near The Devil’s Garden.

I was glad we’d packed lunch and could sit in the sun to eat. We had left over croissants and fruit from breakfast, plus salty snacks, and fresh water in our own Rubbermaid water vessels filled up at the Park’s visitor center. We were very careful to dispose of trash in the ample trash bins along the park’s main road. The parks are a brilliant reminder of how pristine the land can be when humans take care.

A dollop of rock dots a ridge, Arches National Park
Everywhere you look in Arches National Park, there’s a dollop of rock dotting a ridge, or a window opening to a wide vista.
Sandstone formation vista on the road north into Arches National Park.
A vista on the road north into Arches National Park.
Clouds over the Fiery Furnace Area in Arches National Park.
Cloud formations over the Fiery Furnace Area in Arches National Park.
A road through Arches National Park.
A road through Arches National Park. This part seemed like an intermission, or a palate cleanser before moving on to the next course.
Dried mud ground in salt wash arches national park.
Arches National Park is on top of an underground salt bed. At one time, a mile-thick layer of rock covered the salt beds. But over time, the unstable salt beds repositioned under the weight, causing rock fins to jut up. Faults and erosion on these fins or ridges resulted in the arches and formations we see today.
Clouds Melting pancaked rocks along the walk to Delicate Arch, Arches National Park.
Melted, pancaked rocks along the walk to Delicate Arch, Arches National Park.
Water in Salt Wash creek runs near Wolfe Ranch in Arches National Park.
Salt Wash Creek runs near Wolfe Ranch in Arches National Park.
Carol walking to the Delicate Arch. Arches National Park.
Carol walking to the Delicate Arch, Arches National Park. Thanks to the elderly lady on the trail returning from Delicate Arch who stopped me for a photo. She carefully composed this shot, asking me to turn and walk on in an “active moment.”

 

At the end of the day

As the day wore on, we wore out. We crammed in as many of the short trails as we could muster. The temperature warmed up and the light changed so that the formations we’d seen in the morning looked different by afternoon. And of course, we had to stop again for more, different photographs.

Follow me. A Pilot car escorts us through an area where road work is happening. Arches National Park.
Follow me. A pilot car escorts us through an area where road work was happening. Arches National Park.
Sand Dune arch in Arches National Park.
The bird-beak Sand Dune Arch in Arches National Park.
Vista to the Landscape Arch area in Arches National Park.
Vista to the Landscape Arch area in Arches National Park. At the time we were there, this trail was closed.
The Organ, in Courthouse Towers area of Arches National Park.
The Organ, in the Courthouse Towers area of Arches National Park.
Park Avenue from the Viewpoint. Just inside Arches National Park.
Park Avenue from the Viewpoint. Near the entrance to Arches National Park.
Near Park Avenue Viewpoint and Trailhead, Arches National Park.
Near Park Avenue Viewpoint and Trailhead, Arches National Park.
Cloud and rock detail, Park Avenue in Arches National Park.
Cloud and rock detail, Park Avenue in Arches National Park.

 

Late in the afternoon, we stopped back by the Visitors Center to buy, write, and mail postcards from Arches while we were still in the park. We’d decided on a car wash and dinner at McStiff’s –both seemed an appropriate splurge given our and the car’s busy and physically exhausting day. Alas, neither was available…no car wash to be found in all of Moab, and McStiff’s was closed “for 2 days for Rest and Projects”. We ended up at Moab Diner, and not long afterward, fell into our brand new bedsheets to sleep like babies.

For more information:

Read more about our re-route that got us to this amazing place, and about our reasons to go on this seven-week USA Road Trip.

Interested in visiting the National Parks? Read more about them here.

Select prints are for sale on my Etsy site. You can also email me for more information about photographs not on Etsy.

And finally, thanks for reading!

 

Road Trip: Palisades, Pilgrimage, and Niagara Falls

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October 25:  Autumn drive across New York to Niagara Falls.  Starting mileage:  31,117.

You have to wonder about a weekday that starts with a drive through Manhattan at 8:00 a.m.  But we were following Siri to Niagara Falls, and that’s what she said we should do.

We eased out of the skinny Best Western parking spot and hit the streets of New York. Our hotel was in Long Island City, Queens, and we could see the crowns of the Queensboro Bridge from our room. Thankfully though, Siri guided us to the hidden foothills of the bridge. We passed over the East River with a herd of food trucks and entered Manhattan at the Silver Cup Studio sign. As we drove north on FDR Drive, through Harlem and the Bronx, and past Yankee Stadium, Siri told us about detours and the lanes we needed to be in. Eventually, we crossed over the Hudson and into New Jersey on the George Washington Bridge.

The Palisades

We drove north with the Hudson to our right. The trees were in full autumn blaze and we stopped for a stroll in the Palisades Scenic Overlook. The wide Hudson River shined below, and Yonkers looked so far away across the water. We walked separately, and together–basking in the fresh air and the flaming reds and oranges of the trees. It was a surprisingly peaceful place for being so close to the chaos of the city.

Mama Lucy overlooking the Hudson River in the wilds of the Palisades, NJ.
Mama Lucy overlooking the Hudson River in the wilds of the Palisades, NJ.
Autumn trees and a stone fence in the Palisades Interstate Park.
Autumn trees and a stone fence in the Palisades Interstate Park, New Jersey.
Fall colors on trees along the winding road in the Palisades Interstate Park, New Jersey. Steep cliffs down to the Hudson River are just to the left of the road.
Fall colors on trees along the winding road in the Palisades Interstate Park, New Jersey. Steep cliffs down to the Hudson River are just to the left of the road.

 

Pilgrimage:  Finding Mark Twain in Elmira

Somewhere along the way, we entered New York again and were now headed northwest across the state. As we skirted past the colorful Catskills, we stopped for lunch at the Roscoe Diner. Lesson #6 of our trip…whenever possible, eat at a local diner. For the next couple of hours, we rode near the Pennsylvania border, passing in and out of New York until we curved north towards Elmira.

Yellow tree in a rest area in Hancock NY, at the Pennsylvania border.
Yellow tree in a rest area in Hancock NY, at the Pennsylvania border.

Back when we were plotting the trip, I realized we would pass through Elmira, a little town that was so special to Samuel Langhorne Clemens, aka Mark Twain. And since he’s special to me, we paused there to find traces of the man who dreamed up Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn.

Mark Twain’s Study

First, we found his study on the campus of Elmira College. His in-laws built this cozy room for him on their Quarry Farm hill overlooking Elmira in 1874. Samuel and Olivia and their girls came to visit her sister here every summer and this was where Twain went to write. I’ve seen pictures of him at the window of this study when it was covered in summer vines. Now, here it was–alone in the midst of a busy campus.

I believe he would have mocked the “progress” that necessitated moving his study here among young adults, today with noses glued to cell phones. I smiled, imagining what sardonic thing he’d say about cell phones. The building was closed, so I just held the door knob and peeked in at the small room. A stone fireplace, wooden floor, and walls of windows surrounded a round table. I tried to imagine him sitting and writing, but instead a fleeting image of him pacing and pipe puffing crossed my mind.

In 1874, Mark Twain's in-laws built a study for him to write at Quarry Farm. The octagon-shaped room sat on the top of a knoll overlooking Elmira and is where he wrote major pieces including Life on the Mississippi, Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, and A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court. The study was moved to this spot at Elmira College in 1952.
In 1874, Mark Twain’s in-laws built a study for him to write at Quarry Farm. The octagon-shaped room sat on the top of a knoll overlooking Elmira and is where he wrote major pieces including Life on the Mississippi, Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, and A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court. The study was moved to this spot at Elmira College in 1952.
The door knob to Mark Twain's study.
The door knob to Mark Twain’s study.

 

Mark Twain’s Grave

Within fifteen minutes of touching his study’s doorknob, I was standing at Samuel Clemens’ grave in Woodlawn Cemetery. Mama walked with me as I read and made photographs of each grave, and then she returned to the car for a rest.

Mark Twain's grave in Woodlawn Cemetery, Elmira NY. He is buried next to his beloved Olivia, and surrounded by his children.
Mark Twain’s grave in Woodlawn Cemetery, Elmira NY. He is buried next to his beloved Olivia, and they are surrounded by their children.

Meanwhile, I sat down on the cold stone stoop at Mark Twain’s headstone. I thanked him for writing by hand the stories that mean so much and for taking the time to find the right word to give us lightning and not a lightning bug. You know that game about who you’d have at an imaginary dinner party? After family, he’s always my first invitation. I told him that too.

Mark Twain's grave in Woodlawn Cemetery, Elmira NY. Someone put autumn mums on his grave, but no one has added an epitaph to his stone.
Mark Twain’s grave in Woodlawn Cemetery, Elmira NY. Someone put autumn mums on his grave, but no one has added an epitaph to his stone.

An old dime laid on his grave among acorn bits and leaves and twigs. I picked up a maple’s “helicopter” to keep. I thought of his sarcastic tales of souvenir seekers in The Innocents Abroad and how many bits of “the one true cross” there must be. Of course, he would have laughed at me. And I would have hugged him.

On Mark Twain's grave: an old dime and leaves.
On Mark Twain’s grave: an old dime and leaves.

 

October 25-26:  Niagara Falls

We drove into the rain and the dark. As we neared the town of Niagara, Siri rerouted us because of an accident. We checked in to the Quality Hotel well after sunset, not realizing just how close we were to Niagara Falls.

A lot of people have described Niagara Falls. I should have been prepared. I was not. Mama Lucy and I were shocked and wowed by Niagara Falls…by the scale of it, the mighty sound, the urgent rushing river, the new clouds, the soaking mist, so many rainbows, precarious islands, and those massive falls that drop the river down, down, down. We spent the day there, walking and sitting–taking photos, getting soaked in mist, and admiring the rainbows.

A bird watches us at the Niagara River before the Falls.
From Lake Erie to Lake Ontario, the Niagara River races to the Falls.
Three waterfalls at Niagara Falls, NY.
Three waterfalls at Niagara Falls, NY.
The mighty Niagara Falls as seen from the Observation Tower.
The mighty Niagara Falls as seen from the Observation Tower.
Niagara Falls on a sunny day means rainbows over rainbows!
Niagara Falls on a sunny day means rainbows over rainbows!
From an island in Niagara River, at the falls.
From an island in the Niagara River, at the falls. The Observation Tower in the top right, and the Rainbow Bridge to Canada in the background. 
Niagara Falls creates mist and its own clouds.
Niagara Falls creates mist and its own clouds.
Walking up the path puts you beside and below the thundering, misting Niagara Falls.
Walking up the path puts you beside (and below!) the thundering, misting Niagara Falls.
The Observation Tower above Niagara Falls.
The Observation Tower above Niagara Falls.
Mama Lucy photographing Niagara Falls from the Observation Tower.
Mama Lucy photographing Niagara Falls from the Observation Tower.
Watching the Maid of the Mist approach Niagara Falls for a shower.
Watching the Maid of the Mist approach Niagara Falls for a shower.

Finally, it was on this day that we began making souvenir pennies. Let’s just call that the 7th lesson of the trip:  Always stop at the penny press machine!

Mama Lucy pressing the first souvenir penny at Niagara Falls.
Mama Lucy pressing the first of our souvenir pennies at Niagara Falls.
Mama Lucy surprised me climbing up into this giant chair after our comfort-food dinner at Niagara Falls. What a day of surprises.
Mama Lucy surprised me climbing up into this giant chair after our comfort-food dinner at Niagara Falls. What a day of surprises!
Mama Lucy with rainbow and sunshine at Niagara Falls.
Mama Lucy with rainbow and sunshine at Niagara Falls on a brisk Autumn day.
Carol at Niagara Falls.
Carol at Niagara Falls.

 

Our route from NYC to Niagara Falls

Map of route from Long Island City Queens through Manhattan and north along the Hudson.
Our route from Long Island City Queens through Manhattan and north along the Hudson.
Map of our route from NYC around the Catskills in NY.
Map of our route from NYC around the Catskills in NY.
The map of our route across New York state to Elmira and Niagara.
Our route across New York state to Elmira and Niagara.

You can read more about our decision to take this trip here. Select photos will be available on Etsy soon.

Thanks for reading!

Road trip: Nashville to Cherokee

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THE day was here. Breakfast dishes were done and the house was locked up. The car packed and the rearview mirror arranged. Seat belts on. It was time. We snapped a selfie, posted it to Instagram, and backed out of the driveway. It was 7:20 a.m. on Thursday, October 19, and my mother and I were on our way. It was Day One of our seven-week USA road trip.

Lucy & Carol in the car, just a moment before our 7:20 a.m. departure
Lucy & Carol in the car, just a moment before our 7:20 a.m. departure. October 19, 2017.

October 19. Starting mileage: 29,950.

The plan was to go South on backroads down to Estill Springs and then cut East on more backroads, turning North into North Carolina for the Smoky Mountains and Cherokee where we had a reservation for the night.

It was a perfect day for a drive with a Tennessee October-crisp temperature and brilliant sunshine. And it was the perfect time to take a trip. For the last few months, we’d debated, dreamed, deliberated, and finally decided to do it. My last day at work had been an auspicious Friday, October 13 and just a few days after, I’d flown to Tennessee to make final preparations with my mom, Lucy. And now, here we were, on the route. High hopes, nervous energy, a few nagging worries about costs and routes and places to stay, and an awakening feeling of release and relief. We were on our way!

First, Estill Springs

Estill Springs was our first stop. It had to be. It was the place the two of us used to go on annual vacations when money was tight. Years ago, friends of my mom lived there in a nice house surrounded by woods. I have no idea where in Estill Springs their house was. But it felt remote, exotic. Mama and I would always sleep in their attic guest bedroom, eat delicious home-cooked meals in the screened-in porch, and walk among those tall pines. They had a dog, and a boy a little younger than me. We’d play in the woods, ride bikes, and set up little towns to drive Matchbox cars around. I’m not sure how long we stayed on these trips–could have been a long weekend, or a week. Time seemed to relax and spread out a little. Estill Springs is not that far from Nashville. But just like those old vacations, it took a while to get there. We arrived to nothing that looked familiar, and snapped a few shots in front of the only thing we could find that said Estill Springs, the City Hall. And unlike those old vacations, today we kept going.

Lucy at Estill Springs City Hall
Lucy at Estill Springs City Hall.

 

Onward

I’d gone old school for this trip. The very day Lucy said, “Ok, I’ll go,” I walked to the local travel garb store and bought an oversized Road Atlas, complete with special entries for all the National Parks. In the six weeks from “Ok, I’ll go” to “GO!”, I’d been plotting our course, studying the map, and jotting notes for backroads to other backroads to landmarks and destinations. I intended to bypass the bland major highways as much as possible–though I realized that the interstates were necessary time savers. So, after a few hours of driving old Tennessee roads past fields and cows, and getting twisted up from my written directions, we got on I-24 going southeast. By then, it was time for lunch. And we weren’t even one-third of the way to Cherokee.

Country Road, Tennessee
Country Road, Tennessee.
Fields & Power Lines, Tennessee
Fields and power lines, Tennessee.

 

As moms will do, Lucy had packed lunch. We stopped at the Nickajack Reservoir – Ladds Rest Area for a picnic. I’ve never seen a prettier rest stop. It was a little island, peaceful. We took our time, letting it all soak in–the warm October sunshine, the reservoir view, the homemade pimento cheese, and the fact that we were on the trip of a lifetime. Even now, that hour at the rest stop is one of my most vivid memories of the trip.

At Ladds Rest Area, Nickajack Reservoir, near Jasper, TN
At Ladds Rest Area, an island in the Nickajack Reservoir, near Jasper, TN.
Ocoee River Scenic View, Tennessee
Ocoee River Scenic View, Tennessee.

 

Cherokee, NC

We drove on, and on, and on. Stopping here and there for photos…like at the Ocoee River. Mama knew how to say it–“o-CO-ee”.  And when it rolled off her tongue, I remembered that I used to know that. I repeated it out loud and a hundred more times in my head. Just like the time she told me the Obey River near Celina is said “O-bee”–but that’s another story for another day.

Eventually we drove into North Carolina, and found our hotel in Cherokee just before dark.

This first night tested us. There was the checking in and getting a key that didn’t work. And then there was the unloading–lots of suitcases, a bag of food, and a cooler. We discovered we wanted to do different things. We both worried about the money. And we’d lost an hour of daylight moving from Central to Eastern time zone. Lucy wanted to see the casino. I wanted to go into the Smokies. But it was silly money to park at the casino and then there were no spaces. And it was too dark to drive up into the mountains. We were hungry and didn’t know where to go to eat–couldn’t even decide what we wanted. We settled on a cheap fast food dinner and early turn-in. Of all the nights for rambunctious kids to be anywhere near me, they were in the room above ours–jumping on their beds and screaming until we–at last–heard water running and their mom call “Bath time!” If playtime continued after bath time, I didn’t hear it.

October 20.  Starting mileage 30,238.

The next morning after loading up, we stopped for a buffet breakfast with pancakes. Buoyed by the comfort food and a fresh day starting far from our routines, we idled around Cherokee. We wandered around an old stone church, noted that the street signs were in Cherokee and English, and poked around a few souvenir shops. Years and years ago, I remember coming to the Smoky Mountains with both Mama and Daddy. I don’t think the souvenir options have changed much in all that time–play tomahawks, tiny doll papooses, suede moccasins, and little hand-carved trinkets, alongside boiled peanuts, birdhouses, and mesmerizing spinning yard ornaments and wind chimes.

After a couple of hours dallying around Cherokee, we headed north for Washington D.C. Yes, we’d like more time in Cherokee–to see the old settlements in Cherokee Nation, play at the casino, and use the National Park pass to see the Smoky Mountains. But the sun was out, our worries lifted, and today’s long road stretched out before us.

In Cherokee, North Carolina, road signs are in Cherokee and English.
In Cherokee Nation, NC road signs are in Cherokee and English. In the early 1800s, Sequoyah began creating a system of writing the spoken Cherokee language. Today, the Cherokee language is “severely endangered” in North Carolina, and “definitely endangered” in Oklahoma according to UNESCO. 
Four of the Seven Clans of Cherokee.
Four of the Seven Clans of Cherokee. The seven clans:  Wolf, Deer, Blue, Long Hair, Wild Potato, Bird, and Paint. 🙂 The names alone explain some things!
The first of many times we saw scorched trees. Cherokee, NC
The first of many times we saw scorched trees. Cherokee, NC.
Leaving Cherokee Nation. October 20, 2017.
Leaving Cherokee Nation. October 20, 2017.
A valley somewhere in the Southern Appalachians, NC to D.C.
A valley somewhere in the Southern Appalachians, NC to D.C.
Tennessee map: Our highlighted route from Nashville to NC
Tennessee map: Our highlighted route from Nashville to NC.
North Carolina Map: Our route from TN to Cherokee, NC.
North Carolina detail map: Our route from TN into Cherokee, NC.