The Great American Road Trip Part One

Part One.

The Seahawks are losing to the Broncos. It is almost half time, and I start to feel a sick sense of anxiety come over me. At half time, I knew I would be leaving behind my safe little world for awhile. I knew that for the next three months, my life would be dramatically different then how it had been. I feel somewhat scared. So much could happen in three months - getting in an accident was my number one fear, but there were many others, some rational, some not. I got up to fill my coffee cup one more time. It is stronger than I like it, but that's how these brothers, Bob and Bill, like their coffee. I add an extra spoonful of Creamora. The thought of saying good-bye to Bob starts to enter my mind, but I dismiss it rapidly. I have already made up my mind that I don't really care what happens to "us" while I'm away. Since we've only been dating for a few months, I don't have a lot of expectations. Sure, it would be nice if he was still available and wanting to be with me when I get back, but if not, I won't be too heartbroken. I don't think.

Attempting to keep my mind on the game and final few plays before half time, my mind wanders. Will Shawn still be alive when I get home? Will he run away, thinking I deserted him? I cried my eyes out saying good-bye to him last night. He’s been my loyal companion for years. We have been through a lot together - moves, deaths, illness - I will miss his snuggles and loving eyes. I contemplated taking him with me, but realized that most motels don't allow cats, and he’s a real stinker in the car. Plus, what if he jumped out of the car when I was getting gas in Alabama or someplace. No, I made the right decision to leave him home.

Half time. I get up off the couch and Bob does the same. It is time. I'm feeling a bit shocked as Bob walks me out to my loaded car. It's amazing how much stuff can be packed into a Honda Civic hatchback. Our good-bye is awkward, and I can sense that he is relieved to see me start the engine. The weather is overcast - typical for September in Seattle but not raining. He reminds me that he isn't much of a letter writer. I think to myself, what a lame excuse. I pull out of the driveway, thinking that I could still change my mind. No, I can't. The tank is filled with gas, I've got my favorite tapes on the passenger seat, a can of diet Coke, and I am ready to roll. I just want to get to I-90, knowing at this point I won’t let myself turn back. All these months of planning, working a second job selling hot-dogs at the Kingdome, and saving money . . . the time is finally upon me.

Merging onto I-90 I turn the radio station to 720am to listen to the game. It would be a miracle if they could turn the game around and the Seahawks win. It would be a nice send-off. I start thinking about my first stop, which I anticipate will be over the pass unless I run into some unforeseen trouble. "Watch your speed kiddo" I tell myself, knowing I will have plenty of opportunities to get speeding tickets, and it would be a drag to get one while still in Washington. I wonder how many I will end up getting on this trip. My car lugs up the pass, and I start to lose the game on the radio. I'll just have to catch the final score on the news tonight. In goes "Cheryl's Only Good Tape", a collection of songs Bill put together for me. The first song “Radar Love” brings back memories when Bob and Bill played in the band “Faze”. Bill and I don't have much of a relationship - I'm just his brother's girlfriend, who according to him, uses to much toilet paper when I stay over. When questioning him on his use of toilet paper, he informed me that he waits until he gets to work each day to do his thing. Interesting. But this tape is nice. The sun breaks out as I come down the other side of the pass. Seattle now seems like a long way away. The terrain is bare and dry, and with no air conditioning, the air hitting my face feels uncomfortably warm. I pull into a rest stop near Ellensberg to stretch and change out of my sweatshirt. Back on the road.

Pulling into Pendelton Oregon around 7:00pm. I am now officially out of Washington, and tired of driving. The sunset is extraordinary. I get a room and collapse. Exhausted, but need to eat. I go to a Burger King, and then to Payless to pick of a postcard of Pendleton. I decided I would make it my mission to get a postcard from each town where I spent the night. Back in my room I eat and write a few letters. I feel like calling friends back home, but don't. I call Jim in Utah, who I will be seeing in a week. I want to phone more friends to feel connected to somewhere besides a Motel 6. I write in my journal, and pull out my map of the U.S. With my purple highlighter I mark the route I travelled, which only amounted to three inches. As I look at the map, my mind wonders all over the country. Strange thoughts flood my head. Would I survive this journey? I gather myself together and record today’s information in my little blue notebook. Date: Sunday, 9/13/87. Location: Pendleton, Oregon Mileage: 285, Gas: $8, Motel: $30 Food: $3. Total: $41. This distracted me for awhile, but my thoughts keep going back home. All I really know at this time is that I will have plenty of time the next three months to contemplate life. Everything else is relatively unknown. I wonder to myself "what am I doing?"

Maids should know if a person has checked out before knocking on the door. It was 9:15am, and almost three hours before check-out time. I slept heavily and could have slept longer if the knock on the door and "it’s maid service" didn't wake me.

Driving feels more comfortable today. I have a long drive ahead of me but was looking forward to seeing Liv in Idaho. We have known each other since we were three years old, meeting in pre-school while our fathers taught at Olympic Community College in Bremerton. Dad got fired for speaking out against the Vietnam war, which wasn't a popular stand in this military town. My family moved to Bellingham after I completed the first grade. Liv and I remained friends, and her family is like a family to me. I adore her father, who is so different from my own. He’s talkative and always seems curious about my life. Something my father never seems to have the time to bother with. Olav's pronounced Norwegian accent has always been a sense of comfort to me.

I treat myself to breakfast this first morning on the road but swore I would be more conservative with my money after today. There is too much horseradish on my ham and cheese croissant sandwich anyway, so it wasn't particularly tasty. I drove most the day with very few stops. When I reach Boise, I muster up the courage to call an old boyfriend, George. We talk for a long time, and I was hoping to visit him when I came back through Boise. It had been five years since I'd seen him, and now he's married and expecting a child. He is a senior at Boise State University and has turned his life around since the days we hung out together.

Liv is out with her parents when I reached Sun Valley, so I go out to dinner with her boyfriend Mike and their friends. Later we meet up with Liv and her folks for a beer. It was a coincidence that her parents were visiting, and a nice coincidence at that. They are staying at a condo that normally rents for $450.00 a night but staying for free because of Liv’s connections.

A fire broke out on the top of a mountain close to Liv's apartment. Burning trees and flames could be seen with the naked eye. There were helicopters dropping stuff attempting to put it out. A scary sight.

Only day two on the road. Drifting off to sleep I think, what will be ahead? My mind wonders back to George. I worry that he might not want to see me since our relationship had ended by me telling him I was going back to an ex-boyfriend. Dumb move. George and I had always been such good friends, and after many years of being platonic, being romantically involved was special. But I was so hung up on Ken that I couldn't think straight.

Sleeping in and four cups of coffee later, Liv and I head up to Redfish Lake and meet her folks. What a beautiful area, with the Sawtooth Mountains as a backdrop. The mountains look surreal due to the blue shades of varying depths surrounded by a smoking haze, probably from the fire. When we get down the mountain, we go for dinner at "Warm Springs Restaurant". This place is known for its scones, and I can see why. They melt in your mouth.

It's cold! I sit on Liv's deck and look at the stars. It is so beautiful. I love this little town. Now that I have a place to stay, I will come back during ski season. I reflect on the day, and the touristy things that did poking around town. The world’s oldest chair lift, Clint Eastwoods house, Sun Valley Lodge, Hemingway’s Monument and of course shopping for postcards.

One of the things I like about this community is that they don't allow chains to set up shop here, so everything is locally owned and operated. After dinner, we venture to a hot spring that hardly anyone knows about. Drank wine and bathed in the warm spa. Mikes sense of humor is off beat and hysterical. It feels good to laugh so hard. It is the first time since I left that I missed Bob and wish he could be with us.

I hate passing cars, even when I can see for miles. There are two cars ahead of me and I'm getting annoyed. Why don't they pull over and let me pass? They are going under the speed limit. I hold my breath, turn on the blinker and gun the engine. I pass them both at once. There, now I can get back to driving at a decent speed. Whenever I'm in stressful driving situations, I hold my breath. It seems to help. Compared to Sun Valley, Boise is downright ugly. At least this part of the city. Mills and factories. I pull off to check directions to George's house. My heart was starting to beat a little faster, and I feel some insecurity coming over me. Our time together was good.

The adventure and story continues. Learning more about my past, including a tragedy my mom experience that I didn’t know about. Various encounters, experiences, reflections on life . . . and death. To be continued.