Too often travel, instead of broadening the mind, merely lengthens the
conversation.
Elizabeth Drew
Three hundred sixty-eight miles. 368 miles. Last week, after a plane ride to Denver, I had that many miles to drive to see middle son in his summer habitat. Sometimes, when I pause to ponder what I've planned for myself, I get a few extra thumps in my heartbeat. A 'what were you thinking?' thump.
I remind myself that often I drove 3000 miles, with three young boys in tow. (My husband flew in as he didn't have as much time off. Gave us more time with the grandparents and side trips.) But driving alone in the wilderness is something different for me. Adding to those tangled thoughts, if you recall, after the trip my husband and I took in the spring, I no longer want adventure. I want to rotiss, on a beach, with a book. For days.
Once I got behind the wheel and started driving, all those ridiculous thoughts went away.
But first, the night I arrived in Denver, I met with a gathered family for dinner at a favorite downtown restaurant.
Travel at any age is certainly beneficial and eye opening, but just like re-reading a book read 20 or 30 years before, at 54 I hold a complete and different perspective.
On this adventure, I found wonder in the ever changing scenery. Around every curve the terrain reshaped from the size of the hill or mountain to the color of the soil, the plant life. I found it beautiful. Geology suddenly seemed a fascinating study.
A sight on the road was I, I'm certain. My right hand alternated between holding my little tape recorder to my lips and my camera out the window. (I lost my camera a few weeks ago and had to buy a new one. So you'll have to bear with me getting to know how to use it, one handed.)
I came to a place on that empty highway where a car was stopped in front of me. I stopped, thinking they had a car problem or perhaps an animal on the road before them. But no,
... my son.
He had washed the sheets and cleaned the bathroom for mom's visit. Even did the dishes. As I sat on his front porch peering through the Aspen trees, it was most comforting to see him in his new habitat. (Side note for new readers - Jordan is working for the Nature Conservancy this summer on a 3000 acre ranch.)
Next day, we began our adventure. Didn't have a particular plan except a night scheduled in Yellowstone and one in Jackson Hole.
This was our hotel.
While Jordan took a nap and enjoyed having WIFI and cable TV (not available in his cabin) I walked down the road to take in the Buffalo Bill Historical Center. Fascinating find - five museums in one. I was interested in the Plains Indian museum, but was most surprised to discover the western art museum showcasing the works of Charles Russell and Frederic Remington, among others.
The Yellowstone sections had displays explaining the geothermal activity as well as the varied wildlife. I took a few photos of the stuffed animals just in case we didn't see any real ones in Yellowstone.
That way we could say we saw wildlife even if we didn't.
Little did we know...
TO BE CONTINUED