Reflections on the Road

Tonight, we are in Pocatello, Idaho (where they have a GREAT Mexican restaurant, by the way), having made our way back to the Oregon Trail. It was a long day, without much to report, since most of it was eaten up by the breakdown of our SECOND rental car. With all due respect to those we know and love (you know who you are) who are proud owners of Subaru Foresters, let me just say that I've had it. After going through two Foresters in two weeks, we've switched cars. The process took several hours, and made it necessary to cut our scenic route that was planned for today (it also made me very fussy, but that's another story--I'll spare you).

With any luck, we will backtrack about an hour and a half in the morning and cover those sights, since they sound really great. We'll write more about those tomorrow morning (our first entry about Idaho!)

In the meantime, I just have to share a couple of things that have been nagging at me.

I hinted at the first in one other post, but I've been itching to say it more fully. It's about that verse in "This Land is Your Land", in which Woody Guthrie says "As I walked that ribbon of highway, I saw above me, that endless skyway, I saw below me that golden valley--this land was made for you and me". I have sung that song my whole life, and I have traveled much of the west, and I never really knew what that meant. Until now--especially about the ribbon of highway. On this trip, we have driven road after two-lane road that spread out before us for miles and miles, undulating exactly like a ribbon (or like a piece of that wonderful ribbon candy that appears at Christmas time, though not as tightly curved, obviously). I could look ahead and see the road rise and fall and rise and fall. I have never seen that before. I will never hear that song the same way again.

And one more thing...though it sounds a little (or more than a little) cheesy, and we stumbled on it in the most unlikely of ways, we have added to our "Westward Ho" playlist (which we play in the car every day) the theme song from Dances with Wolves. Whatever you think about that movie (and everyone seems to think something), the song is enormously provocative and is a wonderful match for the view of the prairie spread out ahead of you. When you hear it, you can see the wagons, you can feel the immensity of the plains, and, if you're me, you cry.

Here it is. If you've ever been to the prairie, then just close your eyes and listen. If you haven't been to the prairie--we hadn't--try to imagine, or look at the photo (not one of mine, but just like what we've seen every day for weeks) And if neither works, then play it in your car sometime when you pass this way. And if you can't stand it, and think I'm nuts, then just turn it off (it's your computer, remember?)and keep quiet--we're enjoying ourselves.