Our car is covered in farm dirt and dead bees, which Dan views as sweet vengeance for the bee that flew through the car window the first day in Hope and stung him in the neck.
Two hours after our departure from Hope, we stopped in Bellingham to visit with Steven and Brenda, more old family friends (Dan observed that my parents have the coolest friends ever, which is really true), and then zoomed through Eastern Washington. We rested in an amazing little town called Ritzville, population 1736. My camera stopped working so these are all iPhone pics:
Next stop was Missoula, MT. It's a college town with a good creative writing MFA program, so I've always been curious about it. Too bad I already got my MFA; I could totally live there. We stayed in a cute B&B courtesy of a gift card from my brother, and the next morning we cruised around and enjoyed the benefits of the liberal oasis (vegeterian food, unsweetened iced tea, record stores). I forgot to take pictures for a couple days starting now, ewps.
The Montana leg of the drive was my favorite. We were well-rested from the B&B, and Dan played perfect music from his bottomless iPod. Through the big-sky farmland and silo towns, it was Lee Hazelwood (Cowboy in Sweden, Best Of, Nancy and Lee). Through the rocky terrain of mining towns and war memorials, Scott Walker (Scott 4, Scott 3, Nite Flights). Through the sudden expanse of yellow nothingness with blue NO SERVICES signs at every exit, a cowboy set of George Jones and Glen Campbell. And then through the "crazy mountains" of gnarled broken trees, we satisfied an inexplicable Neil Finn craving with Crowded House and Split Enz. It was so fun to watch the landscape of our country changing so quickly and organically, giving way to different climates and cultures and products in the time it takes to finish a single greatest hits.
Then there were patches of green trees, one out of every ten a burnt red color, and Joni Mitchell and Jim Guthrie, and then we dipped down into Wyoming for a bit. And then there was South Dakota. South Dakota went on and on. And on.
I don't even remember where we spent that night. At every hotel, we had to unpack all of Dan's instruments and everything in the backseat, which we did with a bleary-eyed sympathy for touring musicians everywhere.
We were giggly tourists at the Wall Drug store:
The Badlands were immense and scary and made you feel like some 19th Century Souix was about to casually pop out from behind a rock any minute.
South Dakotan vegetarian cuisine:
Iowa was adorable, a sharp change from the prairies. It looks a lot like Indiana: lush and green with big yards and happy farmers. We had lunch in Iowa City, another famous writing/MFA town that I've always wanted to see. By then we were so close, we just wanted to beeline for Indianapolis.
Grandma greeted us with freshly baked cookies and invitations from both uncles: watch Mad Men at Pat's bachelor pad? meet Tim for a drink? We did both, touring Tim's studio and drinking a beer across the street, and then driving to Pat's to watch Mad Men on his 133-inch TV. More updates and photos from Indianapolis coming soon; we're just settling in, unpacking, stocking the pantry with food, and generally getting our land legs back.
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