I love diners. You can really get a sense of the community you are in when you hang out in a diner. All the important business of small towns happen in a diner. Strangly, the further west I get, the more older anglo men become the center of small towns. Well behaved women support them, but are rarely vocal. All the conversations I've overheard in diners were by men. Plus, diners are fairly inexpensive to eat at. One of my road rules: find a diner not a McDonalds.
I also love maps. Real paper maps, not the GPS kind that talk to you. I love the visual effect of looking at a map and seeing all the different places to go. I will forever remain the Queen of fantasy road trips. When I planned my trip to Utah, I bought an oversize Rand McNally map book and started to plan my route. I had five days to get to Salt Lake City. I would spend hours going thru that map book. I was driving from Virginia to Utah and had three options to take. I could go south thru NM and up to Utah, I could go north through Chicago and Wyoming and drop down to Utah or I could drive straight across through Kansas and up through Colorado. All very good, interesting choices, except for the most direct route, through Kansas. I refused to drive through Kansas.
When I was 12, we took a family cross-country camping trip in a turqoise station wagon, hauling a pop-up camper. Every kid should have that sort of experience, except by the end of 6 weeks, 5 people in tight quarters becomes four people too many. On our way back to Virginia from Yellowstone, we found our way to Kansas. The sky was a horrible color green, and there was no noise. Not even an insect sound. My father made the wise decision to stay in a hotel that night. We checked into a Ramada Inn and while we were having dinner, looked out the window to see a twister popping around. Kansas is fricking flat. That twister could go anywhere and everyone in that restaurant stopped what they were doing and just watched. I was terrified, and since that day, I refuse to go to or through Kansas. Ok, so I have a phobia of tornados.
With going straight across the country out of the question, I chose the northern route, through Wyoming. All my material things were gone and it was just me and Kia in a little blue Toyota Celica. It was a convertible, which made it even sweeter. We left Virginia before dawn. Leaving is exciting and incredibly sad and scarey as hell. A whole lifetime was in my rearview mirror. I have never been so certain of a decision as I was to become a VISTA volunteer however that certainity was tempered by serious, doubt-inducing regret. I cried through two states until I was out of tears. Then I focused on my future.
Traveling with a dog is a wonderful thing. First and foremost, you have to get out of the car every two hours which is a good excuse to get out of the car and walk a bit. It's no fun traveling with a dog east of the Mississippi because very few places allow pets in the room. Thankfully, there was a website I found that highlighted pet-friendly hotels. I had planned on camping rather than stayng in hotels, however when it poured the rain the second night on the road, it was a hotel from there on out. I did camp the first night out. I have pictures to prove it.
I have to say I was only scared once. Well maybe twice. My best friend had just come back from a cross-country trip, by herself, and told me when I hit Wyoming that I should stop every time I see a gas station and fill up. Excellent advice. Somewhere east of Green River, Kia and I got out at an Exxon station. It was the scariest place I've ever been. The gas station was at the bottom of a mesa. On the top of the mesa were these huge wind turbines. Nothing but rock and a couple of pickup trucks. I filled my gas tank with Kia on the end of the lead, and walked into the store to pay with her on the end of the lead. Bad ju-ju in that place.
I loved that road trip. Iowa is amazingly green and beautiful with rolling hills for miles. There's a reason America is the breadbasket of the world. Nebraska was all about sunflowers. They were everywhere and happen to be my favorite flower. I pulled off the road in North Platte Nebraska for the night at this little mom and pop motel. When we got into the room, I saw a little notice on the bathroom mirror: In case of tornado, pull mattress off the bed and cover yourself in the bathtub. In case of tornado. Damn, I thought I had that covered by not going through Kansas! Clear skies that night. Whew.
Five days on the road, and we made it to Salt Lake City for a week of VISTA training. I didn't think my little Toyota would make it up and down the mountains after Green River Wyoming. I find out later that carboratours are adjusted for altitude and my little car was used to sea level. Utah is beautiful and has lovely rest stops. That can't be said for most of the rest stops we visited along the way. The mountains are breathtaking. Salt Lake City is beautiful and clean. Really, Really Clean.
We had made it to Utah. In another week, we would be in Blanding, 375 miles south of Salt Lake City and a long way from anything.
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