There are 10 states between Boise and New York City. Ten, and this includes Idaho and New York. So far, I've made it
to the end of Wyoming and I've got three more days to go. The idea of 10 States has me thinking, when I was younger
my family made it a twice-yearly habit to trek across the country by car - looking for national monuments, exotic
scenery and the kinds of arts & crafts you'll only find in the smallest of towns.
Every summer and holiday break my father would load the 1968 Dodge Charger, color: Brown, and head us off to Points
Unknown. My little brother, Paul, and I loved these road trips as the car was decked out especially for us. Dad had
fashioned a platform in the backseat, made from plywood and layered with blankets, this large bed was our playground,
our napping field and our dreamworld. Stored underneath we had access to mayonnaise and white bread and lettuce and
American Cheese; around the back window we had a platform to race Hot Wheels and put on sock puppet plays for any
car lucky enough to follow us. We had an active imagination so, when we were amongst boring scenery such as in
Nebraska, we could rely on our minds to festoon a wild west street scene amongst which our sock-covered hands
would play.
This road trip is significantly different - it's all business. And the sorts of technology that was once relegated to the
dreams and imaginations of engineers has proven useful as we plan this road trip while the miles between Boise and New
York roll along. It quite frankly amazes me that my parents pursued the sorts of adventure they did, kids in tow. I
suppose it helps that Paul and I rarely fought, that our demands were low and all we really wanted was to See Things
and stay in hotels with pools - bonus points if it had a slide (they never did).
The spirit of the open road is in my blood, this is why a drive across country does not daunt. I like seeing the country
from the ground as much as I like flying above. But amongst the scenery and the people you get a feel for life that you
don't from the skies. With that in mind, I do recall vividly the United States of the 1970's - each state and its people,
food, cities & towns, billboards and the General Feel were much more unique from place to place. Now, I can hit a
Home Depot, Target and Outback Steakhouse in most any city along I-80. I don't like it. I very much miss the taste of a
cheese sandwich while feeling Very Out of Place. I don't want to see the same things I do in Idaho, I don't want to eat at
Outback when there once was an abundance of Mom&Pop diners along the roadside. I miss Stuckeys and scary gas
stations and the strange tastes of homemade cooking coming from a local greasy spoon - usually one of five we had to
choose from.
So far, all I've noticed as the miles fly by is the scenery. It, at least, still changes from the distinctive red windblown
cliffs of north eastern Utah to the blue tinged white cliffs of western Wyoming and the flatland farm fields of Nebraska.
At least the country still has it's beautiful and distinctive landscape. At least much of it is untouched and undeveloped.
always, t