To Newport and Back

 

We've got the bug. The new car bug. We been talking about it for months. Since last spring. Our old dinghy - the 1998 Jeep Laredo that we tow behind the motorhome - is just that. Old. And tired. You would be too if you'd logged 165,000 miles. It's still running good, but needs attention, or a nice, easygoing place to retire. 

We've been looking. Towing a car 4 down (four wheels on the ground) requires a certain type of transmission. Few cars qualify. But we have found a few and test-driven three very nice cars. The plan is to trade our Honda Odyssey, which can't be towed, for a nice vehicle that we can tow and also use as our only family car. Now that we're retired, we only need one. But our Honda was in Newport, and we were in Olympia.

Yesterday the weather seemed to be improving, after three solid days of rain here, and snow at home, so we jumped in the old Jeep and headed across the mountains. It rained lightly going across the Cascade Mountains, then cleared up, but got windy over the plains.

The sun set before we reached Spokane. As it reached the horizon, it cast long shadows and golden light on the rolling hills and fields of wheat all around us. The drive over reminded me of the patriotic song, America the Beautiful.

O beautiful for spacious skies, 
For amber waves of grain, 
For purple mountain majesties 
Above the fruited plain! 
America! America! 
God shed his grace on thee 
And crown thy good with brotherhood 
From sea to shining sea!


As the sun set, it was behind us, so I set my iPhone on reverse, held it up to my side window and snapped a bunch of pictures. My pictures won't win any prizes, but they caught some memories.

We got to Newport around 7 PM. Spent the night at our house, thanks to Vickie’s hospitality, then switched cars and headed back to Olympia this morning in the Honda minivan. We’ve loved that car, so the drive back was a bit nostalgic. We’ve taken some wonderful trips in that car. The day was clear and beautiful, if a bit cold (27 degrees). Stopped in Ritzville for a nice lunch at The Cow Creek Mercantile. The highwas was clear with light traffic and no wind. As we neared the mountains, the high peaks were stark white against the blue sky. Breathtaking.

We were loving the drive all the way across the  and the mountains—that is, until we hit Interstate 5 just north of Tacoma. 

 For the next 2 ½ hours we crept along the three lane parking lot of red taillights in the early darkness. I hate traffic. But there were blessings. It wasn’t raining. It wasn’t snowing. And when we finally made it back to the motorhome, we were almost giddy with relief.