Cross Country (Part sixteen)
What a trip! I cringe when I think of my mother as her two youngest kids pulled out of the yard three months earlier. I don’t remember how often we called home, but I venture a guess that it was not often enough for her. After all, there was no such thing as a cell phone so we had to rely on pay phones. Our journey had passed all too quickly as far as I was concerned. Our hearts were sad as we left the land I had come to love as a small child. Instead of looking back, I decided to look forward. to the last leg of our journey.
As I have relayed our story to you, I think of things that I left out, mostly by accident. Just last night I thought about visiting other cousins as well somewhere in California, Townsend, and Hysham. I also left out picking buffalo berries with Babs, picking gooseberries at Olson Field, and chokecherries with ElVera. Buffalo berries are vicious little critters to pick. Long, long thorns protect the berries tucked up at the base of the thorn. You have to be serious about jelly to pick very many of those salmon colored berries. Our gooseberry jelly had little stems in it, otherwise we would still be trying to separate those little woodsy slivers of stem from the much too small berry. But, boy, was it good! Chokecherries make the best syrup and the jelly’s not too bad. We managed to make room for jars of jelly to go home with us. I picked stems out of my teeth for quite some time.
Old Faithful
We still had a couple more stops to make. Though we had been to Yellowstone National Park on more than one occasion (and have since then, too), that was our destination, if only just to pass through. There had been an earthquake there about six weeks previously. I don’t remember seeing any effects of the quake. We were only two of 2,239,500 people to visit Yellowstone that year, but we didn’t stay there long. Our road took us through Yellowstone into the Tetons. Those mountains are fascinating. In the geological world of mountains, the Tetons are a relatively young range. They are sharp and jagged and absolutely breathtaking, not worn away by age. We visited the Chapel of Transfiguration with its big picture window that has a picture-perfect view of the Grand Tetons. I remember the mountains looking like “purple mountains majesty.”
Chapel of Transfiguration
When we got to Rock Springs, Wyoming, the road was wide open. By that time, knowing that our journey was coming to an end, we just drove. I was surprised that I had about forgotten what trees looked like. The further east and south, the more trees. The landscape changed from being virtually treeless to seeing as many trees on one acre of land as we had seen in five hundred miles. Thick foliage became lush, dense and green on trees that seemed to grow like magic bean stalks. It was then that I thought maybe I had missed the green trees just a bit.
By the time we got to Kentucky, the end was almost in sight. We drove down a country road that wandered through farmland. Fields of tobacco, some freshly cut, reached for miles, separated by trees along the edge of the fields. A thick “fog” hovered over the valley. We came near an old barn that had smoke billowing out of cracks and seams and under the doors. I thought it was on fire until I saw part of the barn opened up. It was then I saw the barn was filled with tobacco hung upside down as it was smoke curing. I was once again reminded that each part of the country has its own culture and personality.
After that, it was only a matter of hours before we turned into the driveway. I’m sure when we got home, we had many stories to tell. Surely our faces reflected the grand adventures we experienced. We unpacked and took special care with the treasures we brought home. By far, the greatest treasure we returned with was a whole passel of memories of places and people who had crossed our paths. Priceless.
I hope you enjoyed our grand adventure. Thanks for taking the journey with us!
Grand Tetons