Isn’t family what it’s all about after all?
But now for the ROAD TRIP.
Life in Minnesota moves along just as it should. Sleeping again, visiting cousins, stocking up on moose and walleye sweatshirts and enough new shoes for all the abs classes and walking marathons of next year. And a road trip. Granted it was not of the fifteen-hundred-miles-plus kind I enjoyed so much in the past—still it did stir some slumbering road-trip genes awake. This is good since Scott, Teresa and I are road tripping across Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan in the near future.
My Minnesota road trip took me west on US 2 (in times past the main east-west route in the northern US) from Grand Rapids to Deer River, up Highways 46 to Northome, 1 and 72 to Baudette, 11 to Roseau, 89 to Red Lake and on down to Bemidji and finally US 2 back to Grand Rapids. About 400 miles. It’s not the most spectacular route—no mountains, oceans, grand cities or historical monuments but there are enough aspen, spruce, balsam, and birch for my annual/biannual tree fix. Between Roseau and Bemidji the grand sweep of Red Lake keeps me occupied and the first visit in 20+ years to Lake Bemidji and Paul Bunyan and his loyal companion, Babe the Blue Ox makes me happy. Mom and Dad were married 81 years ago on the shores of Lake Bemidji.
I’ve made road trips of over 4,000 miles in the past, often by myself, and loved every dusty or rainy or ragged or scenic mile and almost every second-rate motel. The Albuquerque to Grand Rapids trip of a couple of years ago finished off that lifelong passion and, while it makes me a little sad and a little nostalgic to say that…it’s time I suppose. My first long trip was when my family moved briefly to Portland, Oregon when I was sixteen and I wound up driving much of the way, especially through anything resembling an urban area. My dad had never driven in a bigger metropolis than Bemidji and he wasn’t about to start then. The car was a maroon 47 Chevy (Robert remembered) and since the trip was in ‘55 it was a newer model than we usually owned. I lost the car in (to me) a huge Portland parking lot our first week or so there and my mom and I had to take a bus downtown and spend most of a day searching for it. Northome (300 pop.) had not prepared us well for city life.
Back to yesterday.