Hit the Road, Jack

Nineteen days on the road. The first three days we clocked 29 hours of sitting, so I stopped counting hours in the car after that. Five people, in one rented (thankfully large) car,

What did we do?!

Played the Harmonica

Fiddled with Yarn

Really, REALLY Enjoyed Picnicking at the Rest Stops


Were Weird with the Cousins

Stopped at Diners


Looked at the Scenery (and the cows… and the giant buffalo statues…)

Scoped out license plates

Chatted with the Highway Patrolmen

Loaded and Unloaded the Car



We also snacked, and listened to audio books, and Mad drew pictures on her arm, and Andrew sang SO loud–and sometimes all was quiet, and we simply looked out the window at the changing scenery…

If you like details, then here is the tour–Santa Barbara, California to Las Vegas, Nevada to Glenwood Springs, Colorado to Fort Collins, Colorado to Randolf, Nebraska to Keystone, South Dakota to Bozeman, Montana to Goldendale, Washington to Portland, Oregon to Crater Lake National Park to Fort Klamath, Oregon to Lassen Volcanic National Park to San Jose, California–then once again home, to Santa Barbara.

5,244 miles

Many dollars in gasoline

Will we do it again next summer?

No way. That would be pressing our luck–plus, we’re hoping to revisit la sourceand let our sourdough starter soak up some more yeasties from the place of its origin–if we can drum up a few free plane tickets. Anyone with a few free plane tickets?

But that’s then, and this is now, and …we’re HOME!


7 thoughts on “Hit the Road, Jack

  1. Love, Love, Love this blog entry… encapsulizes your trip so that those of us that were not so fortunate to be along felt as if we were…so with you on the “not doing that again next year” thing though… you brave souls!

  2. Thank you so much for sharing this wonderful trip with us. The photos were fantastic and the stories highly engaging. BTW, chatting with patrolmen? Maybe we need one more story!

    • Ah, yes. The nice highway patrolman who said we were driving 74 on a lonely road in the middle of nowhere, Nebraska. Well, we probably were, but my husband had the car on cruise (at 70) and there we were, me with yarn in my lap, and Beethoven playing, and all the kids happily engaged in something, plus all the bags stuffed, stuffed, stuffed in the back. And my husband was super respectful, calling him “sir” at least a dozen times in three sentences. He probably only gave us a warning–because we’re the rare Californians that will drive all the long way to go to a small town reunion in the heart of Nebraska. Who knows!

      And that’s the story 🙂

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