A Few Favorites



sunset in Malta, MT on June 29



We've covered too much ground to catch you up on where we've been and what we've been doing for the past few weeks, at least in any great detail. So I thought I'd just share some of my favorite pictures from that time period and then we'll all be up to speed.

descending out of the Bull Mountains south of Roundup, MT. Billings is down there on the horizon somewhere.

We've driven through a number of the states out here, our first two trips going through Montana. From there we headed to California and then Utah. We've also been to Arkansas and Missouri,  passing through Nebraska on July 4th. They were combining grain there, about two weeks earlier than usual according to a friend who lives there, because it's so dry.

Storm clouds were gathering over Sidney, NE as we entered the western side of the state on I-80.

Those clouds didn't really produce anything, but later in the evening, over east of North Platte I drove through a really nasty storm with strobe light effect lightning and literally horizontal rain. It was really intense there for a few moments.

After delivering in Arkansas and reloading in Missouri, we headed to Washington. Wyoming was the picturesque state on that tour. It was a good day to be in Wyoming with a camera!

the hills between Cheyenne and Laramie

Elk Mountain hiding it's tip in the clouds

a storm moving in near Rock Springs

in northwestern Wyoming near the ID state line on US30

From Washington we went to Oregon and loaded corn which went to California. I always enjoy the drive down US97 through Oregon, passing along the eastern edge of the Cascade Mountains.

north of Madras, OR

 And then back up to Utah, crossing the Salt Flats at sunrise. After two weeks of cloudy air, the haze was starting to clear, which was a big help for pictures.

After delivering in Utah, we loaded wheat in Idaho and went to Montana where we loaded barley. And that brings you up to date. The barley load scenery was shared in my last post, Crossing the Midwest.

Today we're in Nevada about to load gypsum. Then we'll head to Idaho. Don't know where we're headed after that, but glad we're moving along at a nice pace, and hope the loads keep rolling in like this.

From Bend to the Border

I hope your not tired of eastern Oregon after my last post, because I have more pictures from another trip.

 On Wednesday, we loaded fertilizer in Halsey, OR. That's south a bit from Portland. After loading, we headed east on US20. We hadn't driven that first section of 20, over the mountains, before, so I was stingy and just enjoyed the scenery without taking pictures to share. Oh, and what scenery it was! I doubt we'll ever go that way again, because it was pretty winding and we lost time. But it was also very scenic, so, though you probably won't ever get to see it here, I do hope you'll get to see it in person one day.

"Over the rivers and through the woods." That was on the Oregon Scenic Byway signs, and I thought it was cute and appropriate. Eventually we came out of the woods into Bend, OR. From that point, it was all old territory. Old, but never dull. As you read last week, I love eastern Oregon.

 The section between Bend and Burns is wide open and empty. You can look out the window and clearly see why they call this the high desert. But don't take "desert" and associate it with "devoid of life." This land is rich in plant and animal life. Grass may be a bit sparse in places, but sage brush and cedar shrubs aren't, and there's still enough grass to support some cattle ranches. As far as wildlife goes, it's out there. Antelope, coyotes, deer, and even wild horses. I've never seen the wild horses, but as you approach Burns, you pass the BLM wild horse corrals, so you know they are out there. I've also seen the pictures on the blog Life at the Rough String. Yep, this is Rough String country! If you've not been to Karen's blog, or if your hankering to read more about life in eastern Oregon, the Rough String is a great place to start!

I didn't get pictures in Burns because school was letting out and traffic was kind of heavy so I stayed busy with that. But it's a neat little town in an oasis in the desert. The fields around Burns turn into wetlands in the Spring, and though they weren't as saturated as they were a few weeks ago when we went through, there were still plenty of water foul hanging around to admire.

A little ways east of Burns, the landscape starts to change. Those blue hills that were visible in all directions on the horizon between Bend and Burns are suddenly very present, and not just hinted at by distant vistas.

 Every few miles, you find yourself deeper into the hills.

 It's some rough country, but they still have farms and ranches here. They are just have a few more miles stretching between each other than they do in greener pastures.

 There will be gaps in the hills where the farm and ranch homes are. And then the road tucks back into the rocky hill passes.

 Eventually the hills start to thin out and its farther between the passes

 About 30 miles before you get to the border, the road passes through the second town it keeps company with, which is Vale.

 Thirty miles later Oregon says goodbye.

 ....and Idaho welcomes you.  We stopped at the rest area on the border to let the girls out and enjoyed the view looking back into Oregon.

And then it was time to look ahead, towards the east.

From Bend to the border is a trip of about 260 miles. Beautiful scenery stretched out between two rural towns, a great way to spend the day on the road.

 We delivered in Colorado the next morning. Our week, from last Saturday morning to present. As you can see, we've had a more varied route than we did the previous week.

Today we delivered in Twin Falls, ID. We're supposed to load potatoes and take them to North Dakota next, but they don't want to load us till in the morning. An entire day to.....catch up on sleep.....and more entertaining, an entire day to go SHOPPING! I just happen to know where there's a good size parking lot in Twin Falls that's within easy walking distance of a Barnes and Noble bookstore and a few other shops. I've had a "let's go shopping" bug nibbling at me the last few days. So Malcolm and the girls are going to sleep, and I'm going out on the town!

Hope everyone has a great weekend!

Dedicated

There are different ways to truck. Some drivers go all over the place, a different load every time. That would be us.
Some drivers are "regional" drivers, meaning they do different loads but stay mainly in the same part of the country, such as the southeast, or northeast, etc.
And then there are drivers that are "dedicated," and those drivers mostly do the same load (sometimes a little handful of loads) over and over and over again. Just the same destinations, back and forth, and back again.

This past week, we got to pretend to be "dedicated" drivers. It wasn't our plan to try it out, just the way the broker needed the loads run. Apparently there was a shortage of fertilizer in Idaho, and so we, along with several other trucks, spent the week going back and forth hauling in their fertilizer for them.

It isn't easy to see I know. I had a hard time getting my reflection out of the picture. But the green line is our route.

We started last Friday in Stockton, CA on the port. The fertilizer is brought in from overseas and they unload the ships cargo into warehouses there. Some of the port buildings are in the old Rough and Ready Naval base that closed in 1996. It's neat to go in there and see the old buildings and warehouses.

After loading, we'd head north to Sacramento, and then turn west on I-80 and drive into the Sierra Nevadas, crossing Donner's Summit, dropping down past Truckee, CA and making our way towards Nevada.

still a little bit of snow up top

back on the bottom, almost to the state line

Have you ever noticed how sometimes the landscape changes dramatically at state lines? Clearly geography played into the determination of boundaries and territory lines when such things were being determined. When you cross into Nevada, the mountains almost immediately fall away and appear only in the rear view mirror. There are a handful of large hills when you get east of Reno, but they are short lived. After that, it opens up onto the high desert.

It is so dry here this year! It's terribly dry at home, but as we've been driving around these past few weeks, we've come to recognize that eastern Montana is not alone. There is a serious lacking of the color green in most of the western states we've been in so far this spring. Nevada usually is rather brown and tan, but there should be a little bit of a green glimmer in there this time of year. It was missing.

At Winnemucca (try saying that fast several times), we turned north on US95. This two lane highway stretches in a nearly straight line for 120 miles before veering off to the east.

This is a long stretch of empty highway. There are only 2 towns in the 120 miles before the road bends east. They are itty bitty towns that the highway just shoots straight through with hardly a slow down.

Long valleys of cattle country and hay farms stretched between rocky mountain ranges.It's beautiful and open, vast and empty. You'll pass a sign that warns "Next gas 100 miles" and later "Open Range next 130 miles." I love it!

When the road does bend to the east at Burns Junction, a little intersection with three boarded up buildings and a weigh station that's open randomly, you still have another good 100 miles or so of open empty land. And one and a half more towns, the larger being Jordan Valley, before you get back to "civilization." There is a cafe at Jordan Valley that we enjoyed meals at this week. The JV Cafe had excellent home made soup, and other things to enjoy as well.

Malcolm and I really like this part of Oregon. We have discussed it numerous times and feel that if we ever have to move again, if we don't go back to TN, we'd like to live in southeastern Oregon, maybe somewhere around Burns or Jordan Valley.

The last stretch of road takes us over some steep hills and past an Idaho weigh station, and 20 miles later we pull into Nampa, ID where we delivered the fertilizer.

The whole run was 586 miles one way. Between last Friday and this morning, we did it 4 times, bouncing empty the entire distance back to Stockton to reload. Easy driving through beautiful country, and I'll look forward to being out there in the Oregon outback again soon. But for now, we're grateful for something different. It was time for a change. Apparently we're not ready for dedicated driving. It was getting a little bit old.

After delivering this morning in Nampa, we're headed east to the other side of Idaho. Got a load of potatoes waiting on us that have a date Monday morning with a french fry cutter in North Dakota.

Before I go, a sneak peak at the "new" truck. This is the '99 W900L Kenworth we picked up in Pennsylvania a few weeks ago.

 It's being tweaked at the shop in Billings. It's nearly ready to come home though. So far the plan is to probably take it out for it's maiden voyage towards the end of August. That is, unless anyone walks up and offers to take the gray truck off our hands. Anyone interested?

Blocks, the Broken Leg, and a Book

Good Morning! A few odds and ends to share now that I've finished my peppermint stick hot chocolate, fresh from the vending machine at the truck stop. Hey! I got to get my holiday cheer where and when I can!

Blocks:

Yesterday we delivered first thing in the morning in Woodburn, OR. After we were empty, we had no where to go, so Malcolm asked the plant employees if we could park in an empty area near the back of their facility because I wanted to go for a walk rather than spend the day parked at a truck stop somewhere.

It was early and very few business were open, which was fine. I just wanted to take in the sights and stretch my legs a little. It was kind of fun having practically the whole town to myself.

One of the great things about photography while traveling, is that since you don't know any of the people and in all likely hood will never see them again, it's easier to move past your self-consciousness and do things like kneel on the sidewalk, or hang your head at an odd angle to get a picture, because who cares if these strangers think I'm weird?

There was pretty much just one strip of stores, all of which were catering to what must be a Hispanic area. It was interesting to peer into the store front windows, (and later in the morning, Malcolm and I walked back into town and ate one of the best Mexican meals I've had in a long while)! But after I'd walked main street, there wasn't anything else to see. I was turning around to go back to the truck when a glimpse down a side street changed my mind.

It seemed to call me to wonder down it, and I am so glad I did. There were holly trees galore, red berries gleaming in the morning sun.

Old homes stood behind shade tree. Gurgling fountains and singing birds could be heard as I passed by some of the fenced yards.

 And some of the Christmas decorations looked like they came out of magazine pictures.

But my favorite sight of the whole morning was this house that I stumbled upon. It sat one house down from a corner on a street I almost passed by. I would have never dreamed of painting my house mint green and then putting raspberry red trim on it. I'm glad someone else thought it would work, because it definitely does! No need for Christmas trimming in this yard, because the house is festive just as it is, and lovely the whole year through.

My stroll through Woodburn, OR was a delightful way to start the morning.

The Broken Leg:

Thought you might like an update on Paris's broken leg. It has been a bit of a thorn in our sides, our sides, not Paris's. For the most part it's gone smoothly, but when something goes wrong, it's such a frustration because I worry so much that we're going to cause her permanent damage. The splint simply would not stay in place. Over the course of the week, it would slip further down her leg, a centimeter or so at a time. And since we weren't supposed to mess with it but maybe once a week to change the wrappings, it was hard to know if it was OK to fix the slipping or not. Add to that the challenge of keeping her from getting sores beneath the splint, sores that I can't see, sores that I don't know if they're forming or not, because I can't unwrap the splint but once a week.....it was a headache.

Last weekend we were home for a couple days and since we were there, our regular vet said I could bring Paris over and she'd check the leg, etc. So Monday before we left, we went down to her house and when she saw how much Paris's splint was slipping, she laughed, literally. I guess a laugh is better than her being upset!

( I should have taken a picture, because your probably picturing Paris with one leg 6 inches longer than the other. Really it only extended her leg by maybe an inch, but I didn't know how much was too much slipping and how much was ok.)

Anyway, she called Paris's surgeon in Belle Fourche and conferenced with him on the phone, and they came to the conclusion that it would be ok to leave the splint off. Yippee!!!! We were all celebrating, especially the patient. She has been SO much happier ever since!

As I had been assured and reassured that the splint was really just a secondary support, I felt more relief than concern. The only real "warning" was that she absolutely must not jump. Of course you all know how easy  impossible that is prevent! I thought this would be my only challenge.

Paris was quick to show us that the splint  had not just been a secondary support, but also had been protecting her stitches....from herself. We were home a couple of hours and just before leaving went to dinner at Malcolm's parent's, and upon returning home, we found Paris unbandaged, with swollen, angry looking stitches. She'd been hard at work during our absence.

We bandaged her back up, hoped for the best, and headed out for eastern North Dakota.

By the following afternoon, we had delivered our load, reloaded the next one, and rebandaged Paris's leg FOUR times! She was also, by this time, missing two stitches, and absolutely delighted with herself.

Obviously this wasn't working! I was tempted to put the splint back on just for it's protection, but it was creating it's own problems, as before mentioned. The solution was found in Miles City, MT, where we stopped that evening to have dinner with Malcolm's parents who were in town running errands. Before diner, we went to the ranch supply store, to their pet supply aisle.

Things have been a whole lot simpler for me since last Monday, though not near as nice for Paris.

She'll thank me for it later, though at this moment you wouldn't have been able to convince her of that!

It has several benefits. She can't get to her leg to lick and chew the bandages, she won't sink if she decided to go for a mid-December swim, and it's a lot easier to locate her beneath the covers when she's hiding in bed.

Actually, after a few days we decided that it was ok for her to wear the inter tube necklace only when she was unsupervised, such as when we're out of the truck or asleep.

So she gets to lounge beneath the floor heater in comfort, snuggle in my lap, and she doesn't have to charge her way between the computer stand and passenger seat to force her way past. (it was rather comical in a sad sort of way to watch that). Of course the other day, during what was supposed to be a "supervised" time, the supervisor forgot to keep an eye on her, and later she was discovered curled up in the sleeper floor, with the bandage down around her ankle, two more stitches removed, and going to town on a third one.

We have an appointment next Wednesday with her surgeon for a check and xrays. I hope the rest of the stitches, the remaining 4 of the original 8, can come out honestly at that time. Fingers crossed, because it would make one less concern for me to keep track of.

And a Book:

I just finished a book I picked up over Thanksgiving weekend. And since I wanted to start saying more about what I read, rather than just put the picture in the margin, I decided this would be a good start.

It's one of those books that I picked up because the title and cover picture appealed. And then I read the synopsis on the jacket cover, and was hooked.

The Dovekeepers, by Alice Hoffman

Set during the Roman siege at Masada, The Dovekeepers tells the story of the siege from a woman's perspective. Four women, their lives and fates intertwined, tell their stories through first person accounts, of how they came to be at Masada and what transpired there. The book is broken into four parts. The first part begins with Yael, a motherless women whose father is an assassin, telling her story of love and tragedy. In the second part, Revka, a widow who has watched her only daughter be brutally raped and murdered by Roman soldiers and now has the care of her grandsons to consider, picks up the story where Yael leaves off. Aziza, a warrior at heart who is raised as a boy, but then confined to woman's garbs, continues where Revka's part leaves off. And the stories telling is completed by Shirah, a woman who knows ancient magic and medicine, who is devoted to those she loves, even though she knows it will be their undoing,

For the full synopsis you can use the link above to go to the author's website. I thoroughly enjoyed this book. It's the first of Alice Hoffman's books I've read, but I plan to look into what else she has to offer. Consider adding this one to your 2012 book list. And if your in a book group, this one would be great for discussion, especially in a group with diverse religious and cultural backgrounds.

On an Icy Day in Oregon

 Crossing the Cascade range today on state route 58 in Oregon, we were heading west, from the high desert regions south of Bend, over to the balmier I-5 corridor near the coast.

At the highest point of 5000 feet, we ran into fog, though it felt almost more than fog. The mist is so heavy and damp here, it seems to want for more of a name than just fog. Maybe it has one. I don't know.

 Sunny skies from half a mile back down the mountain soon were completely obliterated by a heavy cloud of freezing mist that was doing it's best to encase everything in a frozen crust of ice.

 Further down the mountain, the fog had lifted, but the sunny skies were no more.

 We made our way down the mountain, meandering along, taking our time because we only had 200 miles to go today in order to deliver Monday morning.
About half way down the mountain I discovered that I had forgotten to keep an eye on Paris, who was lounging in the floor of the sleeper, delightedly accessing her bandaged leg and removing more stitches (another story in and of itself...these past weeks have been a test of my patience in so many ways.) The road was winding so I asked Malcolm to find somewhere to pull off so I could re bandage the leg, and we'd just go ahead and let the girls out while we were stopped since their last break had been a while.

The place he found to pull off the road.

 Leg bandaged, dogs relieved and back inside the warm truck, I told Malcolm I wanted to get out and take a few pictures.

These last days, no weeks really, have truly been a battle of wills within  myself, at the center of which has been a river of feelings, mostly centered around uselessness, unfulfilled, empty. Thus the lack of blog posts. I wake up in the morning thinking "I should blog today" and by the end of the day absolutely nothing has inspired me or felt noteworthy. The same can be said for pictures. I used to love taking pictures, but lately I see nothing worth the effort of getting the camera out and looking through the lens at.

But moss laden trees in the picture above seemed to insist that the effort be put forth for at least a few pictures.

I'm glad they put their roots down and insisted that I come out of the truck to do the job. One step forward, and a glimpse down the ravine, and a few more steps became absolutely necessary.

 The path was short, but steep and rocky, and everything was encrusted in a thin layer of ice. And as I stepped down onto the first slippery moss covered icy rock, I realized how long it's been since I did something like this. I've become afraid of falling and get nervous walking down even a grassy slope unless I have Malcolm's hand to hold. When did that happen and why?

Here I was stepping down onto cushions of icy wet leaves covering rocks I couldn't really see, feeling my feet on unsteady ground, feeling my nerves get edgy and my confidence wane and I didn't like it. I almost turned back, only one step in.

 But that's part of the problem. I'm tired of feeling like I'm not participating in life, seeing it slide by my window and not being apart of it, missing out on things. That's been a huge part of my self-inflicted misery of the past days, feeling sorry for myself because we miss out on so much. And I sit around blaming the truck and our career of choice. But realistically, I guess a great deal of the problem is not so much the truck, though it does complicate participation in many things. It's me. I have taken a truck load of things I want to do and can't really because of the position I'm currently in, and let it become a weight around my neck, holding me back. The reality is, yes I'm missing out on things, but while I sit around feeling sad for what I'm missing, I'm loosing opportunities that I only have because of what we're doing!

 I think I need to make myself get out of the truck more and climb down more icy paths more often. The reward is worth the momentary feelings of discomfort and uncertainty.

  And though I will still regret what I'm not able to do because we're on the road and not at home, I hate to think one day I'll be home instead of on the road and look back and regret not taking the opportunities I had that are no longer.

Each cautious step down that slippery path revealed one after another beckoning to take a closer look through the lens. I really should do this more often. I've missed my camera.

That 5 minutes that I was out of the truck, with my camera in my hand, with minimal road noise because the creek was drowning it out, and all by myself, creeping out onto water's edge boulders that were mossy and icy so that I could get a limb free picture of the creek...

 I felt peaceful. I should climb down those icy banks to the water's edge more often.

 I have had a dark weekend, caved up inside myself, brooding and thinking and not much of it has been positive. But out of the darkness, there are a few points of light starting to emerge.

 And one of those is a re-realization that I'm missing out on more than what I'm pouting about missing out on.

 I don't think the dark thoughts are over. I  know they aren't because I haven't finished meshing through them all yet. But those 5 minutes among the icy leaves and ferns, I realized how much I've missed blogging and my camera.

 And I really hope that I can find motivation and inspiration to participate in this activity that I love so much. It has been a creative and social outlet for me, and I need to not let it fall to the wayside.

When I felt I'd spent as much time as I should in the creek bottom, though not as much as I would have liked (I would have stayed there all day) I climbed back up the bank, and got back in the truck, and showed Malcolm one of the pictures I'd taken that I thought I'd like a lot once it was on the computer and large enough to really see. He pulled out onto the road, and I got settled and pulled up facebook on the computer to put up a picture to share. And since I was on, I scrolled down the page to see what other's had to say today. And someone had posted this:

Kind of makes me feel like looking over my shoulder to see if there was someone there reading my thoughts these past days. The thing is, I know there was Someone doing just that.