We finished our cross-country drive last Saturday, but I’ve been too busy to blog about it.

We left Iowa and crossed Illinois uneventfully into Indiana. We were cruising along when we hit all manner of roadwork south of Indianapolis. Indiana turned to be the capital of construction delays with no apparent actual construction. What’s more, its drivers don’t seem to know how merge when traffic is slow. Instead driving in two lanes to the merge point and then merging, everyone wanted to merge as soon as they saw a merge sign. Even truck drivers, who should know better.

So instead of arriving at our Thursday campground at 4, we pulled in at 6:30 and saw … another line. Continue reading

We are in the middle of our second annual migration east from Whidbey to North Carolina to spend the winter with the family. We’re making a quick trip by our standards — eight days instead of our usual three weeks.

That means a lot of travel on what my friend Mitch calls zombie roads — interstates — and not much time for enjoying scenic wonderspots. Instead we’re doing a lot of what you might call drive-by sightseeing, with photos snapped from the car as we roll by. Continue reading

Last week we became tourists without going far from home. The occasion was a visit from granddaughters Sophia and Annika and their mother, Katie. I guess some people would call it a staycation, but when you’re retired, every day is a staycation.

Katie and girls flew in on Saturday afternoon and, after driving back to Whidbey, we started them off with a home-cooked dinner of salmon (Sophia’s favorite) and noodles (Annika’s). Sunday we headed up to Greenbank Farm, where we visited our friends at the Rob Schouten Gallery, took Teddy for a walk in the fields, and had lunch at the Whidbey Pies Cafe. Robin had huckleberry (of course), Katie had cherry (of course), the girls had salted caramel apple, and I had my usual (a fork). Continue reading

For those of us of a certain age, it is comforting to attend a concert where people even older than we show that they can still rock out like they were in their 20’s. So we had quite a good time Saturday at a Crosby, Stills, and Nash concert at the Chateau Ste. Michelle winery in Woodinville. Considering how old they are (73, 69, and 72 respectively) and how many drugs Crosby and Stills did, it was a pretty amazing performance. It gives hope to the rest of us. Continue reading

From Yellowstone we continued west into the Bitterroot section of eastern Montana, where Chief Joseph and the Nez Perce fought a losing battle against the U.S. Cavalry.

We spent two nights in the Bitterroot National Forest, about 30 miles south of the town of Darby, on the West Fork of the Bitterroot River. This was real camping. No hook-ups, no wi-fi or cellular signal, no flush toilets, or showers. Just us and the natural world. In fact, the first day we had one whole end of the campground to ourselves. It’s a beautiful spot. Continue reading

We spent three nights in Yellowstone, which was barely enough to get a taste. It’s a magnificent place, but it covers 3,472 square miles. Our exploring was also limited because dogs are banned from many of the interesting parts of the park, including the hiking trails, and we had Teddy with us. (Teddy feels this is discrimination and is contemplating legal action.) Continue reading

We have returned from an impromptu two-week trip to Rapid City, S.D., and back. As reported on Facebook, the primary purpose of the trip was to surprise the granddaughters, who were traveling with their Dad. They were suitably open-mouthed when we walked into the restaurant where they were waiting for a table.

We spent two enjoyable days in the Black Hills, accompanying Tim, Sophia, and Annika to Mount Rushmore and Wind Cave National Park. We had been to Mount Rushmore before, and while the girls enjoyed it and it’s interesting to think about what a monumental feat it was to create, the patriotism is laid on a little thick for my taste. Wind Cave, on the other hand, was new to us and quite fascinating. Continue reading

We enjoyed the scene at the Kate Wolf Music Festival, but ultimately we came for the music. We were not disappointed.

The well-known acts (“well-known” meaning that I had heard of them) were as good as you would expect: Joan Baez, Los Lobos, the Indigo Girls (who I liked more than I thought I would), the New Orleans Cajun band Beusoliel, Rodney Crowell, and Tom Paxton. So were acts that I know but you may not, like the Duhks (pronounced “Ducks”); the Playing for Change Band, made up of street musicians from all over the world; and the bluegrass duo Tim O’Brien and Darrell Scott.

But a lot of the fun was finding favorites among performers who were new to us. Among them: David Luning, a Sonoma County singer who reminded me a little of John Prine and Arlo Guthrie; Amy Helm, the daughter of Levon Helm of The Band; Joe Pug, who some have compared to Dylan; the Blues Broads; Three Women and the Truth (Mary Gauthier, Eliza Gilkerson, and Lynn Miles); and Paper Bird. Continue reading