August 29, 2010 -- Welcome to Washington.

Once again, I am blown away by the west. Like every other morning, we began the day with an adventure to the local coffee shop, and today I found myself speechless when we entered “Liquid Planet.” Let me begin by saying, you should really check out their website to learn more about their mission. There you will also find what they sell besides coffee in the store. They go beyond the typical sundry of flavored coffees and loose leaf teas and offer a vast selection of beer, wine, and sodas (and no, not pepsi). Did I also mention they have 4, yes 4, different types of chai? Once I composed myself, I ordered myself a tiger tulsi chai and a raspberry scone. Both surpassed anything I ever tasted on the east coast. Things keep looking better and better, I tell you, I seriously love it here. This love continued to grow fonder as we drove the remaining few hundred miles to Washington. Unfortunately I found myself behind the wheel as we drove into the mountains of northern Montana and Idaho, and you can imagine the strength it took me to stay on the road. Idaho certainly took my by surprise, however. I always just assumed Idaho to have potatoes and flat land. Well you know what happens when you assume… We finally passed the body of water for all those people with boats we constantly saw driving past us pondering where exactly they have water activities. At last, we finally reached our destination. A “Welcome to Washington” sign tucked away in the median of the highway, and barely visible, greeted us. Since we made great timing, we arrived only a little past noon so after I spotted a sign for the Mount Spokane State Park, I decided hiking to be a necessity. As we pulled off the exit and past the shopping areas, we finally saw a glimpse of Washington’s golden wheat fields. The contrast of the blue sky with yellow from the fields brightened not only the picturesque view, but my spirit. The winding back country roads to the state park ignited my desire to explore the area more and more. As we pulled into the parking area for the trail head, we began reading the postings to beware of moose, cougars, and black bears. Welcome to Washington! I could sense my mood deteriorating, potentially due to driving and nerves, and, as always, a little nature cures all. Jay and I had an amazing hike and I felt after the whole trip we really solidified our relationship. With such an age difference, 12 years if you didn’t know, we always have been on different pages in our lives. Although these past few years have certainly had their bumps in the road, I am so grateful to have such a loving and supportive brother like Jay. I know I made the correct decision when I chose/asked/told him to drive with me across the country and I do not regret that decision. I especially realized the importance of having him when we ventured south to Pomeroy so he could see why he drove 3,000 miles. As we made our way south and away from civilization I could my emotions began to stray and my strength weaken -- where am I going? Soon, all you could see were miles upon miles of golden rolling wheat fields, its color vivid against the blue sky. With my eyes wide open and the anxiety increases as I anticipated the “Welcome to Pomeroy” sign, we finally arrived. Reality. Is this really it? My first reaction, “uh, shit. What did I get myself into. The google man lied!” (excuse my French). The 2 minute drive to get from one side of town to the other demolished my spirit. As we turned around and I begged to return to Spokane, back to people, buildings, traffic, real life, the breakdown ensued. My fearless mind quickly become flooded with a hurricane of negative emotions. “I can’t” became my new mantra that repeated in my head like a record skipping. I could not hold the tears in anymore and my brother kindly stepped up to the plate to handle his emotional distraught sister. He comforted me and I felt a connection with him that I hadn’t in some time. I managed to pull myself together enough to make it back to Spokane, knowing that in 12 hours he would be on a flight home and I would officially be on my own. Frantically calling my parents, I explained what I saw and they urged me to try it out before I judge it and if it doesn’t work out, then it’s not meant to be. I felt much more at ease and at last found myself able to sleep.

more to come tomorrow... but we made it!

Devils Tower, Wyoming.

Missoula* you! (*Miss all 'a you)

Oh Sundance, what a place! I woke up this morning before Jay and decided to go into town to find a coffee shop, and partially because I felt the need to see the town center in daylight. Now, I would consider myself a connoisseur of coffee shops. You see, when nursing school expects you to spend 73% of the your college career studying, and the other 27% stressing about it, you tend to need a change of scenery from the Halle library -- hence how Atomic Cafe and Starbucks stayed in business the past 4 years. Anyways, I came across the Wild West Cafe, and I fell in love! The atmosphere certainly attracted me to explore it further and the snickerdoodle coffee didn’t last long in my cup, need I say more? So, the whole point of staying in Sundance revolved around the fact we wanted to see Devils Tower. I took the wheel today which also meant I got to listen to whatever folking music I wanted to! I put on the Tallest Man on Earth, rolled down the windows, and soaked in the breathtaking views of Wyoming’s countryside… all while managing to stay on the winding and steep road. As we crept closer to Devils Tower, its shear beauty overtook me. This complicated things, so I made a wise decision -- pull over at the scenic outlook. You see, when faced with such a phenomenon of nature, how can you honestly keep driving without the potential of driving off the road? This moment reminds me of last summer, about this time actually, when my Dad and I visited the Grand Canyon. Then, I had an advantage because he drove, and as we approached the Grand Canyon I covered my eyes, refusing to look until I could take it in fully. You see, I couldn’t adopt that method when behind the steering wheel so I am proud to made a responsible choice. After taking a few dozen pictures, we made our way to the park entrance. We came across the “climber registration” hut once we parked and we both laughed as we joked that the difficultly level probably surpasses Carabiners (where we indoor rock climb back home). I overheard that one climber reached the summit in 18 minutes -- the route to the top inches close to 1 mile -- incredible! The more sane climber, on the other hand, takes about 2 to 6 hours, far more realistic. These climbers also use modern technology, unlike the first person who climbed it and created a very tall ladder -- fit that on your ladder rack. We took the Tower Trail around the base, about 1.5 miles. Each time I looked up, and nearly tripped over the oddly placed pedestrian speed bumps on the paved trail, I couldn’t help but think how incredible it must be to look out from the top of the tower. Maybe one day I’ll climb it! Along the trail, I found the punny sign of the day! The title “All cracked up” prefaced a description of how the cracks in the rocks form. So after spending some time in awe of such an incredible national monument, we headed back on the road. Update on the terrain: far more mountainous and hilly. We could see silhouettes of some mountain range in the distance and this perked me up. Don’t get me wrong, love seeing cows and horses amongst the fields of corn and sunflowers, but it gets boring after 1,500 miles. I also am slightly addicted to mountains so whenever I come across more than a 2,000 elevation erupting from the ground...it’s a big deal. Nothing too terribly out of the ordinary occurred during the drive through Wyoming. I did declare Wyoming my favorite state so far. I think the mixture of people, scenery, and the introduction to the small town lifestyle won me over. Eventually we crossed the border into Montana and it welcomed us with lightning storms. It began when we took a bathroom break just over the border at Garryowen, which has a free museum about the Custer Battlefield, a subway, and gas station -- all in one place. The sky quickly darkened and the impended storm gave me minor heart palpitations. Again, my only concern -- Celeste. All day I thought about how excited I am to explore Pomeroy and the surrounding area by bike. My mind kept wandering into the thought of biking across country. I know what you’re thinking, “Wow, she’s crazier than I thought!” But hey, you only live once and the world looks completely different in the saddle (aka that seat that looks seriously uncomfortable, but manageable if you get those stylish spandex with padded shorts). So I couldn’t bear to think if she got struck and I couldn’t ride. Now, as we traveled further into Montana I relapsed on nature. The sky here is unlike any New England sky I’ve ever seen. The clouds swooped down to a point where I contemplated whether I could reach. However, between the clouds and patches of sun, I saw it. The biggest mountain EVER. It made Franconia Notch look like an ant hill. I couldn’t stop starring, and I could feel my facial muscles change tempo from slightly excited to ecstatic -- love at first sight. Thank God I stopped driving! When I rolled down my window to take a picture, though, I noticed something. It smells weird. I inhaled a mix between burnt trees, freshly mowed hay fields, and... fresh air? And this smell did not confine itself to just that one point. We stopped in this seriously awesome town called Livingston (which I really want to come back to one day), and I smelt it again. We went to a great mexican restaurant called Fiesta en Jalisco. I ordered a vegetarian burrito that literally was the length of my forearm. Needless to say, I couldn’t finish it and I still had a food baby. On the highway we saw a familiar license plate too, New Hampshire! Jay made sure he reminded her she hadn’t fully escaped massholes. After dinner we continued driving through Montana and the stormy weather continued. Let me tell you, lightning storms in the middle of nowhere that has nothing but darkness and valleys is, uh, scary, but actually really cool. I must say, I have been surprised by the clusters of civilization Montana has. It has been some time since we’ve seen city life and Billings and Butte brought it refreshed us with plenty of lights and Walmarts. We reached Missoula around 1am, apparently the time the bars get out around here. It feels like those weekend nights at Endicott all the noises, but I’m sure thats partly due to University of Montana right down the street. Almost there! 

Mount Rushmore.

“If you look down, you’ll end up in the ground. Just look where you want to go.” - Louis

South Dakota has surely surpassed all other states for providing bizarre happenings. Our day began with a scavenger hunt to find a coffee shop in Sioux Falls. When we searched for a place to stay last night, I noticed “Connie’s Coffee & Bakery” only a block down from the Econo Lodge we stayed at, so I suggested we go. Well, apparently Connie left town. So, our GPS directed us to “Wild Flower Coffee” in downtown. Yeah, I guess someone weeded the garden and took out the Wild Flowers. Now I figured for a downtown area, they must have a coffee shop so we walked around a few blocks and found nothing. On a tangent, however, Sioux Falls actually seems like a pretty cool place to explore -- a lot of trendy shops and restaurants. It slightly reminded me of Portsmouth, NH, but minus the Friendly Toast. So, we got back into the car and decided to explore another coffee shop just up the road called something along the lines of Clay Coffee… guess what? Doesn’t exist either! With our mouths parched, stomachs grumbling, and attitudes getting sour, we gave it one last shot -- the “Firehouse Underground.” Sounds kind of indie, right? I thought so too, and when we arrived after I told Jay to keep going past the Starbucks because you can get that anywhere… well, lets just say I should have indulged myself with a tall soy chai latte. You see, the Firehouse Underground, located in the downstairs of what seemed like an office building, had a great sign explaining its… coffee house? Yes, the Firehouse Underground actually provides a meeting place for conversation and coffee for “people who love Jesus Christ.” Yikes, not my cup of tea. So, as Jay began to descend I said, “Uh… I don’t think we want to go there.” Needless to say, we promptly left and got on the highway to find someplace else along the way. We found a Perkin’s Family Restaurant some miles down the road, and finally got our coffee and breakfast… at 1pm. Back on the road again our terrain hasn’t changed too much -- corn fields, cows, and endless fields of grass surround us constantly. Side note: people don’t honk out here like in Massachusetts… I will need to get used to this. After some time of driving, we found ourself at a scenic rest stop on the Missouri River because of course my bladder can’t handle more than 30cc of liquid. So I enter the building and look to my left. This happens to be a Lewis and Clark themed area, and amidst the tent replicas and informational signs, I see a bearded guy with a Red Sox hat. “Hm..” I though, “we’re in the middle of South Dakota… who would be wearing a Red Sox hat?” I walked towards him and to my pleasant surprise… Mike Lepage! Talk about coincidence; my first true high school romance and I reunited in the middle of South Dakota, hilarious! We talked about our travels and then went on our separate ways, assuring we’d keep in touch as to where we end up. I find moments like this so phenomenal. Of all the places you could be at one point in time, how is that we both chose that same place? Blows my mind. Anyways, so I wanted to take some pictures while we stopped of the river and rolling hills. I asked a woman if she could take a picture of my brother and I. As she handed the camera back to me, two men had walked over and one of them says, “Now you’re supposed to give her a big kiss.” Pretending I did not actually hear those words and burying my face in my hands, I replied, “Uh, no. Thats my brother. I would be scarred forever.” Jay made some comments along the same lines, while the man laughed and said, “Well it’ll be a picture for the family album! You’ve got to do it once, then you can say been there, done that. Then it’s over and you don’t do it again.” I’m almost positive I tasted vomited in my mouth as we walked away. After that experience, we headed out. Since we went over the Missouri River, the land has gone from flat to rolling hills. Favorite part of the drive in South Dakota definitely goes to the massive fields of sunflowers that seemed to go on forever… so beautiful! For those of you who aren’t aware, sunflowers top the list of favorite flowers followed by passion flowers. The wind here has been very, very gusty and every time I open the window to take a picture of something, it sounds as though I’m opening the emergency exit on an airplane. Poor Celeste has been abused during this trip; she’s covered with bugs and who knows what else. I must say, there has not been many punny signs in South Dakota. In the restroom at Perkins I found, “Wash and dry your hands well. For the health of it.” I considered it a 6 on a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the punniest; I still appreciate the message, though. We made our way to Mount Rushmore in the late afternoon, which proved a perfect time to appreciate the beauty of the monument. As you approach it from the road, which the view has changed from flat farmland to rolling hills to mountain ranges in the distance, you can see the presidents. To think someone actually carved the rocks to form recognizable and historical figures completely amazes me. We hung out for some time, took pictures of us picking Abraham Lincolns nose, and roamed around the gift shop. I waited outside while Jay made some purchases and when he came out he told me that the people he stood with in line were from Swansea! The coincidences of the day just keep getting weirder and weirder. As we inch closer to Pomeroy, I continue to feel very positive about this move. No pleas to turn around or questioning why I thought this to be a good idea -- all good things! My gut tells me I will be fine and I am getting more and more excited to begin this new adventure. Back to traveling, we entered Wyoming and it greeted us with some lighting in the distance -- my reaction to the lighting? “uhhhh whooaaaoooaaa! I hope Celeste doesn’t get struck!!”. The mountains in the distance definitely put a smile on my face and I look forward to seeing Devils Tower tomorrow. When we arrived in Wyoming we checked into a hotel in Sundance and decided to check out the local bar called the Turf. There we met Gerry, and no, not my Dad. He gave us the official welcome to Wyoming and invited us to bar hop to the other (and only other) bar in town, the Dime Horseshoe Bar. Jay fit right in, while I kept my mouth shut and smiled when the conversation turned political. The people out here are very, very friendly and I had a really great beer called Easy Street. Gerry kindly introduced us to everyone in the bar and we had a great night. I’m beginning to like this western lifestyle. 

Say Cheese!

Gee, these mid-west states are pretty corny... more than me!

After a much needed shower and contemplating whether the hair dryer or my hair caused the burning smell in the bathroom, Jay and I started our day with Bob Evans. Deciding against the usual eggs and toast for breakfast (I figured Bob just wouldn’t compare to Dad’s omelets and egg sandwiches), I ate the best bowl of oatmeal with brown sugar and dried cranberries -- beat the Callahan, hands down! Unfortunately, the food and caffeine did not ease the headache I went to sleep with so when we stopped at the gas station, I decided to get some extra-strength Tylenol. As I walked into the store I held the door open for a man loading a hand-truck with beer. Well, he went from “Thanks, sir.” to “Thanks mam” to “I shouldn’t call you mam, I don’t want to get slapped this morning. Thanks, miss.” I couldn’t help but laugh and inform him I wouldn’t slap him. He later told another man working inside that I should get a free beer for helping him out…. I’m still waiting. Jay took the wheel for the first part of the day due to my headache -- which I didn’t complain about! We drove through Ohio which involved corn fields… corn fields… and more corn fields! I felt like I could see for miles and miles, the clouds appeared to just go on forever -- quite an incredible view. Whoever said the world is flat must’ve been looking from the mid-west because I would believe them too. Anyways, I decided that Ohio wins the prize for nicest rest stop so far. I felt like I entered an airport terminal. Starbucks, Panera, and classy music welcomed me and I enjoyed it very much. When we got into Indiana I took over driving, since my headache went away (thank you, peanut butter sandwich and Cape Cod potato chips!). Indiana proved similar to Ohio with, you guessed it, more corn fields! I’m telling you, I thought I had the corny-thing going on, but these states are way worse! Indiana won the punny sign of the day with “Are you feeling haul right?” I caught it quickly, but my educated guess leads me toward a U-Haul advertisement. I enjoyed it. So, Illinois also had lots of farms and corn fields. Each time we see the “Welcome to….(insert state here),” Jay and I have found it amusing to adopt the Count (from the Muppets) voice and say the number of states we have gone through. Example: when entering Illinois, “7 states. Ah ah ah.” So not long after taking over driving, the impending gas light caused me to make a very ethical decision: do I stay on the highway and go to a conveniently located BP at the rest stop or go a little out of my way to a different gas station. Well, I did it for the sea turtles and refused to go to BP -- Jay laughed at my protest. By the time we switched off I-80 (or 90, I can’t remember) and onto route 39, I could hear my stomach erupting -- I needed food. With some convincing, and threatening a very grumpy KFo, we stopped at “the Iron Skillet.” What an experience. This trucker stop clearly saw its fair share of men and women who pass through in need of “homestyle” cooking, which of course entails meat, meat… oh did I mention meat? I could feel the emotions sinking in, “I’m so hungry and all I want are veggies!” My eyes began to quiver. “Crap” I thought, “I need to pull myself together! There are truckers surrounding me and when they ask, ‘honey what’s wrong?’ what am I going to say, ‘There’s no vegetarian options on the menu!’” Needless to say, I pulled myself together and focused. I decided to order the tortellini… sans meat sauce and sausage. “You don’t want anything on it?” the waitress asked. I sensed the shock, and potentially judgement, and I timidly replied, “No, thats okay.” As we pumped gas around the corner, Jay spotted something I had never seen before, a tractor trailer which read, “Mobile Chapel: Transport for God.” Hm, I’m sure not in New England anymore! Jay took over the driving and I nursed my stomach ache. We found our way into Wisconsin, sang a little Ke$ha and danced. Jay has found an enemy on our trip -- my bladder. We have seen many rest stops, which I feel entitles me to judge them -- hence Ohio taking top honors. We arrived at Wisconsin’s welcome center/restroom about 15 minutes after leaving Rochelle in Illinois… poor girl, she seemed like a nice hitchhiker (insert knee slap, desperate laugh, and “but that’s funny!”) -- Rochelle is the town we stopped in for dinner. Anyways, the endless corn fields created an incredible foreground of the amazing sunset as I sprinted into the women’s room. My camera informed me its batteries were “exhausted” which meant rummaging through my organized-but-slightly-unorganized belongings to find my practically free 40-pack of AA batteries (Thank you, Lauri!). Luckily, they weren’t buried at the bottom of a tote so we were in business. As we drive into the night sky of Wisconsin, every so often a random water park surprised us… seriously, there’s been at least 4. One even had a ferris wheel while another was named “Noah’s Arc.” We also passed by some sort of bicycle museum. I pouted as I disappointedly asked my brother, “Why is it 9:30?” We crossed into Minnesota and saw signs for the Mississippi River -- too bad we could only see darkness. However, the terrain turned a bit mountainous for a few minutes… but it didn’t last long. We made it to Sioux Falls, South Dakota where we called it day. I will leave with the greatest named inn in Wisconsin: the “AmericInn.” 

The beginning of sibling bonding.

Vagabond in Ohio!

Lines from a few of my favorite traveling songs echoed through my head as I loaded up Edward (my Volvo and fearless driving machine) with Dad. With John Denver singing, All my bags are packed, I’m ready to go, I felt confident as we strategically managed to fit all my belongings into the car with enough room for me and Jay -- and of course Celeste (my bike) on the roof. As I assumed the position in the drivers seat and slipped the shift into gear, I turned on the most appropriate song I could think of, Vagabond by Wolfmother (I highly suggested finding it on YouTube and listening...fantastic! Thank you, Laura for introducing me.). Once I picked up Jay, said “goodbye” to Mom and Dad, and drove by the ocean just one last time, the road became our paper and Edward the pen as we began to transcribe our adventure into life. As the miles passed, the familiarities I grew accustomed to faded as new and untraveled land lay before me. The memories of visiting family and friends throughout New England, the long rides to soccer games and track meets, and the comfort of knowing home did not involve more than a two hour drive, granted Boston traffic favored in my direction, resurfaced and produced a feeling of bittersweetness. Since accepting this position, fear has not interrupted my optimism. No feelings of apprehension have surfaced during this whole process which provides me with the reassurance I made the right choice. 

So, I drove from Dartmouth to Stroudsburg, PA which had its fair share of interesting things. The punny sign of the day award goes to New Jersey with “Give us a brake, slow down!” We decided to grab something to eat at a diner in Stroudsburg called “Triplets Family Restaurant.” Apparently craving some additional protein for my practically-a-vegetarian diet, I felt the need for a tuna salad wrap. Now, after roughly 5 hours of driving and only one break in Connecticut, my brain did not exactly know how to function properly… and neither did my mouth, apparently. The waitress asked what I would like and as I spoke I could hear my struggle. The mumbled nonsense of “tuna salad” came out, finished off with “wrap” in a terrible southern accent. Even I wasn’t sure what I said as the waitress kindly asked, “what?” Needless to say, Jay took over the driving from that point for the rest of day and I sure did not complain! I love the passenger seat! A ways down the road in Pennsylvania we decided to stop for gas. For the first time I saw a man dust with one of those fancy feather-looking contraptions… except he wasn’t dusting an end table, but his car. A little too obsessed if you ask me. The rain finally stopped and we got some blue skies and priceless views of farmland… which there’s plenty of out here. Also, news about host family -- I have one! I’ll be staying with a nurse practitioner who works at the clinic I’ll be at. Her family has a farm which I’m very excited about! I’ve always said if nursing doesn’t work out, I’d love to be a farmer. Alas, our night ends in Girard, Ohio after a slightly sketchy stop at the rest stop just over the Ohio border. Day one complete. Enjoy.

I'm moving to Washington... as in the state.

Greetings all.

Thank you for indulging yourself into the blog of an amateur traveler who can make anything 'punny' and, in relation to her/my life, considers the traditional route of a newly registered nurse indescribably and utterly unappealing. So thanks, but no thanks, night-shifts and 2 years of medical-surgical floor nursing -- I'd prefer to save the world and create my own path...

After an overwhelmingly long, nerve-wracking, panic inducing, and strenuous application, interview, and decision process, I recently (give or take 3 weeks ago) accepted an offer from the Pomeroy Medical Clinic in Pomeroy, Washington. Here I will be following my passions of volunteering and community/public health by participating in a 10-month AmeriCorps program. Pomeroy, located in the southeastern corner of Washington and conveniently located a mere 35 miles from Idaho and the nearest Walmart, will become my new home and serve as an opportunity for me to experience the rural lifestyle.

With a rough estimated population teetering around 2,000, I will escape the norms of Dunkin' Donuts gracing every street corner and streetlights mocking me as they turn red each time I abruptly come to a halt after missing the opportunity to cruise through the yellow light. Instead of the 'head-down with a hummingbird's wings stride' culture I grew to love and hate in Massachusetts, I will come to learn the true meaning of community -- otherwise known as "a feeling of fellowship with others." Because whether we realize it or not, we can define ourselves by the places we chose to live. As I choose to relocate across the country to a state I've never visited and a city I've only visualized through the little orange man on google maps, I am committing myself to be apart of Pomeroy and live simply, honestly, and genuinely. I will engage with the citizens of Pomeroy on a daily basis and not just restricted to the Pomeroy Medical Clinic. Rather including, but not limited to the grocery store, on Main Street, or at the Soggy Bottom Coffee House. I will offer my skills and resources to my new neighbors and community. By choosing to live rurally, you tend to want a break from a time-obsessed and materialistic society to create that feeling of fellowship to grow and function independently by working together without threatening a simple lifestyle.

So in a sense, rural* in this together (*we're all) to create a community we can call home.