unfocused north american tour '04--Days Fifteen and Sixteen

Bozeman, MT to Ft. Collins, Co to Lubbock, TX
Two day's Mileage: 1,161 mi. Total Mileage: 8,308 mi.
TT: 21 hrs. TTT: 126 hrs.
Quote of the Day: "I have a plan"—Mass. Senator John Kerry (said at least one hundred times)
News of Note: "Heavy rains make things tough for area farmers."—The Lubbock Avalanche-Journal

My aunt being my aunt, we're sent off the next morning with sandwiches. We cross Montana a little refreshed (and certainly much cleaner) and make for Fort Collins. Crossing into the Crow Nation, we gaze at Little Big Horn and, as usually happens in these cases, the picture of history becomes less fuzzy. Seeing the river itself, the suddenness of vegetation and the ease of the slopes, the last moments of the Seventh Cavalry (if you pronounce it "cal-vary" in front of me, I swear I'll hit you in the mouth) become more defined. There is Sharpshooter Ridge, further down the line from where Reno lingered (and the hill bears his name). On that rise, the majority of the men perished. Standing at a gas station waiting for my brother (and avoiding the gaze of very unfriendly natives) I wonder at the importance of the battle and its place in the collective imagination of our country.

While desolate, I don't find crossing Wyoming as painful as Andy does. It has its charms. And its dangers—we pass through Casper and I glance off to the east toward Crystal Mountain, fully aware that this piece of real estate still controls the ability to turn this planet into a glowing ball of mush thousands of times over.

Tracy meets us under a steady rain in Fort Collins. Her husband, Jeff has, like my uncle been called away on business, so we only get to visit half the package. I imagine that our trek across the west has taken on L'Amourian character: in each homestead we stop, we only find lonely womenfolk. We watch (okay, I watch) the first Presidential Debate and play a Star Wars video game. Over the last two days the elements of civilization are creeping back into my sensibilities, as if I'm in a cultural decompression tank.

The next day is the last stretch. Denver traffic sucks. While Andy curses under his breath for the span of two hours, he negotiates it ably. After stopping in Trinidad, Colorado ("Transgender Capital of North America!") for gas we slowly wrap up the perpetual sensation of going downhill near the New Mexico border and the landscape gives way to the Plains. Outside Amarillo, I'm greeted home with a spectacular sunset.

Then, home. Thanks for coming along. A few final thoughts to come.

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