Publication date for this blog is day three on a forty-seven-day
road trip wandering from our place in Savannah to our home in Michigan’s Upper
Peninsula. Before we arrive home, we will have traveled in at least twenty
states (probably twenty-two) and one Canadian province. The car’s odometer will
have recorded an additional 6,500-7,000 miles. We’ll have driven well over 100
hours; some of the hours will be bogeying on interstates, more will be
wandering what William Least-Heat Moon has forever labeled for me as “blue
highways.”
We designed our route
from Georgia to Oregon to visit as many National Wildlife Refuges as we have
time for. I’ll check off a bucket list item when we catch the sandhill crane (Grus canadensis) migration as it hourglasses
at the Platte River.
As many as a quarter-million cranes pour into the Platte
region as they move up from the bottom of the hourglass encompassing the Gulf
of Mexico through Arizona, pinch at the Platte and spread across northern North
America. (There are other sandhill crane flyways in North America, but this is
by far the largest.) We’ll be there at the end of the migration, so we’ll see
how many cranes are still around given the early warm Spring in that part of
Nebraska.
In Oregon I’ll spend six days improving my writing skills at
the Donald Maass workshop while Jan tours the area around Mt. Hood and visits
friends in Portland. On the second portion of the trip we’ll catch family in
St. Paul, Minnesota; I’ll participate in a bridge tournament at Lake Geneva,
Wisconsin while Jan visits family in Highland Park, Illinois; we’ll visit more
family in Rochester, New York and some of Jan’s childhood friends in Lansing,
Michigan.
Given the early warm weather, we expect mud season will be
over by the time we reach home. If not, we’ll add an extension onto our trip
until we can drive in the last fourteen miles of logging roads to our place!
I plan to take a photograph every fifty miles, no matter
where we are. The process will provide a visual record of the topography and
vegetation changes as we move up from twelve feet above sea level across the
Appalachians, back down into the Mississippi drainage, up into the plains, over
the Rockies, and back down toward sea level as we reach the West Coast areas.
The only gaps in our photographic recording will be when we drive at night.
If you want to follow the trip, I’ll be posting on my
personal Facebook
page, and I expect to add more pictures using my personal blog My Two Cents (Before Inflation).
So come along with us on the trip, if you wish. I’ve
discovered our friends fall into two camps: those who think this is a marvelous
idea and those who think we are bloomin’ crazy. Which group do you fall into?
ReplyDeleteWhat a great trip and adventure, Jim. I wish I could go on something like that, unfortunately, I have obligations to critters as well as no one who would have the time to take a trip like that with me. Have fun!
Can I straddle the line? I think you're bloomin' crazy but that's it's a marvelous idea and, crazy or not, you will love it & be glad you did it!
ReplyDeleteI think you guys are lucky - enjoy!
ReplyDeleteGloria -- that's why we are critterless currently so we can do stuff like this.
ReplyDeleteKM -- you probably hit the nail on the head.
Shari -- we are and we will.
I'm envious that you are going to attend Donal Maass's workshop. Having heard about it for years, the information and techniques you will learn about are well worth the jaunt over to the West Coast. Crazy--more like wise. Investing in learning is never crazy.
ReplyDelete