North by Northwest
A few weeks ago, Sharon and I decided we’d had enough. We had reached the point where we needed to get out of Dodge – or in this case, Paso Robles – because we’d had it up to our eyeballs with such affronts as record-breaking heat waves, horrible wildfires, terribly smoky skies, the ongoing coronavirus pandemic, and the continuing poisonous political atmosphere here, there and everywhere.
Yes, we decided a change of scenery – any change of scenery – might make us feel better – even if it meant driving through areas that had been so recently ravaged by wildfires. So on that lovely early-autumn Sunday morning in late September, we loaded up the car with “essentials” – mainly food and some clothes – and headed north. We stopped overnight in Redding – about two hours north of Sacramento and six hours from Paso.
That night, a wildfire was burning seven miles away, and evacuation notices were scrolling across the bottom of our hotel room’s TV. Fortunately, we were not among the evacuees. That “little” wildfire would go on to burn more than 56,000 acres and result in four deaths – just another in a series of catastrophic blazes destroying parts of California.
The next day, we continued north on the I-5 and drove straight through the unfortunate town of Phoenix, Oregon. It had been devastated by its own terrible wildfire two weeks earlier, and people had died there, as well. That fire burned homes and businesses right alongside the interstate, and deeper into wooded areas. Entire neighborhoods were destroyed. It was a terrible sight.
We motored our way up the Willamette Valley to the little hamlet of Amity, Oregon – where our daughter owns a hillside home she uses as a vacation rental. It’s a delightful place on 20 acres of woodland, with no neighbors nearby.
We spent a wonderfully quiet week there, traveling once to the Oregon coast about 50 miles away. That trip helped us decide we could never live there. For one thing, it’s usually foggy (as it was that day) – and for another, those signs that read “Tsunami evacuation area” were a sure turn-off.
We spent another day in nearby McMinnville – a picturesque place with a lovely downtown. McMinnville is one of those places where you think you could live. But you don’t live there, and Oregonians are probably quite happy to keep us crazy Californians away. 
One of the charming quirks we discovered about Oregon involves gas stations – yes, gas stations. Oregon is one of only two states in the nation (the other is New Jersey) that requires that your tank be filled by attendants. You can clean your own car windows, but an attendant must fill your tank. And lest you think that adds to the cost of gas – think again. We paid about $2.50 a gallon up there — a dollar less than what we pay in California.
After our nearly week-long stay in Amity, we headed east along the Columbia River Gorge and eventually north to I-90, on our way to visit Paul and Sharon Finlayson at their new home in Montana. They had decamped from our Paso neighborhood months earlier to live closer to their son in a community known – at least on highway signs – as “Montana’s Favorite Small Town” – Three Forks.
Paul and Sharon proved to be wonderful hosts during our stay. They took us places and showed us things – delightful places and interesting things.
Among them – Virginia City – yes, there’s one in Montana – an old gold-rush town that’s been preserved in its almost-original form. Wonderful – as was our “discovery” of the exact place where the Missouri River begins – where the Jefferson, Madison and Gallatin rivers come together, just outside Three Forks. I had always thought the Missouri began way, way up north somewhere – near Canada, perhaps. Nope. 
We toured other places, of course – including the delightful town of Ennis, where we had a tasty lunch outside a quirky place called the Gravel Bar restaurant – and Bozeman, the charming and alluring home of Montana State University and the mighty Museum of the Rockies, where we saw the nation’s best collection of dinosaur bones.
And, while we were in Bozeman, we happened to discover that the late, great Chet Huntley – yes, he’s the “Huntley” on NBC’s legendary “Huntley-Brinkley Report” – is buried in the Sunset Hills Cemetery in Bozeman. Being an old broadcaster who also loves the history of the business, I had to go to his site and pay homage. 
After three delightful days with Paul and Sharon, we took our leave and headed to Yellowstone National Park, where we saw what we had come to see. Bison? Check.
Old Faithful? Yep. Roaring rivers? You bet. In other words, Yellowstone was just being Yellowstone – magnificent. I’m not sure what this says about the two of us, but it was the first time we had ever gone there. That mighty park is just far enough from where we’ve lived most of our lives that we never quite had the time — or made the time — to go. After all, we have Yosemite in our backyard, as well as Sequoia and Kings Canyon national parks. Trust me — we are quite happy we finally made the trek to Yellowstone.
We spent that night in the growing community of Idaho Falls — and the next night in booming St. George, Utah. Along the way, we stopped at a number of places for gas and discovered that — especially in Utah — the whole concept of social distancing and mask-wearing during this pandemic is just that — a concept.
Few people wore masks inside any of the fast-food places that accompany the gas stations — and those who did were primarily women. Men — well, they apparently think it isn’t “macho” to wear a mask — that it shows weakness. Honestly, what we saw in those gas stations in Idaho and Utah was discouraging — and disgusting — especially since both of those states were, and are, having a spike in virus cases.
Well, enough of that. We rolled back into Paso this past Friday afternoon. We were gone two weeks, put 3,000 miles on the car, and had a great time. We also had missed another scorching heat wave that had rolled through these parts, along with more wildfire smoke and lousy air quality. So it was a “winning” road trip in every way, and we’re happy about that.