day 8: seattle!

That's enough driving for now, I think.

day 7: bozeman to spokane

Western Montana and the Idaho panhandle are quite breathtaking. I really, really want to go back to Bozeman and spend some actual time there. Ditto Coeur d'Alene. But for now, it's a just a hop, skip and a jump to Seattle, and our soon-to-be friend Annie's house to rest up for moving into the new digs on New Years' Day.

day 6: fargo to bozeman

Yes, that's a long way. And that's all I really have energy to say about it.

sometimes i repeat myself, too

Me, over three years ago:

The only way airline security has a prayer of being 1) effective, AND 2) not completely absurd, is to make each individual airline responsible for the security of its own flights.

Locks on cockpit doors? The only reason it took so long for that to happen--the airlines were waiting for the government to do it. If the airlines knew it was on them, how much do you want to bet they would have been installed on 90% of planes by September 18, 2001? (It's not like they were flying them that week, you know.)

Long lines at security? Do you think the TSA gives a shit if you miss your flight and have to rebook? Do you think the airlines might?

If/when there is another terrorist incident on an American flight, what will happen in the TSA? Do you think anyone will get fired? Do you think their budget will be cut? If anything, more people will be hired, and the budget will be increased. [Ed. Clearly I overlooked pointless, stupid fucking rules will be added.] If the airlines were responsible for their own security, how long do you think the airline on which the incident occurred would be able to stay in business?

OK--so who really has an incentive to keep you safe when you fly?

Next time you're going through airport security, take a good long look at the person telling you to take your shoes off, and tell me if you really believe they're doing this job because they want to make a difference.

To which I will only add that they can have my book during the last hour of flight when they pry it from my cold, urine-soaked pants.

day 5: a break in fargo

Spending the day with my father-in-law, and waiting for the roads to get just a little bit nicer.

Tomorrow: on to Montana!

day 4: st cloud to fargo

Or, "how 165 miles can feel like the longest drive of your life."

It sucked. But we're here. Possibly for two nights, depending on how this goes.

I'm pretty good at backing a trailer for someone who doesn't do it regularly...but doing it in an unplowed lot adds a whole new dimension of anxiety,

day 3: milwaukee to st. cloud

Today I thought it would be fun to race a blizzard to Fargo. Guess who won?

No biggie...this morning I thought we'd be lucky to make it out of Wisconsin. We managed to hit the Twin Cities hours after their snow and just behind the plows. Lovely. It started snowing right after we passed St. Cloud, so I turned around and found us a Motel 6.

With any luck, the roads to the west will be cleared tonight/tomorrow AM, and we can make a short drive to rendezvous with the inlaws in Fargo.

Now begins the search for Christmas night pizza delivery in St. Cloud...

day 2: huntington to milwaukee

Hauled ass today, for nearly 12 hours. Would have been less, but somehow ended up taking 90 east from Gary instead of west, despite following every sign to Chicago I saw.

Anyway.

I'm pretty sure we're going to get snowbound somewhere in Wisconsin or (if we're lucky) Minnesota tomorrow. A day off of driving wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen anyway.

Hope you all have a Merry Christmas.

day 1: durham to huntington, wv

So far, so good.

Lots of snow on the ground in NW NC and western VA. The dog loved romping in big piles of it at the rest stops in VA.

I-77 through VA was crowded and slow...I think we'd be well into Kentucky tonight if not for that. Plus, apparently we managed to pass through Wytheville, VA the only day that anything of note ever happened there. A couple of state troopers flew past us in the emergency lane...since we never saw a wreck, I'm guessing they were headed there.

I have friends both from and relocated to West Virginia, so I've never been one to cast aspersions on the place or its people. But tonight at a local liquor store, I watched not one but three clerks puzzle over whether the young man who had presented them with an ID saying he was born in 1992 was able to purchase alcohol. This lasted for five minutes. I'm not exaggerating. And yes, they had one of those calendars that tells you what year you have to be born in to buy.