On the Road

Joe Meche is president of the North Cascades Audubon Society and also serves the chapter as newsletter editor and birding programs coordinator. He has been watching birds for more than 50 years and photographing birds and landscapes for more than 30 years.

Editor’s Note: This is Part I of a two-part series. Be sure to pick up the next edition of Whatcom Watch for Joe’s next “Beaks and Bills.”

Evoking the spirit of Jack Kerouac, the allure of the open road has been a big part of my being for as long as I can remember. The more contemporary Blue Highways by William Least Heat Moon is a paean to the inner vagabond in anyone who loves a good road trip. Flying is certainly an option when you need to get from one place to another, especially when time is limited. Traveling closer to terra firma rather than flying 35,000 feet above it, however, is certainly more appealing to me and often quite rewarding.

Fate smiled on me when I found a partner who also enjoys the simple concept of taking off and seeing what the road has to offer. While we enjoy shorter jaunts, Cindy and I long for extended periods of time to pursue road trips, but we rarely have the luxury of time for longer getaways. This year, however, we found that we could plan our annual fall trip for three weeks on the road. While the motivation for the entire trip was related to family in southwest Louisiana, we still had a lot of ground to cover between here and there.

The first leg of the journey involved our usual practice of getting an early start at the proverbial crack of dawn. With all the loose ends we had to secure before we actually left town, dawn cracked on that first Sunday at three o’clock….in the afternoon! Not a couple to be disheartened by such a late start, we knew that wherever we spent the night, we would be on the road. Goodbye Bellingham….hello Moses Lake!

It was a perfect start for us to travel over Snoqualmie Pass in the pouring rain, only to drive into typical eastern Washington weather on the dry side of the Cascades. On the way to our first night away from home, we encountered the beginning of three weeks of blue skies and spectacular fall weather. We were treated to the first in a series of striking sunsets and sunrises. In our small, self-contained RV, we had the added luxury of being able to stop for the night whenever and wherever we felt the urge.

Still in the breakaway mode from the day before, we left Moses Lake the following morning, this time before dawn. On this day, we set our sights on Yellowstone National Park, in the northwestern corner of Wyoming. For anyone traveling in the West, Yellowstone is a must, and the best time to see the world’s first national park is in the fall, well after the crowds have thinned and the weather is more tolerable. Cooler temperatures and fewer bugs make for happy campers.

Toward the end of the day and well after dark, we motored through the north entrance to Yellowstone. After wending our way through herds of elk and past a variety of other wildlife, we found a perfect place to spend the night – a deserted parking area above the Norris Geyser Basin and right next to the public restrooms, where someone had left a light on for us.

Early morning in Yellowstone reminds me that magic still exists in the natural world if we slow down long enough to look. On foot and with a first cup of coffee in hand, I explored the area we had driven into after dark and was pleasantly surprised – we were surrounded by geysers! After a quick breakfast we headed into the heart of Yellowstone. Once again, the concept of rising early was the key to beating the crowds, albeit much smaller crowds than during the summer months.

With the lower temperatures of the morning, all the geysers seemed to be at their best, lending an eerie quality to the landscape. We hit all the hot spots early, including Yellowstone Lake and one of the most dynamic vistas in the park – the Lower Falls of the Yellowstone River. We had the morning to ourselves, unless you include the ravens and gray jays that seemed to be at every stop, accustomed as they are to handouts that seem to appear from every vehicle. We had occasion to see two grizzlies from a safe distance and as the day warmed, we joined all of our fellow travelers along roadsides to experience the scattered herds of American bison. They’re mighty impressive beasts and I can only imagine what 60-100 million might have looked like.

We left this amazing park shortly after lunch and continued our back-roads journey. We crossed several mountain passes that left no alternative to driving at a more measured speed. Ascending one pass in north-central Wyoming, the setting sun and smoke from a distant forest fire created dramatic views as we climbed to the summit. Progress was so smooth that we lulled ourselves into driving past sunset, again. In the dark, we discovered Burgess Junction, Wyoming, and a tidy café that was perfect for breakfast in the morning.

One of the keys to traveling cross country with a little time on your hands is to remain flexible. As chief navigator I found that I was always looking for alternate routes along the way. By choosing this road over that one, for instance, hidden secrets were discovered. That was the way we rolled through the Black Hills and into a beautiful little town I had never heard of before — Hot Springs, South Dakota. This small town basically wraps itself around and along the small river that flows through it. Had we taken the easy road, we would have missed this gem. To say that this little town is charming would be a blatant understatement.

As we progressed east by southeast, we discovered more memorable places along the way. One of our trip highlights came at Cottonwood Lake, in northwestern Nebraska. After a good day of driving we decided to take time to cook a nice meal and enjoy the outdoors as day turned into night. As the light faded, we heard a distinctive sound coming from across the lake, which I knew to be a juvenile great horned owl. I began a dialogue with the bird and after a short while, it was perched just above our picnic table, where it stayed for some time before flying silently away.

After a great night’s sleep, it was time for another early walk with hot coffee in hand. Sunrise has always been a special time of day for me and this day provided a spectacular rendition. With mist rising from the lake surface, the only sound to break the tranquility was the sound of waking birds and the occasional jumping fish. When an osprey flew in to perch above the lake, I knew that something else had discovered the beauty of this place before we had. Large flocks of red-winged blackbirds were on the move, as well.

We left this idyllic campground, knowing that it was time to get serious about getting down the road. We had traversed most of the open spaces of the Wild West and we would soon begin to encounter increasingly larger pockets of civilization. We traveled for the next three days through the almost nondescript heartland of America, through Nebraska and Kansas and into Missouri, where we stopped to visit an old friend. Therein lies another benefit of traveling on the road instead of high above it – you get to visit friends along the way. Another friend awaited our arrival in east Texas.

At the end of our eighth day on the road, we stopped for a week to spend time with my 93-year-old mother in her home. After all the spectacular sights and sounds we had experienced, this was the beginning of an emotional week in the house where I was born. It was good to stop for a while. My quiet morning coffee on the old porch swing that my dad built was crowded with a lifetime of reflection. My thoughts were punctuated by the sounds of the birds of my youth — blue jays, mockingbirds, and mourning doves. §

Our intrepid travelers return to the road for the long journey home, via the Texas coast, the Davis Mountains of west Texas, and the basin and range country of Utah, Nevada and eastern Oregon.