Sweet Home Chicago...

Well, Kate and I have made it home. Safe and sound and almost all rested up. Several years ago, we did New Years Eve in Times Square. Kate came away from that vacation saying, "That was the best vacation I'll never take again." The Cruise of the Mother Road has joined those ranks. It was a great trip. Each day was a new adventure. But after those last three days of driving, I really do love to fly. And it shows.

On Saturday, we left Cedar City, UT and headed toward Colorado. Utah was exceptionally beautiful. I am sad that we didn't get to take in the national parks there. The landscape was always changing. It seemed we would go from desert to mountain in ten miles. We saw a sign that said, "No services for 110 miles". They were not joking. There was nothing but untouched beauty out there.

We were very grateful when we did a googlemaps search (thank you Blackberry!) and found that Grand Junction, CO did in fact have a Chic-fil-a. It was Saturday, so we knew it would be our last time to indulge in the wonder that is Chic-fil-a.

Then, we made the great trek up the Rockies. I will say this about Clark, he does not like the West. He started making a funny noise at the beach. We did have it looked at and they weren't concerned--because of course, he did not make the noise while the guy drove it. Clark worked hard to get through those mountains, so we gave him a rest Denver. And he has not made the noise since.

In Colorado, we made a stop in Central City. Central City is an old mining town. I spent many days in that town as a kid while visiting my dad. So, we made a short detour. We bought a piece of fudge and it was delicious. Then, we headed to Denver where we met up with our Aunt Marianne--or as we more fondly call her, Aunt Marsey--and Uncle Rog. It has just been within the last year that we have been able to reconnect with her. It was so wonderful to see her again...two times in less than a year! That's a record. We didn't stay for long though. We got back on the road to get a few more driving hours in to lessen our drive on Sunday.

Every motel, inn, hotel in North Platte is booked on a Saturday night in North Platte. I called everything my phone would bring up. We finally found a room in Ogalalla. We missed the Wigwam, and that's all I have to say about that experience.

On Sunday, we woke up in a haze just to get on the road again. I don't think we spoke much until we found a Starbucks in North Platte. We pressed on, only stopping every 300 miles. All we could think about was home and that kept us going. Our only adventure on Sunday took place about 150 miles outside of Chicago. We were driving behind an SUV pulling an old '38 Buick. When suddenly the ball came loose and the trailer began to swerve erratically over the road. At one point it nearly flipped the SUV over. Finally the trailer separated from the SUV. It spun through the air, did several rolls before landing in a deep ditch. It looked like a moment on Destroyed in Seconds (the coolest show on the Discovery Channel). Kate and I sat in silence as we watched it unfold. We are very fortunate that we were in the left lane far enough back that nothing hit us. AND no one was behind us when I slammed on the brakes. Amazingly, no one came around the corner until the SUV and Clark were safely on the side of the road. No one was hurt, only the Buick. God has been very good. He's kept us safe from LA driving all the way to runaway Buicks.

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