Also, I’ve never burned down the Silver Dollar Bar

(Please forgive this post. It’s late, I’m tired, and we drove for a long time today. Hopefully, this makes sense.)

We made it! After a long and terrifying drive, we have finally reached our hotel in Lacey, Washington.

As I mentioned yesterday, I was extremely afraid of the Rocky Mountains. Facing a new challenge was something I knew that I had to do, but that didn’t mean that I was excited about it. The first stretch of our mountain drive gave me a false sense of security. The mountains in Montana weren’t bad at all. There was a moment of terror at some point, but for the most part it was just a regular road.

Idaho was a different story. Even though our journey through this state was really short, the mountains were very difficult to drive through. They were almost everything that I thought driving the Rocky Mountains would be.

Even though it wasn’t without its trials, the Rocky Mountains were really beautiful. They were so huge and covered in trees. Rocks of all different colors, waterfalls visible from the road, and quaint towns nestled in valleys provided us with insight into why people bother to drive this risky road.

The fear and wonder that I felt in equal parts made me start to think about the permanency of things. Those mountains have been around for a very long time. The trees that grow on their hills have had decades to get as tall as they are. In comparison, I’m practically an infant.

We stopped for lunch at this fabulously tacky restaurant that had 50,000 Silver Dollars built into its bar. Part of the “fun facts” paper that the restaurant had on every table proclaimed that:  “The Silver Dollar Bar has never burned down. Ever.”

I guess the point of all of this is that your legacy is what you make it. The mountains will be there longer than any of us. No one can change that. The Silver Dollar Bar hasn’t ever burned down, and that’s something it can be proud of. Now I get to say that I have crossed the Rocky Mountains and lived to tell the tale.

Palm Reading and Panic Attacks

Today was pretty busy. We woke up, filled the cooler with ice, and took off for Mount Rushmore. I’m not going to lie, I was pretty excited. Mostly because Jessica had “Eenie Meenie Miney Mo Lover” stuck in her head and I couldn’t wait for her to stop humming it. That Beiber kid is really annoying, but he sure knows how to write a catchy song.

Seeing the sculpture of the presidents was a lot of fun. We spent more time looking through the souvenir shops for the tackiest thing we could find, though.

When we left Keystone, we decided to stop somewhere in Montana. First, we had to drive through Wyoming. The beauty of these states is undeniable—but after hours and hours of driving, it loses some of its charm. I wonder if all of the people who travel west feel this way after a while. The hills and valleys eventually start to look the same; there are very few towns and almost no other cars on the road-- even during rush hour.

We filled the time in the car reading Jessica’s palmistry book. It was totally safe. I drive with one hand all the time, and there is nothing that I could possibly have hit on the pink highways of Wyoming or Montana. Seriously. There is nothing out there.

Turns out, I’m going to live a long life. Also, I have about 500 stress lines and I’m ridiculously selfish—neither thing was exactly “news,” but I think it was worth mentioning.

Hearing from a Barnes and Noble text about my potentially long life wasn’t as comforting as I expected it to be. For tomorrow— we face The Demon. Most people would know it as The Rocky Mountains. All I can picture are the drives that cartoon characters take: extremely narrow roads with no protection from the edge, steep hills, and rock falls. I wouldn’t be surprised if a moose jumped out in front of me.

So, as usual, I am terrified. The whole point of this trip was to do things I had never done before. I wanted an adventure. But instead of picturing what I’m going to encounter on the other side, I’m busy worrying about little details. Granted, this little detail is a humongous pile of rocks and trees and ice.

I think this could end up being an important lesson for me. If I can get past this mountain and conquer my fears, I can continue on my journey. And isn’t life all about overcoming obstacles?

Wish me luck.