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.

Ted Nugent for President

With my house in the rearview mirror, my friends and I started our journey west. The draw to the Pacific Coast is one that I have experienced since I learned to read. Some of my favorite spunky female heroines wanted to travel towards California—seeking fame and fortune in a part of America different from their own.

I like my home and my family. We don’t argue often and we live comfortably. My youthful desire to journey west didn’t stem from wanting to get away from my life in the Midwest. Rather, I was disappointed in the flat land of Illinois. What is there to see when you can actually see for miles? Sure, Chicago isn’t that far; but gas is expensive and the cost of a train ticket has gone up. I can only see the Bean so many times before my own reflection gets ridiculously boring. Long story short—I wanted an adventure.

This summer provided me with a unique opportunity to make my dreams come true. I needed one more class to finish up my English credits. I had no job for the summer, and a little bit saved up from working during the semester. I asked a few friends to tag along, because an adventure is nothing without the right travel companions.  Jessica, Rachel, and—eventually—Nick will, I am sure, be a large part of these journal entries. Their observations, as well as my own, will become a large part of how I read literature that relates to my own personal journey. Perhaps I should tell you more about them:

Jessica is spunky. I value her opinions greatly; her ability to be open to new experiences inspired me to finally take this trip.

Rachel is the more reserved of our group. She is an organized history buff with a quick wit—something I have deemed necessary in my friends over the years.

Nick, who will be joining us in Seattle, is a red-headed gentleman. After extensive training from his female friends, he now knows how important it is to hold open doors for girls. Nick’s kindness makes him perfect for his almost inevitable role as the mediator in our group.

Out trip started around 4:30 a.m. this morning and our first day officially ends as we reach a hotel near Mount Rushmore in South Dakota. Most of today was spent driving through Iowa, which is a state that truly surprised me. I have never really been anywhere west of Illinois before today. Family vacations were spent in Florida, Michigan, or Wisconsin. Iowa, which I thought was firmly in the grasp of the flat, boring Midwest, is actually quite hilly! The dips and curves of the land are much different from what I see at home. But that’s not the only adjustment I’ve had to make.

The drivers in Iowa are crazy follow all of the rules. In Illinois, the left lane of a highway being the “passing lane” is simply a legend passed down from our elders. People in Iowa actually abide by this rule. Basically all of the time. I'm still stunned. Their willingness to stick to the rules and the fact that they are not in a rush to get anywhere says something about the priorities of the people in Iowa, I think. All I know is, the roads would never be this empty in Joliet.

(This was taken at a rest stop in Iowa, around 7 in the morning.)

Oh! I almost forgot. Bumper stickers don’t lie-- Ted Nugent would make a pretty rad president.

-- Caitlin