We left Indianapolis with no particular destination in mind, just as far as we could get in Wisconsin in one day. I was in particularly good spirits, determined not to let my occasional homesickness get in the way of the present. Time will pass nonetheless. I better enjoy every minute.

This spirit held up until we hit Chicago and got stuck in two hours of traffic. In the rain. Having to pee like never before. It was miserable. Despite having fantasized about a few ways I might be able to relieve myself in the car without getting caught, I couldn’t go through with it and pulled over to a grocery store.

By the time we made it to Tomah, Wisconsin, my caffeine buzz was gone and huge clouds were rolling in.


Hurricane? Tornado?

As I checked into our hotel, it started pouring fiercely. The clerk said a town 20 minutes away had quarter sized hail and we should brace ourselves. While that never came to pass, the skies never really brightened until the next day.

We headed out bright and early for North Dakota. I was coveting a cheese store across the road and couldn’t believe my good fortune when they were open at 8:30 a.m. Wisconsin is not only a very pretty state, it has entire stores devoted to cheese! That’s awesome.

Love me some cheese store!

I perused the aisles and settled on some cheese curds, a garlic beef stick, and some caramel pecan clusters called “Snappers.”


Decisions, decisions...



The winner!

Loren gratefully accepted my offers of the first two, which sustained us until we made it to St. Paul, the skyline poking out in the distance, becoming clearer as we came to our off ramp to the Tavern on Grand.


St. Paul, MN

What a neat city. Lots of mature landscaping, brick, iron, and a really nice college town feel, which I’ve come to realize, is my favorite type of city (like Asheville). I found a shady spot for Loren and headed to the tavern across the street.


Tavern on Grand, St. Paul

Of course, I had to order the pike, as their logo says “Minnesota‘s State Restaurant Serving Minnesota‘s State Fish.”

As I ordered it, I asked the waiter a question.

“If this is Minnesota’s state fish, why do you import yours from Canada?” I pointed to the menu where it listed this information.

He smiled. “The fish from Canada is consistent in size and quality. We can’t say that about the fish from our lakes, unfortunately,” he said. “We serve the most pike of anywhere in the country. Something like 2/3 of the pike caught is sold right here.”

“Wow,” I responded.

The waiter recommended the pike grilled (it also comes fried or blackened) and I wasn’t disappointed. The flaky, delicate fish was moist and clean-tasting, lightly spiced, and enhanced with a good dollop of Bernaise sauce. Rich and buttery. Accompanied by simple grilled potatoes and vegetables, it was one of the best meals of the trip.


Pike, glorious pike, at the Tavern on Grand

Feeling better about the world, we barreled on to Fargo, North Dakota and stopped at a hotel. They said they were booked and I was glad to have a reason to leave. It felt weird, all that open space, that nothingness, filled in with big box stores and restaurant chains. People were lingering about the hotel, smoking. The whole scene said tweaker to me. We moved on.

About 50 miles later, though I was still amped on too many Arnold Palmers, I came to my senses and found us a place to stay. I know that weird state of thinking you can drive forever - I once made it from Portland, Oregon to home in one day, driving close to a thousand miles, and felt like I was hallucinating over the last three hours. Better safe than sorry.

The Super 8 at sunset - Jamestown, ND

The only room available had a Jacuzzi, so I ponied up an extra few bucks and took it. It felt like kind of a waste on just me, but I enjoyed relaxing in the nice hot bubbles before calling it a night.


"Enjoy the Jacuzzi...I'll just hang here..."

Loren seemed to love me again. It took a little coaxing to get her on the bed, but she jumped up, stretching out, letting me rub her belly until I heard her snore and drifted off myself. Slept like babies.

Driving from Jamestown to Billings was a challenge, especially without a Starbucks in sight, but we did it. Wide open spaces. For hours and hours. Huge sky. Massive clouds. It was pretty, in its own way, but not very stimulating. Thank God for the books on tape that I had picked up near Tomah. I don’t know how else we would have made it through.

Of course, there’s also the exciting side trips, like seeing “Elsie” the world’s largest Holstein cow, looming over a small town. The entrance gate was deserted, so we drove up the gravelly hill to see her up close. She was a big girl.

Elsie & the Toyota


"Not sure I like the big cow...let's go!"

Hungry, I consulted Gidget and we ended up in Ulin, which was three miles off the highway. It was almost a ghost town, save the few cars and people in Annie’s Place, a little restaurant that seemed to have all the post-church action. These were farm folk, plainly dressed, drinking gallons of coffee and enjoying a chat. They stared at me when I walked in, like I was an alien of some sort, which I probably was. I imagine they don’t get too many visitors.


Hello? Is there anyone home? Ulin, ND

I had placed an order for roasted chicken, took Loren for a walk, and when I came back it still wasn’t ready - they hadn‘t even started it. “Forget it,” I told the cook/cashier/owner, who seemed grateful that I cancelled. The smell of grease lingered on me for at least an hour in the truck. I found a Subway later on down the road, which was unusually satisfying, in a familiar, comforting way.

The landscape changed towards the Montana border as we passed the off ramp for the Theodore Roosevelt State park. It was beginning to look more like New Mexico and Arizona, the flat, leveled-off mountains in a kaleidescope of colors - red, green, beige, even purple. It made my eyes happy. Little patches of water began to appear, too. Now it felt like we were heading West and home. The time zone changed, too, as did the atmosphere - no more humidity. Yeah!


Montana...



We stayed in Billings the first night, leaving the next morning for Missoula, but had to stop for an oil change at Corridor Automotive first.

It seemed we found the most dog friendly service station around. Loren was warmly greeted with pets, smiles, and enthusiasm.

“We love dogs here,” Tom, the manager, said. “I have five myself, all rescues.”

“I get all my dogs from the Prison PAWS program,” John, the owner, said.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“They pair shelter dogs with women prisoners, who train them before they go into homes,” he replied.

“I love that,” I said. “What a great idea.”

“Yeah, it gives the prisoners something to do, something to care for and be compassionate about,” John said. “And the dogs that come out of there are fantastic, really well-trained.”

I took Loren around the block for 20 minutes while my car was worked on. The area was rife with rundown rentals and industrial buildings. We headed back to the shop, where Loren was presented with a bowl of water and some dog biscuits.

Tom’s wife Darlynn, a mail carrier, came in and saw my truck. “Think you have enough paw prints on there?” she asked, laughing.

When I explained what we were doing, she smiled brightly.

“I fought against the breed specific legislation they were trying to pass here a few years back,” she said. “I told them, as a mail carrier, that I had way more problems with poodles than pit bulls.”

“Did it pass?” I asked.

“Nope,” she said proudly.

“Right on,” I said.

Loren seemed quite at home at the shop, sniffing around, very curious, greeting everyone that came in.

“I think she wants to be your shop dog,” I told the guys.

They laughed and were happy to take a picture with her for our blog.

"Call me Shop Dog!"

On the way to Missoula, we stopped in Bozeman, another little college town with great restaurants and stores lining the streets. I spotted a patio adjacent to a funky little diner and pulled over to ask if they took dogs. They did, so Loren and I had lunch at the Garage Soup Shack.


"Another day, another patio..."

Considering the name, I had to order the soup - a rich, not-too-thick bowl of delicious clam chowder that had a little kick, along with a refreshing spring mix salad and a tasty grilled cheese with tomato and bacon sandwich. I snapped off the bacon ends and gave them to Loren, who, as usual, made herself right at home on the patio, charming the waitress and thwacking her tail like crazy whenever someone came near her.


Soup Shack Special

Snow-capped mountains begin to peak through the clouds and my heart lifted. I love that sight. It was cold, too, in the 50s and 60s, depending on whether or not you were in the sun, but I didn’t mind. Better than the heat.

After the 350 mile journey, we were happy to see our hotel in Missoula. There was a dog show going on, so we couldn’t have a first floor room - they were overrun with dogs and their owners! So, we went up to the third floor, Loren totally cool with both the stairs and the elevator.

As we went on our last walk of the night, a minivan with a traveling kennel towed behind it pulled up. There were five small compartments, each containing a spaniel of some kind, their people getting out to take them for a walk before checking in.

It struck me. The shelter dog was traveling in higher style than the show dogs. Funny.

 TOTALLY RANDOM PHOTO:

Gas station in North Dakota...or Montana...I can't remember anymore...

Is it me or is this a funny name for a gas station? Second only to the "Fit n Fahrt" - which cracked my dad & I up when we were in Germany.