Seattle to Montana

I rejoined my brother Joe and my car in Seattle on Wednesday, November 17th.  I took the train from the airport to Joe's office downtown.  I arrived around 5:30, just as the workday ended.  Joe and his coworkers have been spending a lot of their after-work hours building a small bouldering wall at one end of the office space, and finally finished it just a few weeks ago.  Now they spend a little time at the end of each workday trying different climbing routes and working on their skills.  Here's a picture of Joe trying a particularly difficult move:

After two more days in Seattle, it was time for me to start driving east again.  The season's first snow storm was on its way, so early Saturday morning I loaded up my car and hit the road again.  I hit snow just an hour east of Seattle, and it followed me all across Washington and Idaho and into Montana.  For once I stayed with the interstate highways and didn't take any detours.  The snow was thick and heavy, so I couldn't see much of the scenery as I left the Cascades behind.  I'll have to come back someday to visit eastern Washington and Idaho. 

Coming into Montana I left the interstate and turned south to go stay a few days with some family friends in the area.  The less-plowed smaller roads gave me a chance to really test my car's snow driving skills, so I slammed on the brakes a few times to see how badly I would skid.  Something was wrong!  My brakes would shudder and clunk and kick  in a regular pattern as the car slowed down, then eventually settle down as I came to a stop.  But I didn't slide out or skid very much.  Figuring that perhaps a caliper was stuck or something, I drove the rest of the way more cautiously.  After dinner with George and Linda, my  Montana hosts, I called my car mechanic.  Mom answered, then at the mention of car brakes, passed the phone to Dad.  Halfway through my description of the strange brake behavior, Dad started laughing.  He said that I was feeling the anti-lock brakes!   This is the first car I've ever owned that has anti-lock brakes, and I didn't know what to expect!

The next day I woke up to six inches of fresh snow.  George found a pair of cross country skis in the garage that fit me, so he and I went skiing for the afternoon.  Here's a picture of George: 

It was still a few days until Thanksgiving, but the snow in the trees looked more like something from a Christmas movie!  Here I am, hopping through the powder on my skis:

The exercise and the beautiful scenery were a great change from the previous long day in the car.  It was also great to meet George and Linda, who I had only known as characters in the stories my parents told from the days before my brothers and I were born.  They told me some new stories, and had a photo on their wall of Mom and George running the Grandfather Mountain marathon in their 70's clothes!  What a great picture! 

The next day I packed up early and hit the road again.  The next snowstorm was on its way, and I had to change my driving route to avoid it.  Instead of heading straight south from Missoula, MT towards Yellowstone and Jackson Hole, I would go east to Billing, MT then head south through eastern Wyoming, avoiding high mountain passes and small, windy roads.  But first, I had to pass over the Continental Divide again, this time heading east:

Crossing it means that it's all downhill (more or less) from here to the Atlantic Ocean!  After a long day of out-running the snowstorm I spent a cold but clear night in Sheridan, Wyoming.  With the overnight low around -5F, I opted for a hotel.  Early the next day I was up again, warming my car up for the drive to Laramie, WY.