From the Back Cover
The road southeast from Grand Coulee Dam runs through barren, desert-like country. Not what most people would associate with Washington state, known for evergreen forests and endless rain, but actually typical for east of the mountains. Further south, irrigation kicks in again, and the land is golden with wheat. It looks like cat fur. Linnet, one of the two cats I left with my friend Trish for the duration, is the color commonly described as orange, and he's the exact shade of these tawny rolling hills. I want to reach out and pet the landscape.
Rolling hills have another use as well. They're darned fun to drive on.
The car is fully loaded, of course, and being a small compact with a commensurately-sized engine, doesn't have a whole lot of get-up-and-go, but I still manage to maintain some momentum on the upsides of the hills, and to swoop over the tops and down.
I slip a tape into the machine and sing over the empty hillsides. It's almost disappointing when I reach the interstate again.
Through Spokane, which used to be my nearest big city when I lived in Montana, and a stop for a quick lunch and gas. Then over the border into Idaho.
Goodbye, Washington. See you in three months.
About the Author
She holds degrees in British and American literature and history and library science, and a certificate in museum studies. In her other life, she works as an independent museum curator, and finds museums a great source of adventures of all kinds.