Day 2…On the road…Made it to Evanston, Wyoming…

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Interesting rock formations as we neared Wyoming.

We are on the road again today, leaving Boise, Idaho, behind us under a pale morning sky that seems to understand exactly how we are feeling. There is something about beginning a long drive when one of us is unwell that changes everything. The excitement softens, the sense of adventure dulls, and all that really matters is getting safely to the next stop.

Unfortunately, Tom is very sick. Somewhere along the way, he picked up the same virus I brought with me from the ship almost two weeks ago. It feels unfair, like a lingering souvenir neither of us wanted. He is exhausted, achy, and coughing in that deep, persistent way that makes it impossible to rest. I remember those first few days all too well, and watching him go through it now tugs at my heart.

I offered to drive, more than once, but he insists on staying behind the wheel. There is a certain determination in him, even when he feels awful, that I both admire and worry about. I keep a close eye on him, listening between the stretches of road for any change in his breathing or energy. We still have two long days ahead of us before we reach Minnesota, and it feels longer now than it did when we first mapped it out.

With that in mind, we made the decision, much to our mutual disappointment, to skip Yellowstone this time. We had talked about it with such anticipation, imagining the wide open landscapes, the wildlife, and the wonder of it all. But the reality of traffic, higher elevation, unpredictable weather, and longer driving hours doesn’t change how things are today. It was the right choice, even if I didn’t like it when we said it out loud.

Snow-capped mountains in Utah.

There is comfort, though, in knowing this isn’t an opportunity forever. Next year, after our four back-to-back Azamara cruises, we will make this same drive again from Vancouver to Minnesota. Yellowstone will wait for us. It will be there, unchanged in its grandeur, ready for a time when we can fully appreciate it.

Right now, our only goal is simple. Get to Minnesota by Friday afternoon. Nothing more, nothing less.

Last night, we stayed at a relatively nice Best Western hotel in Boise. It was one of those places that feels welcoming the moment you walk in, even if you know you’re assured. We had dinner at a local spot, Wildwood Grill, and for a little while, everything felt almost normal. A good meal, a quiet table, and the familiar comfort of sitting across from each other at the end of a day.

But the night was long.

Sleep didn’t come easily for either of us. The room was filled with the sound of coughing, mine lingering but manageable, his constant and harsh. There is something especially difficult about being sick away from your own bed, your own space. I could hear the frustration in his breathing, the restlessness of a body that just couldn’t.

Yesterday morning, he started taking Tamiflu. It’s on. It’s those things you hold onto with cautious hope. Is it working? Would he feel worse without it? There’s an answer, only the wish that it will shorten the duration and ease the symptoms, even just a little.

As we’ve done so far, we’ve been listening to the Garage Logic episodes we missed while we were on the cruise. It feels oddly comforting, like catching up with familiar voices. Every so often, as we move deeper into more remote stretches, the signal fades and disappears altogether. The silence that follows is noticeable, but not unwelcome. It gives us space just to be, to watch the road, and to sit with our thoughts.

The road ahead in Idaho.

Today’s is more southerly, less scenic by most standards, but right now, beauty isn’t missed in landscapes. It’s me. It’s steady miles, in manageable traffic, and getting closer to where we need to be. I will try to take a few photos along the way, small glimpses to share with our dear readers, even if they don’t capture sweeping vistas.

More than anything, we are looking forward to Tom feeling better. To the day when the coughing stops, when sleep comes easily again, and when this stretch of the journey becomes just another story we tell.

We just checked into a hotel in Evanston, Wyoming, and soon will go to dinner at the hotel’s popular restaurant.

For now, we keep going.

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, May 13, 2016:

We did a double-take in Bali when we saw these two young guys walking their inner tube-type boats along the beach. Later, we saw them fishing from these tiny watercraft. For more photos, please click here.

We’re on the road..

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Our last dinner together with Rita and Gerhard at Wild Fin.
We are on the road at last, that familiar feeling settling in as the wheels begin to turn and the scenery slowly shifts from the known to the unknown. After four delightful days spent with our dear friends Rita and Gerhard, this morning came with a mix of gratitude and that tug that always accompanies a goodbye. They kindly drove us to the Enterprise location, though not without a bit of a challenge. What should have been a simple twenty-minute drive stretched into over an hour, thanks to the steady pulse of morning rush hour traffic. It felt like the road was reminding us that every journey begins in its own time.

Once we arrived, picked up our rental car, and loaded our bags, it was time to part ways. Hugs lingered just a little longer, smiles held a touch more meaning, and then, just like that, we were off. There is something about that first stretch of highway that always feels significant, as if the road itself is opening up to welcome us forward.

Our goal today is simple: reach Boise, Idaho, by dinner time. It feels both ambitious and entirely doable, the kind of goal that gives structure without pressure. We have yet to book a hotel for the night, something that might have once made us uneasy, but over time has become part of our rhythm. There is a certain freedom in waiting, in allowing the day to unfold before deciding where we will rest our heads. More often than not, those last-minute bookings turn out to be the best finds, both financially and unexpectedly charming.

As we began the drive through the beautiful Pacific Northwest.

About an hour into the drive, I will begin searching for a place to stay, ideally with a nearby restaurant where we can settle in after a long day and reflect on the miles behind us. Until then, we press on, committed to making only the necessary stops for fuel and a quick stretch. There is determination in that kind of travel, a shared understanding that the destination will be all the sweeter for the effort.

As the miles pass beneath us, I find myself reflecting on how much I love this part of the country. The Pacific Northwest has shown us its beauty in ways that feel almost generous. Towering evergreens, distant mountain ranges softened by mist, and rivers that wind alongside the road as if they, too, are traveling somewhere important. It is a landscape that invites you to slow down, even as you move forward.

What makes this journey even more meaningful is sharing it with Tom. He hasn’t traveled this route before, and there is a special kind of joy in watching someone you love experience something new, especially when it is a place you have come to appreciate so deeply. I find myself pointing out small details along the way, the changing colors of the hills, the way the light shifts as clouds drift overhead, and the subtle transitions that signal we are moving from one region to another.

And then, of course, there is what lies ahead. Yellowstone. Just thinking about it brings a sense of anticipation that is hard to put into words. The possibility of seeing bison roaming freely across vast open spaces, of watching while nature carries on uninterrupted, feels like a gift waiting to be unwrapped. The scenery there is said to be extraordinary, layered with textures and colors that shift with every turn.

Once again, the scenery was breathtaking.

If the Pacific Northwest has already left us in awe, it is hard to imagine what Yellowstone will bring. And yet, that is the beauty of travel. When you think you have seen something remarkable, the world gently reveals something even more breathtaking.

For now, we settle into the pace of the road. The hum of the tires, the occasional glance at the map on the rental car’s screen, and the quiet companionship that comes from sharing a journey like this. There is nowhere else we need to be, no rush beyond the one we set for ourselves. Just the open road, the promise of what lies ahead, and the simple joy of being right here, in the middle of it all.

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, May 12, 2016:

This bird appears to be a Blue Kingfisher. For more photos, please click here.