- 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.
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.
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:
