lapacifidora | I suppose better late than never (Reply)

I've been home for more than a week now (having returned home just in time for my one friend to leave for a completely different city and my other friend to be busy with her new job - and my other other friend to be busy with her regular job and the end of an apprenticeship).

And I've decided that I expended the effort to make notes on the trip home, I'm going to go ahead and write about it. Besides, I took pictures.

We left Washington on Wednesday, Aug. 11, around 1 p.m. The preceeding week, we'd been staying with my brother and his wife. They live in theIssaquah (Iz-a-kwah) Highlands, which is this fancy pants development that looks like several different areas in Britain, all smushed together with an occassional Starbucks.

We stopped at Southcenter, which is so much bigger now than it was when I was growing up. It looks practically nothing like what it used to. But someone wanted to stop atMade In Washington again to pick up a few things from Glass Eye Studios as 'thank you's to the neighbors who were watching the house.

A few hours later, I saw sedan with a black license plate with white writing and the letters "AFI" at the top. I Googled it, and all I could find was that it was something to do with 'Armed Forces in Italy.' It was rather strange, actually.

Around 3 p.m., we stopped at the Golden Harvest in Vantage again for lunch. This time I had a grilled ham and cheese, but the fries were just as good as they were on the way into the state. We drove down the road to Ginko State Park. Or, formally, Ginkgo Petrified Forest State Park.

Now, of course, Vantage is named as such because it's right by the bridge cross the Columbia River. But, I've always felt you get a better view from the state park.

There are also petroglyphs at the Ginkgo Park:

We ended up chatting with the Park Aide - she's not a regular park ranger - and when she found out I was still a recent university graduate, she mentioned the problems she's had with student loans and health care costs, particularly as a non-traditional student. I have to admit, I felt a little like Toby when he talks to the guy in the bar in, what's it, "20 Hours in America." I'll try to keep the politics out of this, but how people still can't believe that we need education and health care reform when women like this one are out there, working full time, going to school full time, raising a family, all of that stuff - I don't get it. I really don't.

We headed on to Wallace, ID, and stayed at the Wallace Inn. Strangely enough, we discovered the next morning that the gift shop (which kept me entertained for years as we'd pass through on our way there and on the way back) closed. No more insanely high-priced tchotchkes. However, I had a massive pancake and a gigantic sausage link for breakfast. Both of which I drenched in maple syrup.
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I finally remembered to switch my watch - and the car's clock - over to mountain time around 11 a.m. (I kind of hate driving east because you lose time. And for someone who's so often late, it's terribly annoying.)

We stopped in Missoula, Mont., again for gas. And, because it had stuck in our heads for the last four years, we went to Southgate Mall to try and find this cafe place again. And we did: Caffe Dolce. Why did a frou frou cafe stick in our heads? Because they carry Dolce tableware, which is fab.

Around 4 p.m., we stopped in Butte for a snack at Great Harvest Bread Co. - a lemon bar and a soda for me, a wildberry bar and a mocha for mum. And then I felt ridiculous when I checked their website and realized that there's a location about a half hour away from home.

We got to Bozeman around 6 p.m., where we stayed at the GranTree Inn. I kind of wanted to go to The Garage, which was the restaurant that first gave me the idea for The French Fry scale.

(For those not familiar with my French Fry scale, it is this: I judge a restaurant on it's french fries, on a scale of 1 to 10, as I figure if a restaurant can't get fried potatoes right, the rest of the food probably isn't great. In light of not every restaurant serving fries, I have expanded it to include pasta, rice and - bear with me - tortilla chips. Those are all basic foods, intrinsic to certain cultures: If an ethnic place - or even a general place that claims they have great (whatever) food - can't get a staple of a culture's diet right, the rest of the food will probably suck.)

But we decided to go to the hotel restaurant, instead: The Club Tavern & Grill. I had a french dip sandwich the size of my head, with sweet potato fries (yum!).

However, for the second week in a row, I once again missed the "Community" rerun. Damn changes in time zones. :|
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Next: Dinosaurs! Badlands! Crapshacks!