Road Trip

One weekend the guys decided we should take a road trip.  We scraped together what little cash we had and started driving east.  It didn’t take long to get to Spokane, but we didn’t stop until we reached Coeur de Lane.  While filling the gas tank and our stomachs our plan was discussed and settled.  Tom wanted to go to the  Montana State line to establish contact with the land of my birth.  It didn’t. sound all that profound of a reason, but we were on a road trip and it didn’t have to be logical.

We drove into Wallace, Idaho as the sun was slipping behind the steep mountains that ringed the old mining town.  It looked like this would have to be our over night stop so a search for the least expensive lodging began.  We were lucky and put money down on a single large room with two beds and a rollaway plus the couch.  Of course we had an extensive discussion about who got which bed.  With that settled we left for a dinner search.  Wallace was a historic boom town back in busy mining days.  The town looked tired and run down now.  Most of the central business district closed early and “rolled up the streets” as Dewey put it.  We drove down along the highway through town and found several fast food places open, one with a nice dining area looked fairly clean.  We found the food satisfying and enjoyed people watching.

Tom informed us that Wallace was famous for its red light district.  The suggestion was that we take in some of the local color before we tried our new beds.  There was some common sense in the group that reminded us we didn’t have money or desire to get involved in that business, but it wouldn’t hurt to look a little.  On that note we took a walking tour through the area of ill repute.  It was sad but interesting at the same time.  I had never experienced such an open display of histories second oldest businesses.  When asked what business was older, Tom replied, “picking apples”.  We headed back to our room lamenting the fact that squeaky clean civilizations didn’t exist any longer as if they ever had.

Our plan was to drive to Lookout Pass in the morning, step across the Montana State line and then return to Cheney, no matter how late it got.  We needed a good nights sleep to accomplish that task tomorrow.  The beds surprised us, but those on the couch and roll away did some grumbling.  I guess they finally got to sleep.

It was dark when Tom pulled off the highway and headed up the hill toward Sutton Hall.  Everyone had been quiet the last miles.  There had been so much talk, silence was welcome.  Each of us was mentally reviewing our road trip and the fun we had experienced with each other.  A strong bond was formed that would last the rest of our lives.

*Taken from "Which Road Should I Follow?, Volume 1, Growing up in the country", an autobiography by Edwin K. Hill.