Places to Go and People to See!

by Pa Rock
Eternal Tourist

One of my retirement goals was to travel more, and with the exception of this, the Year of the Plague, I have managed to make at least a couple of trips a year that require getting on a plane and flying somewhere.  But this year, of course, things have been different.  In fact, since the news of the pandemic broke in early March, the only traveling that I have done is to visit doctors located in various cities in south-central Missouri and north-central Arkansas.  Springfield, Missouri, one hundred miles to the east, is the farthest that I have been from my little farm since Donald Trump made his famous prediction that the plague would run its course in a couple of weeks.

I always try to go to Oregon to see my grandchildren at least twice I year.  I fly into Portland, one of the finest cities in America, where I rent a car and then drive the sixty or so miles to Salem, the state's capital, where my grandchildren and their parents live.    I am usually in Salem two or three nights and then drive back to Portland and spend one additional night there before getting on a plane and coming back home.  The flight from Kansas City to Portland - and back - covers basically an old wagon route that was once known as "The Oregon Trail."

I quit my day job at Luke Air Force Base near Phoenix at the beginning of March in 2014 and moved to my little farm in the Ozarks.  I had bought the house and small acreage the summer before, and it had been sitting empty ever since and was sorely in need of some tender loving care.  During the first few months that I was there I managed to get unpacked, organize my life around what was occurring in my new community, and get in an order for a few dozen baby chicks.  

In May my grandson, Boone - who had just completed his freshman year at the local high school - and I got in my car and went on a long road trip to see his cousins in Oregon.  We had a grand time and saw many of the sights that his Dad had seen when our family took a similar trip in the mid-1980's.  We visited a music museum at a college in South Dakota, and also saw other attractions in that state including the Corn Palace, Wall Drug, and the Badlands, Mount Rushmore. and even walked the streets of Deadwood.  We also drove through Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming,  and saw much of the Columbia River ("Roll On Columbia, Roll On") while driving across northern Oregon.  At one point we crossed the Columbia and drove into the state of Washington just to say we had been there.

On the way home we drove along the Oregon Pacific coast, had a nice meal at a seaside cafe, drove into the California Redwoods and on through Bigfoot country of north-central California.  We also saw Reno, Nevada - the Biggest Little City in the World - and drove along the Bonneville Salt Flats.  Eventually we made our way back to Kansas City and then home to West Plains, successfully concluding a road trip of nearly three weeks.

And from then on when I got the bug to go see my grandchildren in Oregon, I always flew!

In addition to those regular trips to Oregon, I have also visited Cuba (a week in 2016), Alaska (a cruise in 2017), and Hawaii (a vacation in 2108), as well as several trips to beautiful San Diego where I go occasionally to catch up with my very active Aunt Mary - who, although in her mid-nineties - still drives herself throughout all of the hustle-bustle traffic of Southern California.

This past spring my sister, cousin, and I were planning a family-reunion type of trip to Nantucket, Massachusetts, a place where several of our ancestors once lived, but that event had to be cancelled due to the pandemic.

My last notable trip anywhere was a year ago this month when I flew to Oregon for a visit with the grandchildren, and then flew from there to San Diego where I reconnected with my friend Valerie who lives and works in Hawaii, and also with Aunt Mary and her beautiful blonde California daughters, Janet and Linda.  Little did I realize when I got off of that plane from San Diego to Kansas City that it would be God-knows-when before I would be able to get back on another!

And so I sit in West Plains, Missouri, staring out my front window as the birds flit through the feeders and the dead leaves blow across the landscape foretelling of the coming winter, with no hope of going anywhere soon.   I will not get back on a plane until the pandemic is under control, and several of my doctors have told me that will be at least another full year away.

But I hate being a victim of restricted travel, and lately I have found myself daydreaming about making another road trip to Oregon - maybe in the spring, or early summer after most of the snow in the Rockies has melted.  This time Rosie can be my co-pilot - she loves long drives in the car, and God knows what she could find to chase in Yellowstone or Glacier Park!  

We'll see what the future brings - but it is unlikely that I will just sit at home and watch the world blow by for another year.

Pa Rock has places to go and people to see!