Friday, February 28, 2014

An American Journey: Westbound (Part 2)

…Continued from Westbound.

The next morning, I watched The Weather Channel for a while before checking out of the motel, hoping to determine what I'd run into in the mountains of Montana, but it wasn't much help.  It did however, show that the routes through southern Wyoming and Colorado had been hit hard with snow, so it seemed my route was the best choice, at least. Watching The Weather Channel had delayed my departure from Gillette, and it was almost 11:00 when I bought gas at The Rock Stop in Sheridan.

The Bighorn Mountains in Wyoming on December 21, 2003
The Bighorn Mountains in Wyoming

I traveled through eastern Montana without incident.  It wasn't until I approached Homestake Pass that things got interesting again.

The Beartooth Mountains (I think) in Montana on December 21, 2003
Beartooth Mountains (I think) in Montana
 
Driving toward the mountains in Montana on December 21, 2003
Driving toward the mountains in Montana 

Homestake Pass, located just east of Butte, Montana, is I-90's pass through the Rocky Mountains.  The pass crests the mountains at an elevation of 6,375 feet.  It is also the crossing of the Continental Divide.  It surprisingly does not look that imposing from the east, though it is significant.  I had passed through Bozeman, about 80 miles east of Butte, with what I thought was plenty of gas.  However, as I climbed Homestake Pass, my Low Fuel light came on.  Not knowing how far I could go with the light on, I began to imagine running out of gas as I neared the top of the pass.  Fortunately, that didn't happen.  I crested the pass and coasted down the other side into Butte, using as little fuel as possible.  I filled my tank in Butte, putting just over 15 gallons of gas into the Dynasty's 16 gallon tank.  This experience did finally give me an indication of the car's range, however; I had gone over 350 miles on that tank.

It was nearly 4:00 when I arrived in Butte, so I had dinner there.  While in Butte, snow started to fall.  It wasn't quite sticking, but I knew I had another pass yet to cross.  I decided this was a good a place as any to buy tire chains.  A gas station pointed me toward a Wal-Mart, where I bought some fairly cheap cable chains, just in case.  They cost $24.82. The search for tire chains made it well after 5:00, and getting dark, before I left Butte.  Snow was falling, but not heavily.  I discovered that rest areas in Montana had speakers installed playing the National Weather Service radio broadcasts, which helped a little. Thanks to Mountain Dew, I wasn't tired as I passed through Missoula, and I kept on toward what would be the most treacherous part of the trip: Lookout Pass.

Lookout Pass is not as high a pass as Homestake Pass.  It is only 4,725 feet high, between the Coeur D'Alene and Bitterroot Mountains.  However, while I had crossed Homestake in daylight with fairly good weather, I faced Lookout in the dark, and in a snowstorm.  Lookout, while not as high as Homestake, does seem to be steeper climb.  As I climbed, my headlights, covered with winter dirt and dust, were barely of use, and I found myself following the taillights of a Jeep Cherokee in front of me.  It had no vehicles ahead of it, so it could use its highbeams/foglights to cut through the weather, which was a help.  The Cherokee's better vision made its driver more confident than me though, and I occasionally found myself going a little faster than I really wanted to in order to keep up with the tail lights I was depending on.

Climbing toward the pass, the highway narrowed to one lane in each direction, a wall of snow filling the other.  The pass was open, but only one lane was plowed each way.  I passed a chain-up area without stopping.  No one else was in it, and I really didn't want to stop in these conditions.  After cresting the pass, which is on the Montana-Idaho border, everything quickly cleared.  As I sailed down toward Coeur D'Alene, I listened to a cassette of 1950s & 60s surfing music.  Oddly, it just seemed appropriate.

I passed through Coeur D'Alene, stopping only at a rest area (where it was so cold the sidewalks had all iced over, making them incredibly slick and forcing me to walk in the frosty grass), and into Washington.  I considered spending the night in Spokane, but I wasn't tired yet, and now being in Washington, I felt I was too close to stop now.  So, I continued on.  Not far out of Spokane, however, the fog began to set in, and I began to feel tired.  I came across a rest area, and pulled in for a nap.

After a short nap in the rest area, I realized that being back in Washington, the rest area might have free hot drinks.  Sure enough, it did.  I wasn't in the mood for coffee, and had a hot chocolate instead.  The chocolate and sugar made me ready to plunge back into the fog.

I was getting low on gas, and decided to start searching for a station.  The first one I found had closed down for the night, though it looked open, and the pumps didn't take cards, so I continued on.  I finally found one near Sprague, at a place called Tokio.  Most of the lights were off, and the fog was thick, but the pumps took cards, so I filled up and cleaned my windows and lights.

Now after Midnight, I remained in the fog as I left I-90 for 395 into the Tri-Cities.  The cities themselves were confusing but relatively fog-free, though when I started down I-82 toward Oregon, I encountered the thickest fog I had seen.  Barely able to see the lines on the road, I proceeded carefully, being passed by cars at freeway speeds that I thought couldn't possibly see where they were going.  Finally, I broke out of the fog and into Oregon.

I stopped at a couple of no-frills Oregon rest areas, mainly just to nap.  I ended up coming through Portland just before the morning rush hour.  Somehow, I'd had enough freeway driving, and drove on into Rainier on familiar Highway 30, finally arriving home about 7:00 in the morning, about 50 hours after leaving Milwaukee.

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