The Road to Missoula

The four of us and all we would carry for the next year or more were packed into the new automobile with a cargo carrier on top.  Our destination was Montana, Missoula to be exact, because the city is located between Yellowstone and Glacier National Parks.  The valley has long been a hub for the outdoors.  Lewis and Clark were supposedly the first US settlers to inhabit the area.  We had a bit more than two weeks to arrive and so time did not seem to be an issue, although we planned to spend most of our time in Yellowstone and Grand Teton. 

Five states in less than a day: MS, TN, AR, MO, and IA.  Except for Iowa we had lived or visited the others a number of times. I tell myself and the girls it doesn’t matter how many states we visit but how much time and experience we get out of them.  Still, I often tell myself, “I’ve been to 45 states now and my daughters have been to 15.”  It just sounds cool. 

            So much to explore in our country and we felt we had plenty of time.  One ‘scenic route’ led to another.

“Hey, we’ve never been to Iowa.  How about we drive along the Mississippi River?”  Beautiful, yes, and if time allowed we would take every scenic route.  The interstates look too similar.  Not the landscapes necessarily, but every exit has that same gas station, maybe a Subway, Wal-Mart, Home Depot or other well-known business.  Get off the beaten path, take the smaller highways and roads.  Only then can the uniqueness of the country be found, like the little hole in the wall diner with characters out of a David Lynch movie.

Iowa has cornfields for miles, mostly owned by large corporations such as DuPont and such.  The dark green of the cornstalks against the blue, cumulus cloud sky, create colors so vivid.  The Mississippi River seems cleaner up North.  Rather than the muddy color we are used to in Memphis, its waters have not yet been soiled.  Small islands dot the river, some even inhabited.  I assume they aren’t prone to flooding or else they have good insurance.  But the Old Man seems like an entirely different river than in the South, smoother and controlled.  Perhaps one day I will float it, a dream of mine, either by canoe or more likely a riverboat. 

As long as the roads would allow we drove close to the river in Iowa and Wisconsin until we crossed over into Minnesota…