REDMONT, Wash. – I cried when I saw the mountains.
Not because of their incredible beauty, but because I knew I’d have to cross them.
I recognize that the Rockies are a true wonder of the world. I respect the awesome chain of events that had to happen to create them. I admire their power over giant weather systems and have marvelled at satellite pictures that show them as a great raised scar along our coastline.
But I do not like them.
They encroach on the big sky I’ve enjoyed for days. They box me in. There is no way around them. I hate driving in them, despise roller-coaster roads that vanish then suddenly reappear but at a deadly, twisting angle.
And so I cried when I saw them and knew I’d have to conquer them again.
It took me two days, with a stop for the night in a bowl-shaped valley and a harrowing nighttime last haul to Seattle. Yet I did it. I am through the mountains.
They are at my back, where they belong.