Saturday, June 18, 2016

June 15: Flattery will get you Somewhere

I'm missing a lot of days in between, and I apologize. At some point I hope to document each day's adventures, but as it is now,  I just can't keep up with it. Someday....

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After camping a Crescent lake, breakfast was freeze dried mac and cheese, and Mexican style rice and chicken, most excellently prepared over the fire by Chef Matt.

After packing everything up, we drove out though the Makah tribe Indian Reservation, to hike the Cape Flattery trail all the way out to the most north west point of the lower 48.


Stunning. Absolutely amazing views.
After the hike back, we took a drive out to Shi Shi beach to let the puppy run a bit.

Floyd loved the beach. It was so much fun to just watch him run back and forth across the sand, with his tongue hanging out and his ears flopping.  I think we could all take a lesson from Floyd. The sheer joy and enthusiasm he greets each and moment with is good motivation to enjoy each moment as it comes, and enjoy it to the fullest.

We went for some food (a little Mexican place called the Crazy Fish) then drove back up to Hurricane Ridge to catch the sunset. 


Tuesday, June 14, 2016

June 11: Dune Buggy guy and Exploring the Moon?

Okay so first, I'll tell the story everyone has been dying to hear. Even though there's not really much to tell....

We woke up early (because the sun comes up at like 4, bleh) and kind of took our time getting around. When we finally got back on the road, we tried to come up with a plan as we drove.

The day had previously been set aside for Yellowstone, but that obviously wasn't going to happen. I mean, no way we're driving an hour back to the park, then two hours through the park, only to turn around and drive it all again. That's way too much backtracking to be worth our time. So finding ourselves with what was essentially a "bonus" day, we decided to take our time, and pull off to see whatever roadside attraction we came across.

So an hour or so in when we saw a sign advertising some sand dunes, we were like, "Dude yes. Let's play in the sand."

It ended up being quite a ways off the main road, but eventually we made it to the St. Anthony Sand Dunes.


Kind of a weird place for huge piles of sand if you ask me, but they were certainly pretty.

All along the road widing through the dunes there were a bunch of signs saying "No Parking on Shoulder". We saw one at least every half mile.

All around there were pickups with trailers pulled off to the sides of the road and people unloading dirt bikes and dune buggies. After all, when you live near some giant sand hills, what else would you want to spend your weekends doing?

So when we finally made it to somewhere near the center of the dunes, where there seemed to be a spot to pull of, I decided that's where we'd park. There was a pickup truck some ways in, and a minivan beside it not unlike our own.

The first hundred feet or so of the little driveway/parking lot area was sand marked back and forth with tire tracks, but just beyond that the ground leveled out and became rocky and much more solid looking. Thinking that there was definately a chance of getting stuck, but hoping for the best, I turned in.

Well, the sand was very sandy, and the rocks were very rocky, and Olga didn't like the sand. As soon as I made it through the sandy part and onto solid ground, I knew turning in had been a bad idea. I should have followed everyone else's example in ignoring the signs, and just parked along the shoulder.

I turned us around, dogded a few larger bolders, and gunned it to get back across the sand and onto the road.


Olga tried. She did her best. But that sand was just too sandy. So now we're stuck, and there's a rock wedged under the frame that we slid onto despite my attempts to steer away from it. We tried digging. I tried reverse, then drive, then reverse again. Nothing. More digging.

We got the rock out, but Olga was still stuck.

Thankfully, there were a lot of people parked along the shoulder (shame on you all. Really.) and there were several guys close with dune buggies warming up the engines and putting on goggles, and doing all the kinds of things people do to prepare dune buggies to... well, do whatever it is dune buggies do.

So we trudged across the sand, scoping out which of the dune buggy-ers looked the most cheerful, and trying to decide who I should ask for help.

A middle aged man in a yellow shirt was the first unlucky soul to look my way. I greeted him, gestured at Olga, and asked if he might be able to help pull us out. (Apparently, he'd just finished towing someone else out of a similar situation.)

Before I'd even finished my plea, he gestured past me and nodded.

Someone else had already come to the rescue.


We rushed back to Olga's side as baseball cap and jeans guy here crawled around in the sand near the front end and looked for a safe place to hook his towstrap.

"Need a hand?"

"It certainly looks that way. I've got a shovel? We've towed her before and we usually tie to the frame."

He frowned a moment, then jogged around the back. He was very excited to see the hitch.

"I'll just pull you backwards a bit. Back onto the solid, rocky stuff. Then you just dodge those rocks there and gun it through the sand back up onto the pavement."

I refrained from telling him that was the exact plan that had gotten us into this predicament in the first place, and instead smiled and said we'd give it a shot.

So dune buggy guy hooked up, we jumped in, and I threw Olga in reverse.

The buggy gave a good, solid jerk, I hit the gas, and we were back on semi-solid ground. Dune buggy guy unhooked his tow strap, gave Olga a good natured pat, and waved at me in the mirror.

Olga came out of that sand like a bat outta the hot place, swung around in a fishtale like you see in action movies, and we tore down the road trailing smoke and flames.

Just kidding.

I hit the gas pretty hard, we started a bit sluggish, and then found our footing long enough to climb back onto the road.

I looked back in time to call my thanks at the dune buggy guy as he tore off across the sand, and that was the last of that.

Suffice it to say, we parked along the shoulder for our adventure, spent the better part of an hour climbing the sand dunes like desert nomads.

In the middle of Idaho. Who knew, right?



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We drove to Craters of the Moon national reserve after that.


A huge lava flow spread over I don't know how far, Craters of the Moon felt like some kind of sci-fi movie set. Old lava as far as your eye can see, with plants and trees just growing right up out of the rock.

The weather was windy, and a little cold, and we were thankful it wasn't as hot as it had been previously. I can only imagine what blazing sun on all those miles of black rocks would have felt like.

We walked a few trails, drove the "scenic loop" around the (comparatively) small park, and climbed a giant hill.


Man was that a view.

After walking the 5 minutes back down the hill (it took over five minutes to walk DOWN. Not sure at what point a hill becomes a mountain, but I think that one may have been on the border) we jumped back in the car and took off again in search of the lava tubes (caves) the ranger at the gate had told us about.

Man, was that a sight. We pulled in, geared up, grabbed a flashlight, and took off down the mile long trail.


We played cave explorer for at least an hour, climbing over rocks and through crevices and getting cave water dripped down the backs of our necks. It was beautiful, and huge, and I think I want to be  a spelunker when I grow up.


Sunday, June 12, 2016

June 10: All the National Forests, and Yellowstone

Oh, where to begin?

To be honest, I was kind of dreading the day. We had driving on the agenda. Lots and lots of driving. Gillette all the way to Yellowstone, nothing but highway for hours and hours and hours. Or so I expected.

As it happened, we ended up driving through the breathtaking Bighorn National Forest (and later on, the Shoshone national forest). Again, I found myself speechless in the face of God's majesty, displayed by His creation. 

The mountains. Driving through the mountains, I was completely awed by how the sight made me feel. Standing atop the "scenic viewpoiont" where we pulled in to have lunch, I felt simultaniously as small and inconsequential as an ant, but also as if I were the conquorer of all that stretched out below me.


It amazes me to think that God chose to give little tiny man dominion over all the rest of creation. He created humankind in His image and set us up to be co-rulers over all He had made. It's an honor and a priviledge we take for granted.
I've never been one for the whole "go-green, tree hugger" movement. But God has called us to take care of what He's given us, and we shouldn't take that responsibility lightly.


By the time we got to Yellowstone it was almost 7 pm local time.  It took almost an hour to drive from the east entrance to the visitor's center near the middle of the park. 
An hour during which time, we had zero cell service. (Thank you Olga, for not breaking down)

Since it was getting rather late, we decided to figure out our sleeping arrangements for the night before we did any other exploring.

After some investigation, we discovered that all the campgrounds and lodges were either full, or way too expensive (think,  $400 and up per night. Yikes.), and sleeping in your car is illegal. 

Of course. Because that was our plan. 

So with light and energy quickly fading, we checked the map and decided to head for Old Faithful. We only really had the time and energy to see one thing,  and really,  why else do people go to Yellowstone other than to see Old Faithful?

I'm not entirely sure what I was expecting, but Old Faithful was... not it. It's a steamy hole in the ground that a shoots out more steam every 15 to 20 minutes or so. Huh.

But the sunset. Man, that sunset. Allowed for some pretty awesome pictures if I do say so myself.



We packed up shortly after and hit the road again. Breanna drove us out of the park, and I feel asleep somewhere between the west entrance and the Idaho boarder. 
We stopped around midnight at a little gas station to sleep. 

And that was day four.

Saturday, June 11, 2016

June 9: Presidents, the Black Hills, and an adventure in Nowhere, Wyoming



Mt. Rushmore today.

As I've tried to figure out how exactly to relay my experience here, I've had a rather difficult time making sense of my thoughts and feelings.


Rushmore was incredible. Amazing to see the time and effort and dedication it took to carve these faces out of the side of a mountain. I'm so thankful that God has blessed humanity to share in a bit of His creativity.
At the same time, seeing the monument, I felt oddly.... ashamed? Not for or of myself personally, but for the country I call home.

This is probably going to be a very unpopular opinion, but hear me out a moment.


It cost us almost 1 million dollars and countless man hours to carve Mt. Rushmore. Yes, it is indeed an amazing and awe-inspiring sight, but doesn't that seem a little excessive?
Staring up at the faces of these long-dead men, I found myself wondering how many starving people could have been fed with that time and money? How many homeless could have been housed? How many other, better, more merciful, more compassionate things could we have done with those resources?

And while certainly, the men who's faces are carved upon that stone were great indeed, how much greater is He who created them? Yet we elevate the creation to the Creator's level, and honor that which was built as equal to - or greater than - the Builder Himself. We've idolized our founding fathers, and worshiped mortal man as more impressive and more important than the Heavenly Father.

After seeing the Badlands the day before, and being completely awed into speechlessness by the beauty God endowed nature with, (brace yourself for another unpopular opinion) seeing Rushmore almost felt disappointing. I do believe Breanna and I photographed the forest and rocks surrounding the monument just as much - if not more - than we did the monument itself.
As I said, Rushmore was amazing. But it lacked something that the Badlands had - some ability to instill a sense of childlike wonder.

At the Badlands, I felt God's presence. I felt His divine fingerprint pressed into the earth, every swirl and crease molding the land into a sight like nothing else.
At Rushmore, I saw man-made beauty, and it lacked the divine signature of God's hand.
Amazing? Certainly. But simultaneously disappointing in a way I find hard to express with words.

In summery, Rushmore seemed a very American thing; big, flashy, expensive, visually impressive, but ultimately self-centered, and hollow.
I come away from this national monument and this symbol of American pride, feeling somehow less patriotic than when I arrived.


America, wake up. Put your Creator back on the throne, and remember that your people need you to help them more than they need you to build them monuments.


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93 degrees is really hot when you’re stuck alongside the road in the middle of Nowhere, Wyoming.
I know this because we spent two hours in just such a position on Thursday when the van broke down just outside of a little town called New Castle.

We’d spent the morning at Rushmore, the early afternoon driving and hiking through the black hills, and had been on the road again for at least two hours.
Wyoming seemed to be stretching on forever (despite the fact that we’d only crossed into the state about an hour before), and we were wondering why on earth anyone would choose to live in such a state.
Flat, hot, empty, open, hot, boring, lots of cows and scrub bursh. Also, it was hot. Really, really hot.

We were cruising at a comfortable 80 mph down the highway, (that’s the speed limit around here. Crazy right? Get with the program, Indiana. I’ve got places to be.) when trouble struck.
The whole van starts shaking like we’re riding rumbles strips, and we have no idea what’s going on.
So we pull off (into the mouth of what looks like a driveway…? leading up into a mountain…??) and I call dad.

If you’ve never been in this situation before, here’s a fun fact for you: trying to explain car issues over the phone is almost as difficult as trying to diagnose car issues over the phone.
Also, Wyoming is really hot.
Dad doesn’t know what’s wrong, so he says I should call my grandpa. Okay. So I call.

He says maybe a tire issue? I should put on the spare.
Okay. I can change a tire.
So I call dad back to let him know that that’s the plan.
Dad says I probably can’t change the tire, because sometimes even he struggles with those lug nuts.
Okay, so maybe I can’t change a tire.
Man, is it hot.

Looks like we’re going to call Triple A and get them to send out a strong guy who can change tires.
A half hour on the phone gets me through to Triple A and I tell them my problem.
Another 45 minutes, three bottles of water, a game of cards, and a lot of sitting in the sun and sweating. Finally, the Triple A guy shows up.
I tell him that I think I need a tire change, but he says the tires look fine, and from what he knows of the problem, it might be an axle issue.
That sounds expensive.

To make a long story short, eventually, we were able to limp the van to a local repair shop that Kelly the Triple A guy recommended. The mechanics stayed almost two hours past normal closing time to get us up and running again.

Everyone we met and talked with was extremely helpful, friendly, and willing to do whatever it would take to make sure we were safe to get back on the road.

It was pretty late by the time we finally pulled into Gillette (the closest, bigger city)and we had to drive through a storm get there, but we made it, and we met some really nice people along the way.
It was a rough and rather crazy day, but God was faithful to provide for us and keep us safe throughout all of it.

Friday, June 10, 2016

June 8: The Baddest of all the Lands

Day two we explored the Howlands' property a bit. Nate was an excellent tour guide as we crested hills, ducked barbed wire fences, stepped around thorns and nettles, and ultimately rested by a small pond.

We found such stillness there at the edge of the pond, it was hard to think about anything else. We sat at it's edge for quite a while, just watching the wind ripple the water, and the grass, and watching the dragonflies skim the surface.
A good reminder for us both, I think, to not loose sight of what we came out here to see, by spending our time worrying about keeping a schedule.

Daron and Will both had to work, so we didn't see much of them. But Dawn brought pizza home for lunch, so we got to sit and talk with her for a bit before we took off. I've assured them that I'll try and talk the family into coming up to visit sometime. I personally can't wait to return to SD. It's beautiful country.

After we said our goodbyes, We drove to the Badlands.


I really have no words to describe the Badlands. I could use words, certainly - wide open, stunning, like nothing else I've ever seen - but none of those words (or any others I can think of) describe what I saw.
Until you see it for yourself, I don't think you'll ever understand the wild beauty of such a place.


It was truly amazing to explore the ridges and canyons and crevices, and to see all that God has made.

But more than amazing, it was humbling to realize more fully that God made all that - all of the world and all of it's wonders - and yet He treasures you and I above all of it.

Wednesday, June 8, 2016

South Dakota



I just got done driving back with my family on a 14 hour trek from New Jersey, and 2 days later Cass and I drove 15 hours to Winner, South Dakota.  Call us crazy, but it actually didn't feel like long, until we were 30 miles out from our destination. The moon was already setting, bugs were splashing the windshield at a gross, fast pace. We were listening to whatever music came on that wouldn't put us to sleep. There was no traffic and our address in the GPS was wrong. Yet, God was still there. We had left Indiana that morning a little teary eyed, very nervous. I might have been having second doubts about going. I travel all the time and it's usually by myself. I have finally been getting back into the groove of small town living to pack up and go again.
But that's the thing. If I listened to every doubt that passed through my head, I would have never joined theater. I wouldn't have gone to Costa Rica. 
See that's the thing. God doesn't call us to live in our fear. Fear doesn't define me. I used to let it define many areas in my life.
I want to live for Christ though. I want my actions and words to match when I speak and show the love of our Savior.
Reminds me of Paul. I love the guy. He was defined by so many things before God's grace changed him. Paul didn't let fear take grip over him. Paul constantly was reminding himself and others of why we do what we do, and how to live as a follower of Christ when no one else follows.
So, day two of the trip, I'm sitting in the car on our way to the Badlands. Our stomachs are full of warm food. We are rested up and ready to continue on. And I'm just trying to take everything in: far off mountains, hills, curvy roads, blue skies And I'm just grateful. Grateful for a merciful Savior who pours out His love to us. Who gives us purpose with precious life, despite the trials and tribulations that try to confuse us. I'm grateful for friends, like Cass, who have a solid foundation in faith. I'm just grateful for a whole bunch.
To God be all the glory.

Day 1: Winner, SD



I'm posting this from just outside Winner, SD. We spent fifteen hours on the road, and covered over 800 miles yesterday.

I do not recommend that.

We pulled in here to the Howland's house about midnight local time (1 AM Plymouth time), after much confusion, wrong addresses, and dirt roads that stretch on forever.

Nate and Rob were kind enough to loan us their room for the evening, so we spent our fist night sleeping in actual beds. And Chef Nate made us waffles and sausage for breakfast this morning. I'm thinking about suggesting they open a hotel chain out here. Truly 5 star service we received today. We're very grateful.

As we prepare for the day, we've checked the schedule and discovered that we've only got a few hours to spend out here. Fishing was suggested as a possible pastime, along with 4-wheeling and prairie dog hunting. Not sure yet what exactly the day holds, but we've got a bit of rearranging and organizing to do in the back of the van this morning first thing.

The plan for this afternoon involves the four hour drive to Mt. Rushmore, and from there, another bit of driving out to the badlands/black hills area.

The first thing I noticed about South Dakota, was the hills. There's so much more variation in the terrain here, and (in my opinion) it's quite an improvement.

The second thing I noticed were the bugs. Driving 80 down the highway, and it sounds like rain, but the yellow and green splatters across the windshield are definitely not water drops. Windshield wipers didn't help either, and actually only served to smear it about and make it harder to see. We stopped at a gas station some 30 miles out last night and washed it off, only to jump back on the road and find ourselves in the same half-blind situation not 10 minutes later. Yuck.

So for now, we're relaxing with the youngest two Howlands and planning the day. Dawn and Daron may come home from work at lunch to see us off. I only regret that we can't spend a few more days. I foresee another trip out here to visit in my future, this one a little longer. And maybe I can talk mom into coming with.

More later, as the day unfolds.....