Exploring Our Great Company

As I studied the map of our great country, our topography was the first thing that struck me. The west coast is a chain of mountains including the Sierra-Nevada and the Cascades running from the Mexican border all the way north to the Canadian border. The Sierra-Nevadas contain Mt. Whitney which is the highest mountain in the contigous 48 states at 14,505 feet.

Then there is this huge gap including the Columbia Plateau and the Great Basin before you get to the Rocky Mountains. The huge Rocky Mountain chain runs from the Mexican border all the way to the Canadian border.

There are 67 mountains over 14,000 feet high in the lower 48 states and they are all in just 3 states: California, Colorado and Washington.

In fact, when we look at a topographical map of North America, we have a more or less continous chain of mountains that run from Central America all the way north to Alaska.

The first leg of my planned exploration of our great country would run from San Mateo, California to Salt Lake City, Utah. As I headed east I would first climb interstate highway I-80 past Lake Tahoe, up and over the Sierra-Nevada mountains via the Donner Summit at an altitude of 7,227 feet, and down into Reno, Nevada at 4,505 feet altitude.

Then I would follow I-80 across this vast, flat, austere plateau called the Great Basin and arrive at Salt Lake City at an altitude of 4,327 feet snuggled up again the massive Rocky Mountains towering over 14,000 feet.

All American Odyssey

Before I left I got my Buddy, my 56 VW Bug lubed, oiled, plugs changed and tuned up. I also got a set of brand new tires including the spare. On the eve of my All American Odyssey I felt reasonably confident me and my Bug were up for the challenge.

All packed up and ready to go, I tried to get some sleep. No way. I was too wired, too excited to start my solo voyage across America. So I ended up casting off in the pre-dawn before the roads got busy. It was such a pleasure humming along on nearly empty roads before the sun was up.

As I headed east, I first drove toward Sacramento. That meant I was cutting right across the huge, flat San Joaquin Valley. I passed through the Sacramento area with an altitude of only 30 feet above sea level just as the city was waking up, and began the long, gradual climb to Donner Summit with an altitude of 7,227 feet.

My Buddy, my 56 VW Bug with its 4 cyclinder engine, 36 horse power, and 4 speed transmission did great on the flat. But as we began to climb, passing stunning Lake Tahoe on the way, I was spending more and more time in third gear.  My goal for my trip was to average 50 miles an hour. Climbing toward Donner Summit, I was going more like 25 to 30 miles an hour. As I climbed, the weather slowly warmed up from near freezing to the low 50’s. The day was sparkling clear with a hint of fall color.

Cresting Donner Summit at 7,227 feet, it was easy sailing all the way down to Reno at 4,505 feet. Hungry and low on gas, I stopped briefly in Reno and filled both tanks. I had a pancake sandwich which was fried eggs and strips of bacon between 2 pancakes topped with maple syrup. Washed down with several cups of coffee, I was recharged.

Fired up and refueled, I started on the 500 miles on I-80 all the way to Salt Lake City. Incredibly flat all the way, I could comfortably average 60 miles an hour. About half way I stopped to refill my gas tank and to coffee-up. Running on caffeine and the excitement of seeing a place I had never seen, I drove straight through the rest of the way.

As I entered the outer perimeter of Salt Lake City, I found a new inexpensive motel and coffee shop. $4.50 a night. I checked in, dumped my stuff in my room and crashed. I was so tired I slept on top of the bed without even taking my clothes off.  I didn’t move for 10 hours.

I was awakened by the maid service telling me I had to get our of the room before 12 noon. It was 11:30 am. I went to the bathroom, washed my hands and face, and reloaded my stuff back into my car.

As I slowly woke up, I realized I was starving. I went to the motel coffee shop. Ordered coffee and a pancake sandwich, and settled into a booth to study my road map. My next destination city was Boise, Idaho. At approximately 2,800 feet altitude, it was roughly down hill. That meant I could maintain my goal speed of 60 miles an hour all the way.

I finished my brunch, filled my car with gas, and pulled onto interstate highway I-84 heading north. Another crisp, clear fall day, it was a beautiful drive. I stopped about 2/3 of the way there to top up my gas tank and get one cup of coffee.

I arrived in outer Boise in the early evening. I found a great motel by a lake. It was off-season so it fit my budget of less than $10 a night. After I dumped my stuff in my room, I went to their coffee shop.   

I ordered meat loaf and studied my road atlas. So far I was a little ahead of my schedule. After dinner I walked back to my room. I unpacked a little, hung up my clothes, then took a shower. I put on a fresh pair of boxer shorts and a clean t-shirt. I climbed into bed. The fresh clean sheets felt amazing. I read a few pages in one of books I brought: The Complete Short Stories of Ernest Hemingway. A Nobel Prize winning author, he was also an avid outdoorsman. He wrote of great stories about hunting and fishing – particularly in the Sun Valley, Idaho area and in Upper Peninsula, Michigan. As good as the story was, I only lasted a few pages and went out like a light.

California. Nevada. Utah. Now Idaho. I had made a toe-hold on this vast, magnificent country of ours. The scale of America was both inspiring and humbling. My Bug was humming along. We were both game for more.  

Thank you for listening.

As always, I wish you and your family the very best of health.
Joe