I finished the chores, took a shower and packed the Caravan, and hit the road, dropping off real mail for my mother. I notice after driving over the Cascades that I am entering the real West, they have horses, cattle, desert looking country where the Columbia Basin hasn't been lifted up to the big sprinkling systems. Barns are either falling apart slowly or now made of space age materials. I took the turn off at Vantage and thought how wonderfully empty the road is compared to I-90 to the north. I am passed by an Air Force couple and later I see them pulled off with emergency flashers on, so I stop and ask if they are okay, they are and I am gone again, they catch up miles and miles down the road.
I have finally seen Pullman, yes it was in the dark, no I didn't stop except for fuel, but that counts - now I know everything about Washington State University, I have been there. Might see it in the daylight going back. I am in Lewistown, Idaho, named for Jerry Lewis I think but then I remember Clarkston isn't named for the candy bar - is there still a Clark Bar out there. One of the problems with getting old is they keep improving all the stuff you liked the way it was. As I drove into the West I kept singing old Western Ballads and thinking about Cowboy movies that could have been made here. Why go to Spain for Italian Westerns, didn't Ford use some prime property in Monument Valley or some such?
Well, for entertainment to lull me to sleep I picked up some gun magazines to leaf through, knowing I am not really a gun blogger, but still working on that American Rifleman, one of the Nation of Rifleman (or so I pretend to be - such a joiner I am not), don't you wonder how Kim is? Hope all is well in his life.
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I asked Chris - the Anarchangel, the other day how K and C were getting along, and he said fine. They were both on Facebook for a while, but they removed their pages. He also quit The Gun Counter about the same time.
I really should email him just to talk - it's been a while.
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