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In 1993, I headed to the Pacific Northwest with my three kids. Rita was 12, Fran was 10, and Sam was 7, and I was the only driver, roundtrip. And it was the trip of a lifetime.
Now, I have the great fortune of being able to revisit the west again, with the next generation, Josie and Vivie, seven years old, as Sam was 21 years ago, and Rita, their pregnant mom. So this little baby boy inside her will be well travelled himself before his eta in October.
We will promise to be bad in the Badlands, hilarious in the Black Hills, appropriately inappropriate at Devil's Tower, and brilliant in the Bitteroots. Fourth of July in Missoula will crackle with fireworks of rekindled friendships of our beloved soulsisters in the Sapphires.
Then, ultimately, we will be thrilled to be with Sam, Barbara Malone, and Muffie Connelly, Keelin Mayer, Beth Burns, et al in Portland.
The twins intend to blog along the way, though pregnant Rita is making no promises, so we will see how this evolves. Westward Ho we go. (Don't say Ho's).
