Wyoming and Nebraska:

            It was in Cody where an old Shoshone Indian and I shared a bench and started slinging the bull. He told me he was a chief, and I told him that I was the President. He said, “Pleased to meet you Mr. Obama.” We accepted each other’s BS and went on. He told me a story that I’ve often repeated and will again: It seems that he grew up on a reservation which the Shoshone shared with the Cheyenne. The Cheyenne claimed that the Shoshone blood lines were too diluted and shouldn’t be allowed on the reservation. The Shoshone countered with “The Cheyenne women are so ugly that even white men don’t want them”

            From there we went through the “Hole in the Wall” country, which was about 80 miles of blacktop and rocks and bluffs and blacktop and sagebrush and heat. I never did see the hole, although there were plenty of holes… mostly in the blacktop.

            Nebraska is like Kansas only longer. It started raining at North Platt and rained the rest of the way home. Actually, the same thing happens every time we go through Kansas. Do you think they would pay us to drive through those states during a drought?

Books by Lou Bradshaw available on Amazon Kindle

 A Fine Kettle of Fish – Hickory Jack – Blue – Ace High – Blue Norther

And now available –  Cain

Visit me on Facebook Lou Bradshaw Artist – Author or www.facebook.com/loubradshawarts

Idaho and Wyoming:

            There is no question that Idaho is a beautiful state. There is a legend that says, “If you come to Idaho 3 times you will stay there” – we’ve been there twice. All the way home, Avon kept suggesting that I take my kayak back out to Idaho for some fun on the Snake and Salmon Rivers. She never used the word “we” in any of those comments. Hmm?

            Coming out of Idaho, we ran smack into the Wyoming, and since we were only about a hundred miles from Jackson, we just had to run up there and see if Yellowstone and the Tetons were still there… they were and they were still beautiful. I would have to rank Grand Teton National Park as one of my top 5 favorite places. It was between the north gate of Yellowstone and Cody, WO where we encountered the subject of my buffalo in a blizzard  painting, “Montana Morning”. Well, it’s just a stone’s throw from Montana. That big bull was just strolling down the road like he owned the whole northwest corner of Wyoming.

            Of course, I stopped and had the good sense to grab a camera… he just kept coming and coming and coming. He looked big enough to toss that little Honda off the road. As he got within a foot of the side mirror, I said something like, “Hi there, you from around here?” He said something like, “Snorff!!” I took that as a no. He just walked on, and I didn’t take that as unfriendly because I wasn’t really wanting to make a new friend right then.

My next book is at the halfway point.... hopefully, it will be fast and furious from here on.  

Books by Lou Bradshaw available on Amazon Kindle

 A Fine Kettle of Fish – Hickory Jack – Blue – Ace High – Blue Norther

And now available –  Cain  

Visit me on Facebook Lou Bradshaw Artist – Author or www.facebook.com/loubradshawarts

Road Trip: Stage 6

Making the turn:

            The next evening was spent on the down hill side of Portland – heading east. Again, I swore never to complain about traffic again. Oregon is a beautiful state all the way across, from the coast over the Cascades and through the Blues. Although, the state is not without a few problems. The front of Avon’s car was somewhat discolored with bugs. In fact, I’m considering sending Oregon a bill for completely exterminating the I-84 corridor. There can’t be a bug left in that area. Avon asked me if I thought the car would ever come clean. I told her that we would be better off having it repainted a bug color.

            Another Oregon problem is their spacing of rest areas. They have few rest areas and it is very far in between them. To compensate they have quite a few parking areas. These are nothing more than a strip of asphalt, a few trash cans, and a path leading back into the bushes. After a grueling stretch, when my eyes were glazing over and every joint and muscle was stiff and aching, we came upon a parking area sign. Avon asked me if I wanted to park. I turned, winked, and told her that I thought we might get a motel instead. Once again, my humor was totally lost on her.

To all my readers, A great big  THANKS for making an old man's dreams come true.

Books by Lou Bradshaw available on Amazon Kindle

 A Fine Kettle of Fish – Hickory Jack – Blue – Ace High – Blue Norther

And now available –  Cain

Visit me on Facebook Lou Bradshaw Artist – Author or www.facebook.com/loubradshawarts

Road Trip: Stage 5

Back on the Coast Highway:

Once again, we hugged cliffs and stopped at every photo op, and once again, we saw Chamber of Commerce PR scenes piled on top of Chamber of Commerce PR scenes. This time I checked every picture to make sure it was in there. We were able to spend one last night on the coast in Newport, Oregon at and inn perched on a cliff overlooking a fantastic sunset across the restless waves. When the sun was gone and the fog crept in a lighthouse about 5 miles up the coast winked at us every 45 seconds or so – it was good. I figured that when God had finished putting Heaven and Earth together He did a little extra work on the Pacific coast just because He loved beauty.

I don’t think God had anything to do with some of the eating places in Newport, OR. Actually I doubt that anyone had given them much thought. We found a Chinese place that boasted “Springfield Style Cashew Chicken” We live near Springfield, MO where the dish was created back in the 60s, and it’s a local favorite. When our order arrived, it was mainly about a pound of white rice with some canned diced veggies, a little thin sauce, some pieces of chicken, and instead of Cashews, it was sprinkled with Peanuts… I don’t think Mr. Leong or anyone in Springfield ever made it that way. Needless to say the tip was as thin as the sauce.

Remember the name "Leong" Creator of Cashew Chicken. There will be more to come.

Books by Lou Bradshaw available on Amazon Kindle

 A Fine Kettle of Fish – Hickory Jack – Blue – Ace High – Blue Norther

And now available –  Cain

Visit me on Facebook Lou Bradshaw Artist – Author or www.facebook.com/loubradshawarts

Road Trip: Stage 4

A Stopping Point: 2

Our patience paid off because we were rewarded with a tee time at Pebble Beach. To say we had trouble sleeping the night before would be a gross understatement, and to say we were there early would be even grosser. After waiting around for 2 ½ hours, we moved to the first tee, the fog moved across the peninsula, and the temperature plummeted. Jackets were in order as were long pants, which I didn’t have.

That notable venue is if nothing else a huge slice of humble pie. I have never given myself much credit for being a good golfer, but I retract any credit I might have inadvertently awarded me. It was AWESOME. It had higher hills, deeper bunkers, slicker greens, and a bigger out of bounds (the Pacific Ocean) than anything I had ever seen or experienced. I fed the Spirits of the Deep Blue with any number of golf balls.

Our playing partners were a Texas preacher and his lawyer son. The lawyer could find a lot of my balls but couldn’t find his own. He would hit them high into that fog, they’d make a left or right turn, and we’d have no idea where they came down. Once the preacher was in the rough looking for one of my balls when I noticed he was dangerously close to stepping off into the ocean about 100 feet below. I grabbed his arm, pulled him to safe ground, and said, “Preacher, you were about 6 inches from getting called to the home office by your boss. I found that ball back home, and if you fall off that cliff somebody is gonna figure it’s my fault. I don’t need all that guilt for a ball that didn’t cost me anything.” I figured his lawyer son would have had the settlement calculated before his papa hit the water. I had only one chance at a par with a 3-foot putt on #14. I promised myself that I would have myself a trophy made if I made the putt. I missed it to the right – do you think it would be appropriate to have a trophy for a bogie at Pebble Beach?

The staff treated everyone like royalty and couldn’t seem to do enough.  All in all Pebble beach was a once in a lifetime experience that we will never forget. I won’t even go into the fact that we didn’t finish until it was well into a cold, soggy sundown, or that we got lost in the dark and fog on the 17-Mile Drive when we left.

Books by Lou Bradshaw available on Amazon Kindle

 A Fine Kettle of Fish – Hickory Jack – Blue – Ace High – Blue Norther

And now available –  Cain

Visit me on Facebook Lou Bradshaw Artist – Author or www.facebook.com/loubradshawarts

Road Trip: Stage 3

A stopping point:

            As we drove on northward, we went through such places as Cambria, San Simeon, Ragged Point, and Big Sur. It was one picture book page after another – a surfer’s paradise followed by a surfer’s paradise. They say (whoever “they” are) that there are still hippie communes up in those hills that don’t know that the Viet Nam war is over or that we have a black president – for now.  When we reached Monterey, we stopped for a while.

            One reason we stopped was for a rest, another reason was we’ve always liked the area, but the real reason was we wanted to play some golf. We knew it would take several days to get a tee time. While we waited, we just moseyed around in Carmel and Monterey.

At the Monterey Fisherman’s Warf, a rather attractive young woman wearing a Green Peace tee shirt and carrying a clipboard was making her way through the crowd and heading right for me. I was flattered until I heard her say, “Mister, I want YOU to save the world.” I told her, “Lady, I saved 10 bucks last night because I admitted to the motel clerk that I was a senior. That’s the best I can do; the rest of the world is yours to save.” As we walked away, I looked back and saw her lips moving, but she wasn’t saying anything.

Books by Lou Bradshaw available on Amazon Kindle

 A Fine Kettle of Fish – Hickory Jack – Blue – Ace High – Blue Norther

And now available –  Cain

Visit me on Facebook Lou Bradshaw Artist – Author or www.facebook.com/loubradshawarts

Road Trip, Stage 2

A right turn:

            We made our right turn and headed through the middle of Los Angeles. Avon had her rosary in her hands, and I had my white knuckles wrapped around the wheel. I’ll never complain about traffic again. Of course, I said the same thing after London, Paris, and Chicago. There were several times that Avon was on the verge of getting out and calling a taxi, until I reminded her that I was a taxi driver when I was in college. I guess she figured “Better the lunatic you know than the one you don’t know.” – she stayed in the car.

            We stopped that night in the little village of Morro Bay on California highway 1/US 101. That road hugs the coast, with a few exceptions, all the way to Canada. When I say, “hug” I mean it is within sight of rocks, sand, cliffs, and the Pacific Ocean for hundreds of miles. I can only do one thing at a time, so Avon was in charge of reading the signs. She worked out a shorthand language to let me know what the road was going to do. She’d say things like, “Left 20 with a wiggle.” Which meant, a left turn, at 20 mph, with several curves to follow. It worked perfectly; we didn’t run off any 500-foot cliff that I know of.

            I should have had a boatload of pictures, but when I went to download them I realized that I had about 70 fewer than I should have. As I would snap a shot, my thumb would hit the erase button and I would…uh…enough said. I figured it out and taped my thumb to my elbow. It was a little uncomfortable, but I didn’t lose any more pictures.

Books by Lou Bradshaw available on Amazon Kindle

 A Fine Kettle of Fish – Hickory Jack – Blue – Ace High – Blue Norther

And now available –  Cain

Visit me on Facebook Lou Bradshaw Artist – Author or www.facebook.com/loubradshawarts