And Then There Were Four

They say nothing ever goes down easy, and it couldn't be more true with vintage Thunderbirds. On Day One, Earl and Jane got three blocks from their house and realized that their new tires were rubbing against the inside of the fenders. Scrape, scratch, screwed! But troupers that they are, Earl and Jane dashed back home and transfered everything from their T-Bird (which had seen a lot of preparation for the trip, including a new tranny, cruise control, seat covers and more) into the trunk of their trusty Volvo and were on their way to our meeting place.

So before we even started, we were down to four T-Birds and a Brand X, but nevertheless, five couples very much looking forward to a longtime dream. We departed at 9:30 a.m. in a cool, but not rainy, overcast, Doris and Bill in the lead. Our first break was at the Twin Pines restaurant in Cle Elum, where some of us took Les' advice to sample their peanut butter shakes; it was a good recommendation. From there we took back roads and I-90 to Vantage and ate a picnic lunch in the sun on the banks of the Columbia River.

Just outside of Spokane we met some fellow T-Birders -- Dan and Linda Garcia and Bob Willford -- at the Sprague rest stop, and they escorted us through Spokane into Post Falls, Idaho, where we stopped for refreshments at the Hot Rod Cafe. Quite a place -- cars on the ceiling, car parts turned into seating areas, red parking meters at each booth, signs and memorabilia galore. And reserved parking for hot rods only -- yes, we took those spaces.

Our route from Post Falls took us along the shores of beautiful Lake Coeur d'Alene -- sparkling blue water and high peaks all around -- to our overnight stop in Kellogg, Idaho. And then my computer problems set in -- including losing all my passwords, so that I could not get online to do this blog and some magazine work. Otherwise it had been a long, happy day.

Day Two found us in the rain as we departed for Big Sky Country. I can't think of a term that more aptly describes Montana than that. No matter where you are, the sky seems huge and the vistas are endless. Even though you can't see the horizon, you feel as though you can see forever. It's magical, and we enjoyed it all. We lunched at a rest stop just outside of Missoula and found ourselves standing, not sitting, around the picnic table. We looked at one another and asked why. The resounding answer was that it felt good to not be sitting! Vintage T-Birds have bench seats that give nary a nod to a bucket seat (those hadn't been invented in the mid-1950s!). And some of us wind up prying ourselves out of these wonderful cars -- there's leg room, but we're sitting low to the ground, and those of us with long legs and arthritis find getting in and out to involve several moves known only to contortionists.

On our way to the night's stay in Bozeman, we crossed the Continental Divide at 6,395 feet, followed by a 6 percent downhill grade where trucks were required to stop and get "instructions" on going downhill. With trucks limited to 25 mph downhill, there still were several runaway truck lanes just in case those brakes didn't work.

So how fast are we going? We're trying to keep these old engines at about 2600 rpm, which means about 60 mph. That's all well and good in some states where the speed limit is 65, but get into Montana and we felt like we were standing still as 18-wheelers, pickups, SUVs and cars pushed the 75 mph speed limit to well over 85 mph. As usual, our T-Birds attract a certain amount of attention as we travel in the right lane. However, it wasn't so for Earl and Jane in their Volvo; they were the lead car and set their cruise control to help determine our rpm speed. Nope -- they got dirty looks and several single-digit salutes from people who were passing on the left.

Problem solved: At our Bozeman hotel, Earl and Jane made signs that read "T-Bird Pace Car," and taped them into their windows, so today, Day Three, the rude salutes turned into one "Thumbs Up" after another.

As we went east in Montana today we began to see touches of fall color -- golds, yellow-greens and a bit of orange. No reds yet, but with just one more day left of summer, we're getting a glimpse of what is ahead. We left Bozeman in bright sunshine with a fall nip to the air. It was glorious until we hit a mountain pass and dense fog that lasted for about an hour. From there it was hazy sun as Montana flattened out -- no more canyons, just rolling hills, some square buttes and more Big Sky.

Lunch was at a rest stop in Wyoming where again we stood happily around the picnic table. As we were departing, Les, who's pulling a small trailer with spare parts should we need them, put down his soft top and said he'd catch up with us. Little did we know that within 20 minutes, he'd come flying by looking for all the world like Snoopy atop his dog house flying his WWI sopworth camel biplane. Yes, there he was in a leather aviator's cap and goggles, wind swirling all around him. It was a sight to behold!

Tonight we're in beautiful downtown Buffalo, Wyo., at the Econolodge. You gotta love this town: In a field on the outskirts, a billboard reads, "Not just a one-horse town." Nancy and I ventured to the nearby Family Dollar store -- looking for a bargain -- and then wandered across the street to the Crazy Lady liquor store. After picking up some beer, we decided to avail ourselves of margaritas-to-go. They're frozen margaritas in a Styrofoam cup, dispensed from what looks like a soft-serve ice-cream machine and available at the drive-through window. Yes, all you Washington staters, a drive-through cocktail lounge! The drinks are sealed in a plastic bag, so once you buy it -- sealed -- the liquor store is no longer responsible.

After dinner at a nearby steakhouse, we're turning in. Tomorrow we're off to Deadwood and then Keystone to see Mount Rushmore. We've taken some great photos, but I'm having trouble placing them in the blog. Sorry, but we're hoping to solve that problem in the next couple of days.

All our best to you all,

Judy and Gordon