Road Trippin'

The Farmer and I went on a road trip last week. It was a honeymoon-moon of sorts, as it was our delayed escape from the Farm after our White Dress Party, Part Two (aka one year wedding reception). Originally we planned a road trip honeymoon-moon for the week after the party. Then we decided that since we were having 225 people in our backyard for the festivities we might be a bit tired to actually leave the premises. Plus, we had done all this work on the Jungle House...why not enjoy it? So instead of a May road trip we had a June road trip. After silage season, of course.

So last week we took a road trip to Oregon. And we freestyled.

Freestyling = no hotel reservations.

I think The Farmer was trying to raise my blood pressure.

My mother said it would be good for me.

At one point when we decided on a tentative direction for our trip I stated - rather calmly - that I was going to look up hotels in that area. The Farmer replied he was going to call my mother.

NevermindIWillStayCalmAsWeAreHeadingToPopulatedAreasThatAreSureToHaveAPlaceForUsToStayThatIsNotOurCar.

I did, however, bring my file folder of travel magazine clippings along for the ride. You can take the girl away from her file cabinet but you can't take the file cabinet away from the girl...

I'm happy to report that we have returned home and did not have to sleep in our car. And three of the four nights were big successes in hotel-land. The first two nights were compliments of Hilton (The Farmer has stated more than once that he married me for my Hilton points).

The fourth night had an amazing view...

The third night? Well, let's just say it was fine but a bit of a "keep your socks on" sort of place. It also was a former smoking room - based on initial smell - but we fixed that by ordering pizza and having a picnic. That said, The Farmer would like you to know that it had the best water pressure of all the hotels.  

You can't win 'em all.

As we drove through Central Oregon we came across the Crooked River and the bridge(s) that go high over it. These pictures don't do it justice...we are 300 feet above the bottom of the ravine.

I'm sure more than a few Oregon pioneers used a few choice words when coming upon the Crooked River. Because, dang, that is deep!

This bridge behind The Farmer is a train trestle. Yes, The Farmer was in heaven.

After two days of rain (a theme for any date The Farmer and The Brunette seem to take) the blue sky and white puffy clouds were a welcome sight. We have zero pictures of Day Two, driving over the Cascades, because, well, we couldn't see anything through the thick clouds and fog. 

And then later in Day Three, we came upon this lovely mountain...

Hello, Mount Hood!

And then we crossed the Columbia on what I think is the world's skinniest bridge. The Farmer insists semis can cross the river here. I'll believe him, but am rather glad we didn't meet an 18-wheeler during our trek across the river. 

After our morning view on Day Four of Mount Hood from the north, we got to drive along side her for the ride home.

Oh, and no road trip would not be complete without the "take it quick...now!" photos of grain silos and/or other farm buildings for The Farmer. I think he takes road trips to just get ideas for his latest model train design. 

We'll see what he comes up with in The Train Room. Until then, I'm going to go peruse the hilton.com website to reassure Paris that I still like her hotels...we just had to go freestylin' for a few days.

I think my blood pressure has returned to normal.