although this morning we're in South Bend, after a somewhat harrowing trip through driving rain from Chicago on the toll road, the unlit part, with (of course) construction closing lanes from time to time and lots of semis. The lane lines were often invisible under the rain, and Kristen was navigating by semi (ie there's one beside us, don't bang into it, there's one ahead of us, let's hope he can see the lane lines).
First night we reached Butte, second night Fargo--or to be more precise, the Anaconda rest area and the Moorhead rest area. I stared at the mineral samples at Anaconda, and remembered researching the mine just recently for the rewrites of Chimp/Transmontane. Also my painter-self kicked in, exclaiming 'ooh, azurite and malachite! Realgar! ooh!'
We hit a proper rain of tiny bugs in North Dakota, so thick it sounded like rain. Only the pressure-wash effect of semi-spray last night finally got most of it off. This is a big van, too, so short people like me have to lean over the hood to clean windshields, coming away with a fine coating of dried bug on one's shirt. Fortunately the first station we stopped at had long-handled squeegies.
Western Washington was hot hot hot. Montana was rainy. Surely this is a reversal of the natural order?