Found out this morning that the dust storm forced them to close the interstate we drove on yesterday, but we were just south of the closed portion.
Today we left Washington, scrambled up the mountains in Idaho, hurtled down them in Montana, and coasted out onto the flatter terrain around Missoula. We artfully planned just one stop, in Couer d’Alene, Idaho, for fuel, lunch and hunt for Idaho wines. We told Lara we’d like to visit the Idaho State Liquor store, figuring that if anyone would have Idaho wines, they would. Unfortunately, we told Lara to make it a via point, and after zig-zagging through town for ten minutes, she vectored us back onto the interstate. We had passed the store without seeing it. We turned around, and told her again, and the next thing we knew, she was telling us to continue for three hundred kilometers again. At this point, we told her to forget Missoula, and take us to the darn liquor store, period. So she did, and it was closed. They don’t open until one in the afternoon. Caroline suggested we hit a grocery store to look for lunch sandwiches and maybe they would have some Idaho wine, too. Found an Albertson’s, and they did. We also gassed up, then drove on to the next picnic area to eat our lunch. It wasn’t fancy, just one metal picnic table with a view of the interstate and an exhibit of mining implements, but it was sunny out, and the delay was minimal. Entering Montana, we needed to adjust our watches to Mountain Time. Don’t try to picture me fiddling with my wristwatch while careening down the rockies at seventy five miles an hour, I took it off and adjusted it later.