The morning I left Idaho Falls, my brother, sister and I went out for breakfast where we talked and laughed and laughed and laughed until we cried. We must’ve been a sight. As we were walking out, a song started playing in the restaurant and I had to stay and listen. It was only one of the best songs ever created since the beginning of time…..
Just love this song.
We said our tearful goodbyes, my brother and sister and I. It was wonderful spending time with them and I hope to do it again soon.
So, off I went down the road….goin’ up the country.
First stop, Pocatello.
I hadn’t made much progress from Idaho Falls, but I wanted to stop there because I’ve always liked the name. Pocatello. I like saying it in a Bugs Bunny voice. Eh, I’m easily amused.
I used to work at a Kress store in Riverside long, long ago. I liked the old downtown section of Pocatello.
This is the Hotel Yellowstone. Really huge. I liked the scrollwork at the top edge of the building.
This old neon sign was cool, too.
Moving on down the road….
Love these old motel signs.
I must have taken this picture through my half open side window due to the blurry line in the middle, but still the rock formations are stunning.
Our travel companion for a while.
And when I say “our” …..
….I’m talking about me and Murph.
From Highway 30 to Interstate 80, I stayed the night at a Wal Mart parking lot in Rock Springs, Wyoming.
Then back on the road again. I made a stop in Rawlins, Wyoming for gas, but thought I would stop and take a break from the road in Laramie. I’d always wanted to see it because it’s mentioned in one of my favorite movies (The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension). So I exited the highway in Laramie and failed to find anything other than the Wyoming Territorial Prison.
Sooooo, moving on….
And hello, Colorado.
I stayed the night with my childhood friend, Pam in Fort Collins, Colorado and finally met her very nice husband, Steve. The next morning, I drove south toward Denver, but skirted around it. I didn’t want to drive through the city on a work day. Maybe when I travel back with my granddaughter, Éva, we’ll check out Denver, but not this time.