The West Coast seemed like a good destination for a maiden voyage, so with a full tank of fuel and the rising sun at our backs, we headed across Minnesota and North Dakota in two days. In Teddy Roosevelt National Park, we awoke to a six inch blanket of wet snow. As the morning wore on, the snow worsened and the visibility dropped to fifty yards.  Traffic had slowed to 25 mph. After several hours of hypnotic snowflakes, I was ready for a break. We pulled into the parking lot of a truck stop and Barb made tea while I sat on the futon couch and closed my eyes. When the tea was ready, Barb sat on the couch with me. The storm raged on on the other side of our windows, but we were snug and warm with all kinds of room to stretch out, stand up, walk, and lay down.

        The snow let up enough for us to continue on, and we made the Madison River that night. The next few days we followed the Big Hole, the Bitteroot, the Lochsa, and the Clearwater, stopping at the Nez Perce National Historic Park near Spalding, Idaho.

        There were only two other groups at the museum: an older couple, and a man with his two high school age daughters, who met us out in the parking lot. They said they were from Washington and both girls had dreamed of buying an old bus, converting it to a camper, and traveling around the country. They asked if they could tour the bus to get ideas and ask questions. We readily agreed and spent about a half hour with them.

        After they left, we continued on our journey west, following the Clearwater, then meandering our way to the Columbia and out to the Pacific Ocean.

        Over 6000 miles were put on the bus that first trip and we’ve gone on six other long trips with it, all of them very memorable and enjoyable.

        Perhaps two years after that first trip, a guest of ours was on a month long backpacking trip through Alaska’s Brooks Range. Anika has been staying with us since she was in her mother’s womb. While sitting around camp one night, one of Anika’s fellow hikers mentioned how she’d really like to get an old school bus, make a camper out of it, and travel around. She mentioned that while in Idaho they had met this family who home schools their three kids and travel around in their bus.

        Anika said, “You’re kidding! I know a family in Minnesota who home schools their three kids, and they travel around in a bus!”

        “A big green bus?”

        It soon became obvious they were talking about the same family, the same bus. One girl was from Washington, and had encountered the bus in Idaho; one girl was from Minnesota and had known the family her entire life. There they were, sitting around a camp in the Brooks Range of Alaska, making the connection.