Journey across the West, Part I

The first two days of our epic journey across the west passed safely. I worked until Friday afternoon, then piled tom, eli and corinna into the car and we drove to Butte, Mont., to spend the night with my mother in law. we had a tasty dinner at Dairy Queen in Missoula. since it was corinna's 13th birthday, we topped it all off with blizzards. but i chose a Dilly Bar, which you can eat while keeping one hand on the wheel. this led to the boys constantly referring to dad keeping a firm grip on his dilly bar while driving.

saturday we covered the 400 miles from butte to salt lake city, stopping at chili's in idaho falls for a horrible and expensive lunch (I'm thinking barf).
we pulled into the radisson in downtown salt lake, whose opulance stunned the children.
we had dinner at a Greek restaurant that night with my old work friend Linda. I learned bad news about Rory, God be with him
Our meal was excellent. I ordered stuffed green peppers. eli had pastitso. we drank non resinated wine, and then repaired to the hotel for an after-dinner drink. I thought i would have to join the hotel bar club, but it turned out that law has been overturned.
tomorrow, we hit the lagoon theme park and then on to Saint George!

Nelson wedding

Here we are preparing to attend the recent wedding of my nephew Jack at Flathead Lake, Montana.

That's me tastefully dressed in the Vegas jacket, giving a godfather vibe. The blonde to the right is the old ball and chain. Behind are Eli, Miranda and Tom. Sonny is not in the picture.

Legends of Hoopfest

As a sportswriter, I have covered some amazing teams: the 1985 Chicago Bears, the 1997 Washington State football team, the 1999 Gonzaga Bulldogs. All of these were superior to the 2009 edition of the Associated Pressers who took the field at the 20th annual Hoopfest 3-on-3 basketball tournament.

Yet somehow the Pressers also became a team of destiny. A fearsome foursome that posted a 5-2 record to finish second in the elite media division.

It was an amazing performance, put together by some amazing athletes: Josh Christian, Brian Herrin, Carey Williams and yours truly. Both our losses came at the hands of the champion 406ers, a team of television journalists and noted ringers from Missoula, Mont. I hate those guys.

The tournament plays out on the hot pavement of downtown Spokane, where some 26,000 hoops warriors battle for pride, honor and t-shirts.

I shall summarize the saga.

During a four-game marathon on Saturday, we opened play at 8 am by beating The Inlander, Spokane's free weekly, in overtime. That was followed by an overtime loss to the 406ers, a team with no players beyond their 20s. We recovered to easily pummel the Paperboys, representing both Spokane's daily newspaper and the sad state of print journalism today. Finally we laid waste to The Inlander again in a rematch (perhaps they should become a weakly instead of a weekly).

Sunday, in loser out play, we looked sharp in a win over the Eastern Washington University PR department (payback for those huge tuition increases). That put us in the championship game against the 406ers. We stunned those pretty boy golden throats with a narrow win. But it's a double elimination tournament so we had to play them again.

Playing our seventh game of the tournament, we had nothing in the tank and fell to these callow punks again. They hoisted the special media division trophy, which consists of a brick mounted on a pedestal, while the crowd (or at least our families) showered us with applause. The second place prize is a special runner-up t-shirt, and I immediately donned mine and spent the rest of the afternoon walking through the crowd, pointing it out to people I knew and didn't know.

The photo shows, from left, Carey, Josh, Brian and myself. Remember those names (mine is Nick, FYI). We'll be back.

Team of Destiny

This weekend I played in the Eastern Washington mixed doubles tennis championships, and posted a sterling 5-0 record to qualify for the Pacific Northwest championships in Sun River in August. It's one of my best performances ever.

Of course, I didn't do this alone. For one thing, it was mixed doubles, so there was a woman present on my side of the court. To those ladies I say, thanks for carrying me like a crippled rhino.

Here is a photo of my stalwart team. In front it's Chris. Second row is Kari, Vera, Char and Michelle. Back row is Brad, Michael and The Flying Greek.

I've been having such a good season that I'm thinking of writing a tennis how-to book, with the title ``In My World It's Always 40-Love.''

Journey Across America, Day Five

The photo shows the Rockies heading into Bozeman.

We make up on Day 5 in Butte, looking at a five hour trip to Spokane. We exjoy a fine breakfast and chat with Dot, get our oil changed, and hit the highway.

We stop in Missoula for lunch, then head for home. The hours seem to move slower the closer we get to Spokane.

Finally, our drive comes to an end at 2 pm as we pull up to our home. We are very excited to be home.

Journey Across America, Day Four

Miranda wakes up in a cranky mood and we are in the car by 7 a.m. The trip across North Dakota is on roads that are flat and nearly empty, with a speed limit of 75. We get breakfast at Starbucks in Bismarck, famous as the city where I took the AP test. We also see a sign announcing the continental divide at an elevation of 1,400 feet. This makes me laugh because the divide in Montana is more than 6,000 feet up.

I also tell Miranda I nearly died on this stretch of I-94 decades ago when i was driving to a basketball tournament in Fargo. My Camaro was blown into a 360-degree turn on icy roads, but i kept it on the highway, straightened out, and kept on going. Telling that story always makes me feel like a Duke of Hazzard.

The landscape includes several statues of giant cows that we like.

We have a series of unfortunate stops in Eastern Montana. We pull off the road in Glendive after we see a McDonald's sign, but are told the restaurant is out of business and can find no other fast food joints. We drive an hour down the road to Miles City, where we find an excellent DQ. We eat, but forget to gas up the car. That means in another hour we are pulling over in Hysham to get gas. Three stops so soon is unprecedented for us.

I had hoped to stop at a Ralph Lauren outlet store in Billings, Montana's largest city, but we see no signs on the highway for it so we blast on through without stopping.

The snow covered spires of the Rockies suddenly appear, and two hours later we are in Bozeman, where I attended Montana State University.

We pull off for a walk in the charming downtown, and Cappy makes friends with numerous dogs. We eat a fine light dinner at a sidewalk cafe, then hit the road for 80 more miles to Butte, my wife's hometown.

We are staying with my mother-in-law Dorothy, and have a fine visit before falling exhausted into bed. I am troubled because the car is running very hot.

the photos show me in Bozeman, and Miranda in Waterville, just because we need a pix of her

Journey Across America, Day III

Thursday morning we are up early, and then plow through morning traffic towards Wisconsin. The tolls keep piling up as we cross Illinois, but end when we reach Wisconsin. However, those slick travel plazas also end, leaving us to exit the highway into strange towns when we need gas or food. One plaza is named for WWII correspondent Ernie Pyle, and this prompts me to contemplate how we journalists have become a simpering pile of stenographers worried about our 401Ks. Pyle, who died in the war, was a real reporter.


I drive for three solid hours, then pull over at a truck stop. We buy a bag of cheese curds and wheat thins for lunch, and i call Kon and wish him a Happy Birthday.


Miranda then takes the wheel for more than four hours, which is too long to go without stopping. We get to Minneapolis-St. Paul, and decide to drive through the city into the western suburbs before stopping. But traffic is heavy and this takes longer than expected. We finally pull off the road when we see a Quiznos, but it turns out to be closed. We spot a grocery store across the street and park there.


Miranda goes in first, while I stay outside with Cappy. But Miranda takes longer than expected, and I am dying to hit the can. So I go around to the side of the building, and relieve myself on the pavement. I look up to realize that I am actually standing on a hill in full view of eight lanes of I-90 traffic. I also have to hold my right arm straight out to keep Cappy from jumping into the spray, so it looks like I am signaling a left turn while peeing. This becomes the iconic scene of the trip so far.


When Miranda comes out, I run inside to buy some chicken wings, and we hit the road again. I tell Miranda about my outdoor evacuation, and she is silent for several miles.


We stop for gas in Sauk Centre, Minn., hometown of novelist Sinclair Lewis, eviscerator of small town mores. There are lots of signs announcing this connection, even though Lewis was brutal in his assessments of such places.


We had planned to put in an 11 hour day and stop in Fargo, but when we get there we decide we have a little more energy and push on for Valley City, ND. We reserve a room at a dog-friendly Super 8, but I am disappointed to find no national chain casual dining restaurants. I eat a charmless hamburger at a truck stop, while Miranda subsists on half a chocolate chip cookie. Our dinner costs $8, and the room is $80.


We fall asleep early after 12 hours of driving.

the photo shows North Dakota from our car window.