Actually, Annie jolted me to consciousness with a vigorous shaking just so I could grab this shot. Then I immediately fell back asleep. It’s hard work this traveling business. Anyway, Idaho just flew by!  By the time we slipped into Washington, the sun was setting and we still had many hours to go before reaching Vancouver, WA – like 6 – which in AMB travel time is slightly under one light year. We stopped for a warm dinner in Spokane before I took to driving the rest of the way, with Bill manning the helm of our faithful truck and navigating through the utter black of the moonless night.  Vancouver is right over the border from Oregon (which I quickly learned is pronounced OR-i-ghin, as opposed to or-i-GHON, as I grew up saying it) and the highway leading there crossed over just a few hours into our drive. Where it crosses, the road begins to follow the Columbia River which forms the border between Washington and Oregon. For most of the way we drove along the highway with the Columbia river to our right. There was an eeriness driving in the dark of the night with unseen black water along the edge of the road and occasional alien lights out over invisible structures. We finally pulled up to our hotel somewhere around 2 AM. The next morning was a beautiful, warm, and sunny day.

The changing of the guard in WA

The Bell Tower outside our hotel

We performed here in Vancouver and then it was 5 hours back east to Moses Lake, which we had passed the previous night. This time, with daylight on our side, I was eager to grab a few shots of our mysterious drive the night before. I was surprised to find that a large part of Oregon and Washington… is dessert!

Wait, dessert or desert… 2 esses for strawberry shortcake, one ess for sand.

Desert.  That’s more like it.  Not quite as tasty, though.

A little ways on, we came upon this orderly green oasis. These indigenous “tree farms” crop up in the middle of what would otherwise be a lifeless and barren open range, providing an important habitat for many native species of wildlife, including Turkey Vultures and the Rocky Mountain Wood Tick. It’s as natural as having outdoor swimming pools in Las Vegas.

Courtesy of irrigation

Arriving at Moses Lake, Zipporah indicated that Moses had just stepped out on an important mission from God and would not be back for several days, something about plagues and hardened hearts, but that we were welcome to enjoy his lake.

Peering through the branches at Moses Lake

As we left early the next morning, I realized I had left my headphones behind. But no worries. Our friend at the theater Fed-exed them to me later in the week for a small fortune.  So it was 3 hours back west to Everett, WA, just north of Seattle. This time, we drove along I90. These pictures were taken from a scenic overlook at Ginkgo State Park on the Columbia River. I want to say it was called Wild Horse Scenic Gorge, but I can’t seem to verify that on the internet. And if it’s not on the internet it must not be true.

The alleged Wild Horse Scenic Gorge

The alleged Wild Horse Scenic Gretchen

We played our final show in Washington and then it was on to Redding in Northern California. This was a return visit for us and we were warmly welcomed.  I like North California – the people, the terrain, the spirit.  We have many ideas about California as defined by L.A. or San Francisco, but California is so much greater than those small urban areas which receive all the attention. We were surprised to learn that there was a movement in North California (which tends to be more conservative) to secede from Southern California (which tends to be less conservative) in an effort to reverse the financial and moral hemorrhaging due to liberal ideologies.  This difference in philosophy was made very clear to us.  On our way through Northern California we pulled off to a small gas stop with an old wood-plank cabin feel to it.  The small building housed a little eatery, a squat, black, pot belly stove, some grizzled old-timers, and some right wing bumper stickers affixed to one wall, declaring such things as,

“If God didn’t want us to eat animals, why did he make them out of meat?” 

So TRUE!

and

“Guns kill people like spoons made Rosie O’Donnell fat.”

Point well made.

This stalwart, independent spirit is in stark contrast to the liberal, entitlement spirit we found in Sacramento.  Marriage “rights” proponents were protesting the passage of Proposition 8 while flaunting their sin on the sidewalks.  Citizens are not allowed to protect themselves by bearing arms. The environment is worshipped as god.  To the North California movement I say, “Fight on, brothers.”

We spent a few more days in Sacramento, then Bakersfield before completing our route through the Golden State.

We have traveled through the deserts of CA, NM, and AZ many, many times, but I still like to take pictures of the dry landscapes, rock formations, and looooong trains.

Contrary to popular belief, there is water in the desert… occasionally

Just an itty bitty part of a much longer procession

In Needles, AZ, in the Mojave Valley, we stopped for gas and asked an attendant where we could find some lunch. I suggested mexican since there exists a large mexican population.  And you have to really try to make bad mexican food, so it’s a pretty safe bet. The attendant suggested Roberto’s Taco Shop (1004 E Broadway St, Needles, CA 92363). We had second thoughts as we viewed the exterior, but were pleasantly surprised by the simple goodness of the meal. I would get into a full review but I have more ground to cover here. Suffice it to say that, should you be traveling through Needles and desire a bite to eat, Roberto’s is a fine choice. It was while we were waiting for our lunch that I called my mom. Asking what she was up to, fully expecting her to be at home in Massachusetts, she informed me that she was hiking at the Grand Canyon. Well, what a surprise! We were only 4 hours from the Grand Canyon and everyone had been looking for an excuse to visit. A short while later, as the sun was beginning to set, we pulled up to one of the greatest formations on the planet.

That’s not so grand!

A peachy sunset

Alex, being very hands-on, was not content to view the canyon from the top down

Jeremiah was not to be left out

One last picture of the tree line as we headed in for dinner with mom.

From here we went to Oklahoma City to spend the night with Bill’s folks before heading to Dallas to film a Christmas special for Daystar featuring the AMB with their Grandma Jane. Be sure to catch the cooking segment and Grandma Jane’s pecan pie. It is to die for; I tasted it and barely lived to tell the tale. I believe it is to be aired December 22nd, but you should call Daystar to make sure. For another look at this leg of our trip, visit http://anniemosesband.com/features/the-week-in-review-deluxe-extended-edition-111508/.

Next time, back on the East Coast.

Through all these varied terrains there is one thing that I continually see. And that is the back end of our trailer trawling behind the truck ahead of us. It’s like that garden gnome on the Travelocity commercials – always the same gnome, just different locations.

Driving through Eastern North Carolina

It’s in all my pictures. Like the guy who can’t take a picture without his thumb being in the way. It’s etched in every memory I have of our trips. They’ll say to me, “Remember that church out in San Diego?” And I think, “I remember the trailer on the way out.” I have spent many, many hours staring at it. I know all it’s scratches and scrapes. I know the way the trailer door buckles in slightly. I sometimes see faces in it.

Traveling through West Texas at sunrise

It’s become like the Star of Bethlehem to me. I follow it on good faith, unceasingly. When it takes a wrong turn, I take a wrong turn (note that the Star of Bethlehem never took a wrong turn). When it makes an illegal U-turn at a busy intersection, I usually wait until it is safe, then make an illegal U-turn (which the Star of Bethlehem would NEVER do).

Crossing California’s Mojave Desert

And like the Star of Bethlehem, it brings good news. It is a symbol of all that we do, everywhere we go. Of everything that it takes for us to perform, bringing music to you and glory to the Lord. From sea to shining sea.

Somewhere in the middle of a torrential downpour

But I digress. What I’ve found is that most people find a few things in their lives that bring them comfort each day, whether it is sitting down with the Bible in your favorite chair, or watching Fox News, or stroking your pet dog. But on the road, constancy like this can be a difficult thing to attain. What I began to notice was that the AMB had found two places of constant refuge throughout the United States.

I realized quickly that these two places have become their “homes away from home,” destinations they look towards eagerly, longingly, on our lengthy excursions. All of this was foreign to a Yankee like myself, who’s used to Dunkin’ Donuts and IHOP (that’s international fare), though I do admit, the fire burning at the Cracker Barrel is often a welcome sight. I firmly believe that if the Annie Moses Band were to stop frequenting the Cracker Barrel, multiple locations in multiple states would quickly find themselves bereft of business and stocks would plummet.

So it is that we stop, sometimes 6 or 7 times a day, at these two businesses, warming ourselves by the fire, filling our bellies with southern cuisine, treating ourselves to iced teas and frozen coffee drinks while stretched out over comfortably hip furnishings, checking our email. Here we find refuge from the confined capacities of our vehicles. If you frequent these places, we may just run into each other one day. If we do, I’ll have a tall medium roast, black.

Enjoy!

Scott

Do I look worried?