Seven nights ago, I posted about staying overnight in Livingston, MT, at the truck stop near the freeway. I awoke at 2:30 AM to hop the westbound Greyhound.

Tonight, I am at the same truck stop, in the same van. That is where the similarity ends. I need not wake up until 6:30 AM, a real improvement over last time. Another difference: I am not heading towards the joyous life of my son and his wife, the parents-to-be. Lots of baby excitement to the West. Instead, I am heading East, toward my elderly mom and step-dad (87 yrs) who have health and caretaker issues. It makes sense now for me to step-up until things settle down. This means leaving my camp host/grizzly bear education position, at least for now. Depending on the time I am gone, the NFS will try to hold my position. However,  I have no idea how long I will stay in Akron, Ohio, my hometown.

That was today! Yesterday, I spent a sublime 6 hours in YNP. Again, I visited the Lamar Valley, one of the places I love most–maybe it is even on my Top Five list. Anyway, I saw an amazing array of wildlife yesterday: elk, mountain goats, bighorn sheep, Osprey, moose,  2 black bears, antelope, bison. The row of 10,000-foot peaks that give rise to the Lamar River displayed a fresh coat of snow.  The sky stayed a brilliant blue and the air temps hovered in the low 70s. Perfect Spring day in the shadow of the Absaroka Wilderness.

I felt at peace with the world and deeply happy. Have you ever felt so deeply at peace that you can whisper to the universe: it is okay if I go now; I have found what I seek. My life has been good. That was the peace I felt that day.

Half-way home, a call came in from a brother, but I lost cell service around a corner and dropped the call. I had about 18 miles until I reached Mammoth Hot Springs and the next cell tower. A call like this is never good news, and I spent those miles brooding about what might have happened back in Akron.

Finally, in town, I returned the call. Not the worst news, but severe enough: medical crises and related issues. We decide that I can help. Pack, disconnect sewer line, hitch up, find storage for the camper, explain it all to the NFS, drive to Livingston.

So here I am, at the truck stop in Livingston, MT, ready to jump on I-90 East when a new issue comes up with the van. Things are supposed to come in threes or in multiples of threes, as I learned as a minister. I am into the multiples at about 6 dramas now in 2 weeks. This time, the van. I have Verizon Hum, a unit that plugs into the check engine light receptacle under the steering column, and it alerts me about any problems. As I neared Livingston, the alerts rolled in as a text and email. Check your alternator. See a mechanic now. 

Fine! Grrrrrr. No really fine, I was smiling, it is all good. I  just kept smiling and called the highest-rated Livingston auto mechanic that I find on YELP. Done. Then I settle into my spot at the truck stop, and I will find American Auto in the morning.

As I await sleep, I reflect. Heading East?! After going full-circle in Spokane last week I am heading out once again, in the exact same direction, on the exact roads, for the next 1800 miles. Can I mix it up a bit by taking scenic roads? Should I stay North on the 90 and 94, thereby skirting the underbelly of Minneapolis and the spine of Chicago? That route would also allow me to meet up with a North Dakota friend for lunch in Bismarck. Do I have the time? Or, should I cut South through Iowa and sneak onto the 80 where I can travel more closely in the footsteps of the pioneers?  Can I tolerate Iowa twice in 9 months? How about that lake-skirting stretch along Northern Illinois and Indiana?

Sleep still has not come, for the second night. I talk to Tango and scratch his rump. He loves Yellowstone and his canine patrol position. I ask him,

“What do you think? Weird stuff, huh?

Tango assures me that he is on board, ready to roll, solid and steady. He is willing to transition from Grizz Patrol to Granny Nanny. My Mom and Tango have a mutual admiration society, and last summer Tango kept a close watch on my Mom after heart surgery.

Next step: have the van checked out in the morning. Life has taken a strange turn and I am just bobbing along on the rapids.