Wide Open Spaces Traces
I was on the Indiana Tollway headed for Chicago when I encountered a beehive of nuclear activity, both just south of Interstate 80 and a bit north near Rockford where I had come through two years before. The smoke was much greater and intense indicating that the activity had heated up rather than slowed down from what I had seen before. I was over my recklessness after losing Lisa and decided that it would be prudent that I went north on I-90 and then west to new territory that probably wouldn't be so filled with radioactivity. I had been lucky so far. But I didn't know how long my luck would hold out. There were no ready cures for cancer for me, even if they were simple ones like surgically removing cancerous cells from my skin.
When I got to the Tri-State Tollway, I switched to the wrong side of the road to follow the path that I had opened two years before, saving battering my truck, and now, trailer any more than it already had been. I looked, but saw no new tracks, only the faded visages of pushed away vehicles broken tollway arms and other vague evidence that I had been through there before. I made a note to myself to always take the easy way even if it was on the wrong side of the freeway.
East of Rockford, once again, I saw many groundhogs along the road. The grass was tall, approaching five feet, with no one to mow or eat it, and already, in early summer, full of seed and starting to turn brown in maturity. And there were trees, many trees, appearing in the grass, mostly less than four feet high, but reaching for the sun in competition with the grass. The groundhogs were moving out onto the pavement to get in the sun and out of the shade of the grass. I also saw snakes, mostly garter snakes, but many fox snakes as well, indicating that their primary prey, mice, were very abundant in that tall grass. Occasionally, especially in the evening, I would see deer. And I was seeing more and more, feral cattle, both dairy and beef. I expected that bear, mountain lions, and wolves were moving in to reap the rewards of nature's productivity.
I looked for abnormalities in the groundhogs, and saw some. But, for the most part, their numbers and size indicated that most were healthy and reproducing at a rapid rate without human control or enough predators to contain their numbers.
As I drove into Wisconsin, the grass was much greener and lusher than in Indiana and Illinois. I was glad to leave the radioactive cloud south of Rockford behind as well. Passing Madison, I looked to the left and noted that the dome of the Capitol remained about the same as it had been two years earlier, caved in and burned. Approaching the Peterbilt dealership, I had to cross over the wide median through tall grass to the exit. Charlie scolded me for driving off the road like that, but I laughed at his concern and was glad to find no additional tracks in the dust at the place, pretty much as I found it earlier. The trucks out front showed the effects of storm and two winters since the last time I was there. They didn't offer much by way of replacement parts.
Fortunately, inside, I found much of what I needed. I was able to charge the batteries on the forklift and go into the parts room where I found a new hood, the same bright red, to replace the hail battered one on the truck. I would have taken any color. Looking out over that dented hood just served as a reminder of that terrible storm. It wasn't easy because I had to dismantle the heavy barrier I had mounted on the front of the bumper. And the hood was quite heavy, even without the grill and headlight assembly. I had to use the overhead winches both to take the old hood off and to maneuver the new hood into position to bolt it on. A new, un-dented, grill and replacement headlight assemblies for the two headlights that were broken was a real blessing. I didn't drive much at night, but when I did, I needed to see.
The tires had only 20,000 miles on them, but were scarred from driving over many metal obstacles. It was a real chore even with the right tools, to change tires on the truck and trailer. In all, I spent four days at the dealership, grateful for all the parts I was able to replace, even though the truck was barely broken in at that mileage. Most importantly, I stocked up on fuel filters and injectors for the engine because I knew the fuel would continually get worse and I would have to replace them often.
Instead of staying on I-90 west, at Tomah, I took I-94 to Eau Claire and then, to St. Paul/Minneapolis. I did so with some trepidation, thinking about my parents, Julie, and my colleagues at the University that I could only assume had died along with all the rest in the terrible days after I left it all behind in Canada. Once again, I wondered why I had survived when so many of them, didn't. Black smoke boiling out of the Prairie Island Nuclear Generating Plant to the west of Eau Claire reminded me of why. It got to be tough going again as I passed through the middle of Minneapolis, showing the usual signs of massive fire and destruction, with all the vehicles blocking the freeway until I left town and thoughts of finding anyone that I knew in that other life, gone.
There were benefits to coming this far north. It was much cooler. There was more beneficial rain that came through about every two days. And, there were feral crops that I took advantage of. I found whole stands of wheat that I harvested to be ground later into flour. The same with oats and barley. There were lots of sunflower seeds for the taking and even some sapling apple trees with green apples on them. Once in a while, I found a long neglected garden on a neglected farm with fresh vegetables growing that I took advantage of, too.
Fargo and Bismarck came and went. Along the way, the grass grew down close to the highway and animals and birds were everywhere. Feral cattle and bison appeared eating wide swaths through the tall grass. Occasional fires, sparked by lightning, burned unabated in the distance, leaving behind the acrid smell that was so familiar to me. I had to be careful every time I stopped to let the goats graze and Charlie get some exercise, because predators were everywhere following those herds of grazing animals. I felt like I had been transported back to the Great Plains even before Indians had conquered that territory with Spanish horses. The only horses I saw now, were wild ones who looked quite healthy when they crossed the road or raced me through the tall grass alongside the road.
The prairie soon gave way to sagebrush blooming purple after every rainfall. And at higher elevations, cedar and pine trees were already regenerating the spruce and lodgepole pine forests that took over as I neared the Rocky Mountains. I began to see herds of elk and antelope, along with mule deer. Coyotes became a common sight by the road. I had to lock Charlie and the goats up tightly every night to keep them safe. The Peterbilt and the trailer made it easy. A camp on the ground would've made it hard.
Soon, the Rockies loomed ahead and I found that in spite of some sputtering from clogged injectors, my turbocharged diesel powerplant was still capable of pulling that trailer up over the high pass of the Tetons with ease. On the other side awaited the surreal high-altitude fields of Idaho. I began hankering for potatoes and pulled off at the site of the first farm and underground storage that I could find. There, I found a surprise. Tracks showing that someone had been there before me.
In another lava cave, a huge store of aging potatoes had survived the years since the farm quit operating. I had to pick through to find good ones, but I was able to get enough to carry me another year if I kept them cool so that they wouldn't sprout or rot, something that would be hard on the road. A side benefit was a lot of mushrooms that were growing on the rotted potatoes. Bats that had found their way into the cave had also contributed to fertilizing those mushrooms. Nature knew what to do in our absence. I benefited.
After a night at the farm, I started following the tracks I found there. They quickly left the interstate for a state highway that wound through the mountains and valleys for over 100 miles, passing pristine streams and lakes. And finally, turning off into a dirt road to the right. There were signs of someone cutting down any trees or grass that attempted to grow up in the road. I didn't want to drive up that narrow road with my truck and trailer into a dead-end where I couldn't turn around. And, I didn't know if I would find the people friendly or not, so I decided to walk in, however far it might be.
I decided that it would be unsafe to take Charlie with me. I didn't know how far it was that I would be walking, either, reminding myself to get a four wheel ATV for excursions like this. So, I let Danny and Lannie graze for the rest of the day and Charlie get some exercise by the truck while I prepared a pack to walk in. I spent another night there, and put Charlie in the cage in the goat enclosure with water and food for both the goats and Charlie for a couple of days the next morning. It was cool in the mountains and the trailer was well ventilated, so I didn't worry about their situation. Much safer than outside or with me. I left the truck and trailer and started down that dirt road on those tracks.
