The lure of the open road and all paths traveled

I'm a road tripper — Willie Nelson's “On the Road Again” is one of my faves.

“On the road again;

Goin' places that I've never been;

Seein' things that I may never see again;

And I can't wait to get on the road again.”

There's something about packing up life — leaving all the responsibility and familiarity behind and eyeing that pavement laid out like a portal to new worlds. No obligation, just passing through. Love it — or not — and leave it.

In our family circle, we recently had two separate road trips, each involving a mother and daughter and each with its own personality. Which is the great thing about the “open” road — it can be whatever you want it to be. Terry and I traveled with our Sweet P friends — both named Phyllis; mom is 97 — east to Missoula and then dipped south along Idaho's Salmon River to Stanley and the Sawtooth Mountains.

No one had been to the Bison Range. It was nearing closing time — smoke haze erasing the “Big Sky” for which Montana is known. Part of the herd was along the dirt touring road — as well as in the road. No chance of us breaking the rules and climbing out for an even closer look after seeing that grandpa flipped by the bison in Yellowstone. A bonus was a bull elk standing motionless below us in the grasses along the river.

Phyllis the elder — Sweet P 1 — discovered she liked “trees on my mountains” as we entered sagebrush terrain the following day. Mountain Village Lodge in Stanley, spread out beneath those soaring Sawtooths, was the perfect getaway, lumpy mattress and all.

The “elderly” were not recommended to bathe in the hot springs pool, but there was no reason that I couldn't go look at dawn when the friendly employee was unlocking it. Wow! A soak in the water with a view of the river and mountains out of the open end. What else I loved about that sunrise saunter was the winding path through the sage leading to the winding path of river and the feeling of two trails before me. God is so good to give options.

Sun Valley was a quick afternoon trip — the Sweet Ps were not at all impressed. They had no interest in exploring the “man-made” beauty of the resort. However, a See's Candy sign on a corner shop in Ketchum practically blew our brakes — and that is how we saw the inside of Bellissimo. The sand hill cranes in the marsh on the return to our lodging created more stir than had the world-famous ski town.

Fire closed our planned route home. The unexpected detour led us through a tiny town where Sweet P 2 had a friend from her teens. “Anytime you find yourself near friends or family, stop!” I urged her. That delay put us in Grangeville, Idaho — our final night — on the late end of day — hungry. The Rib Guy BBQ owner had just closed his kitchen, having been at it for twelve hours. Unheard of, he opened back up for us.

I guess you'd say we had a “sedate” road trip, but it satisfied us. Our daughter and her teen daughter were another story. They took off the following week to see Montana. They traveled fewer miles, but they whitewater rafted, and took a four-hour trail ride on horseback up a mountainside. In Glacier, they were smart enough to drive Going to the Sun in the evening to look for bears. They saw five, including a grizzly with her two cubs. They, too, returned home satisfied.

The open road: Destination to be decided. Level of difficulty: Suitable for all ages. Rating: From attentive to adventurous. Satisfaction: Guaranteed. 

Carol Shirk Knapp is the author of "The Preacher's Kid" column.