The Journey West

Cloudy skies through Virginia, but it was too early in the morning to really think clearly anyways.
Besides, the kittens had bigger things to worry about: Why am I here? What is this bouncing that won't stop? And why won't anyone pay attention to me?
Storms in Missouri.
This is, by now, the second leg of our journey. Having left Indianapolis that morning, Kirsten took over the driving somewhere just east of Kansas City. There aren't many photos of her because she wouldn't let them be taken, so this is her ninja photo: stealthy.
Kansas was green, until it got dark. Then it wasn't so much fun.

After having driven the 22 hours from Indiana to Colorado, Diego was quite understandably in no mood to move quickly.
Timur faceplants into a bunch of cinquefoil and skypilot.
Timur and Judy wondering if they were going to ever catch Mike.
Nope. Here Mike has realized that he can indeed walk all the way down to the Eisenhower Tunnel from Loveland Pass, but is talked out of the project when everybody else realizes that this will entail them walking all the way down the wrong side of the ridge. A couple of days later, Kirsten and Timur set an ambitious day for themselves: Drive to 12,000 feet, park, and walk two miles (if you were feeling generous).
Product placement.
It's partly the case that Timur is a camera-whore; partly the case that it's Kirsten's digital camera and she's reluctant to let him take photos of her. But mostly Timur mugging for the camera. Again.
For those of you counting at home, this is a Mountain Hardwear Skyledge 2.1. It has 22 square feet of vestibule space, and roughly the same amount of space inside. It's a lovely tent - just a shade over 4 lbs. all packed - but not the sort of thing you want to recommend to big burly folk. It is, as one might say, a bit narrow in the shoulder. But a lovely little thing, and the view wasn't too bad for less than an hour's hike. Saddest. Kitten. Ever. After 11 days of clattering about Kirsten's parents' house in Evergreen, the kittens were a bit nonplussed at the whole small cage in a moving vehicle experience happening again.
Luckily, there was a ninja to keep them company.
The ninja in Glenwood Springs, where we stopped to have lunch with Betsy.

Mister ninja taking a rest on Timur's shoulder. This is still early on in the drive, where Timur feels fairly good about things.

Utah doesn't have rest stops - it has viewing points. Here, Timur is beginning to remember why he took three days to drive the stretch from Colorado to California last year. The ninja is trying to convince him that it's a great idea to keep driving.
After all, a 16 foot moving truck is nimble, and once it gets enough momentum going downhill, it's remarkably fuel efficient.
And driving through Utah is a pretty scenic experience.
Kirsten took over driving in Salina, leaving Timur free to try to snap some shots of the evening sun. The nice thing about southwest Utah is that everything is quite literally downhill from there as you come off the Colorado Plateau. Problem is that that downhill doesn't actually mean the distance you have to drive is any less. Kirsten hauled the stretch from Salina to Vegas, and Timur drove the last short four and a half hours from Vegas to LA. Besides being stopped by the CHP at the agricultural inspection station and having our blueberries confiscated by an earnest officer at 2 in the morning, that last leg went as well as a leg can go when you've been driving for eighteen hours. And at least traffic was light at that time of night.

Coming soon: stories from Koreatown - we move in to our place on the 15th!