Cannonball Final

Today is the last day of my private Cannonball Race across America. The morning sun reflected in the lake tickles me awake along with a coffee. I set off quickly, because the final stretch is over 500 miles long – at least on the Interstate. Do I really want to take it? No! It’s really dirty again today. Just small country roads, passes, gorges. Everything much further. But at the end of the day I know: it’s also much nicer.

I drive through Montana first and then come to Idaho. I smell fire again, and this time I see it right next to the road. Idaho is on fire. And not only that. Washington too. Two hours later, I pass some really big fires. The sun is dimmed and aeroplanes are circling.

The journey is long, very long. I drink more coffee than ever before in my life. It’s necessary. Always dead tired. But I want to experience you, America! Up to a ski resort. Down into a valley. Through western towns, lonely grassy plains…and finally way back up into the Rockies.

I approach the Pacific Ocean via Highway 20 north of Seattle. The road winds steeply up the mountain again, and today I finally see Big Sky. Although unfortunately no longer over Montana. The road leads directly into the clouds. The cool Pacific pushes it at breathtaking speed over the highest ridge into the dry and warm west behind the Rockies. Washington Pass is the main weather divide.

Immediately after the pass, the temperature drops by 10 degrees. It is humid. I switch on the heating for the first and probably last time. Madame Lucerne is freezing while I try to adapt to the driving style in Washington State. Everyone heats down the pass like idiots, nobody takes a dip below 20 miles over the limit. And the drivers are rare.

Azure blue mountain lakes. Fierce gusts of wind are rushing up the pass. The branches of exposed trees are all pointing east, the wind is so strong and consistent. On the way down, I pass through Cascade National Park. Only a few miles, but hundreds of waterfalls to the left and right. The forest changes from coniferous to deciduous, the bottom is pure jungle with ferns.

After just 50 more miles, I’m on the Pacific on the Interstate heading south towards Seattle. I drive back into a residential area and find an unprotected hotspot. Megan, my host for the next few days, has emailed. I am very grateful to have an address in time this time. Google Maps sends me to the wrong spot two miles away…but nice people and my mouth help. I finally arrive on time, at nine o’clock in the evening as agreed. After 14 hours and 650 miles.

In the last 14 days, I’ve travelled through almost all of America. Some states several times. I have travelled 5600 miles, or in other words an average of 640 km per day. The peak was 1200 kilometres in 16 hours. I am exhausted, exhausted and exhausted. Without Madame Lucerne, I would never have got to the really lonely places in the Midwest. But the price was high: $60 a day plus petrol. And above all, I paid with one:

It wasn’t deep travelling. I moved around a lot and saw a lot. However, what I recorded of each place is 3 lines each, not even a started second paragraph per chapter. No punctuation, and the photos in this travel guide were far too often taken in drive-by shoots. Many pages were left blank, I wanted to stay longer everywhere. Do a lot more. Above all, close my eyes for once, except to sleep for five hours. My eyes were always open. I never closed them. And therefore saw very little.

Prodigy: Breathe came on the interstate earlier. Now I’m in Seattle. I’m returning Madame Lucerne tomorrow lunchtime. I’m going to take a break for a few days. Charge the battery. I’m going to walk through this wonderful neighbourhood. Close my eyes and see. I can’t type blind, so the blog will also be dormant for a few days. Good night!