Where did we go next? Turns out I’m lousy at geography. Something I’ve put on my list of subjects to brush up on. We went through of Utah. I made a careless U-Turn in Ogden screeching tires on the hot pavement as I turned. I think it was then that little Sam, my maroon bellied conure mashed his toe on the bars of his travel house. I discovered he was limping a couple of days later and when I looked his toe/talon was puffy. Later he lost his nail (talon?). He’s fine now but then I was inconsolable. How could I be so careless? How in the world did I ever think I could make this trip and keep all the beings in my care safe? There’d been so much loss and turmoil in the last 2 years. I had no idea how Ill equipped I was to make this journey.

The first night after Eugene we found our way to Mt. Home Idaho. We stopped there because Peterson, a variable fount of info about many varied an interesting subject, told us that the area around Boise held the largest population of Basque people outside of the Pyrenees.

I have always been fascinated by the Basques, Their culture, their mysterious origins. Their language has no known relatives, So, Peterson mentioned a Restaurant in Mtn. Home, a Basque restaurant called simply enough Joes Club and Basque Restaurant. He and Johanna has eaten there several years before and inspired we should give it a try.

Alas when we called the number it was now a steak house. We ate at a diner on a back road in Mtn. Home where we were entertained by a delightful young waitress (I think they still call them that in MT Home) mated Dakota– named after her mother’s truck. Her boyfriend Dylann (with 2 NNs) was the cook. He tried to add a little pizazz to a standard dinner menu. The menu offered house made tutor tots with scrunch dressing. I ordered them as well as a “Hollywood BLT” meaning there was avocados on the sandwich. I wish Dylann well, but the tutor tots were a disappointment, big over cooked knots of in some places raw potatoes. The BLT was a big…BLT. but they, Dakota and Dylann, were wonderful. And the Iced tea was delicious.

“We brew it ourselves”, Dakota said proudly.

She, Dylan and the young woman that was sweeping up all kind of lined up at the register and waved to us as we left, wishing us well on our journey.

We stopped that night at the pet friendly motel Dakota had found for us, grouchy night clerk though.

Despite all my complaints about packing and unpacking, we were glad to leave Mt. Home. Despite Dakota and Dylann’s friendliness, Mt Home wasn’t a place we wanted to linger.

>We made our way to Rock Creek, Wyoming where we stayed 2 nights. Rested after the first night there, I find Coyote Steak house and Saloon for dinner out the 2nd night. I was glad I found it. The building was not that old, but it had the feel of something from the 1800s. Wood slat floors, a polished dark wood bar spread across 2/3 of the main room, ceiling fans kept the air moving. We’d came early evening. Already the regulars were gathering. The hostess sat us up at a booth in the bar so Zorr could be with us.

The menus were a surprise, Old Fashioned French inspired dishes. I hadn’t seen Oscar or beurre blanc sauces or chateaubriand in a long time. The food was delicious although a little under salted. Randy’s lamb was superb; my chicken Oscar was almost as good. My salad was beautifully composed with fresh vegetables and a delicious homemade dressing. Randy’s French onion soup was rich and cheesy. The wine list could have had more thoughtful and diverse but all in all a very memorable meal.