Road Trip to Snowflake

Besides scouting for a new place to live, this is the first vacation I've taken in five years. Why, you ask? Once a chemically sensitive person loses everything or gets very close to losing everything: health, home, security, confidence, money has a whole new value. I know I can lose everything again tomorrow so when given the choice of making money or taking time off which means no money, I most often opt for money. Someone recently called this the PTSD of MCS.

Many times, right up to the hour I was supposed to leave, I hesitated and had second thoughts. Finding a babysitter for Peter was a major step toward liberation. When that happened, I threw all caution to the wind and chanted repeatedly, "I need a vacation. I deserve this. Everything will be fine. This will move the plan forward rather than confine me to stagnation."

I had hoped to write posts from the road and present my experiences as a travel log for everyone to follow, but BlogSpot gave me nothing but hassle. First, it didn't like I was signing in remotely. I appreciate the security, but they need to make it more user-friendly. Once I jumped the security hoops for some reason it wouldn't allow me to create a new post. I'm baffled. Oh well. I kept a written journal and will break it into three long posts: "Road Trip to Snowflake", "I'm in Snowflake!", and "Home Bound from Snowflake".

 

 

The All-Purpose Vehicle

I’ve transformed my van into a camper. The top mattress of my twin bed serves as my bed and is luxuriously outfitted it with flannel sheets, a wool blanket, a comforter, and to top it off, a sleeping bag. With a fluffy pillow, it’s like sleeping at home. I’ve also brought a below-freezing sleeping bag (just in case), a lantern (for reading), a bucket (if needed), a tent (if required) and a pee bucket with toilet paper. For privacy I hang dark green sheets over the side and back windows, sun shields for the front window, and for ventilation I bought screening, the kind one uses for door screens that I can hang from the doors and leave the windows open. It’s not perfect, but keeps the bugs from coming in.

 

View of front at night

 

View of back at night

On top of all this I’ve filled the van with other amenities: cooler with food, plastic bag for garbage, suitcase with clothes, shoes, coats, water supply, health and beauty aids tucked into the cup holders in back, music tapes, maps and notebooks of information, and audio books. I realize now, too late, my error was getting audio CDs instead of tapes so those are useless. I wasn’t thinking. I love my van. It can take me anywhere and is now a totally self-sufficient camper. I love my van. Did I say that already?

Pee bucket and toilet paper at the back corner

 

I should talk about the pee bucket. You’ll probably think this is gross. Yeah, well, some say camping is gross, too. Going without a shower or bath for a week straight is anything but pretty. J I always need to pee in the middle of the night especially if it’s cold. I have no desire to get out of my van in the middle of nowhere half asleep, surrounded by hungry animals and unpredictable humans, walk a great distance to use facilities that are incredibly cold and not always well-maintained. I can pee in my bucket, close the lid, dump it in the morning if there is a restroom or down the toilet at the nearest rest stop. For free camping in the backwoods with no facilities, this allows me the option of camping primitively without polluting the environment with my human waste. Using the restrooms of fancy campgrounds is always a risk since they may be scented or filled with stinky people and their toxic beauty products. The pee bucket works great. Being this self-sufficient allows me the choice of where I can camp. My greatest fear is I drive over a bump and it sloshes or spills all over the van. Eeewww. It's never happened yet. Thank goodness!

After a day or two on the road, everything has a place so I always know where my supplies are and I can find them even in the dark. For security after I put up all the privacy partitions, I always keep my keys in one place so I can find them quickly, I know where the flashlight is, and I can grab my knife in an instant.

Day One: The Adventure Begins!

Miles: 725

Time:  13.5 hours

Temperature Range: 73/32

Butt Pain Level: High

Roadkill: Hwy 84 East = deer, Hwy 26 = cats

“I’m on vacation, I’m on vacation, I am so grateful, I’m on vacation”

I sang that every now and then, most often in between the Jason Mraz songs I played in my tape player. I had a hard time believing I was on vacation!

At 250 miles around eastern Oregon I noticed I could breathe for the first time in a long time. At 370 miles, my sinuses, neck, ears, and head started popping and draining. Shortly after I started getting sharp pin-pricks of pain and all seemed cleared. I nearly cried and thought, “I don’t want to go back home! Ever!”

Boise, Idaho

Once away from the coast the green disappears and all landscape turns various shades of brown. About 60 miles west of Boise, Idaho I noticed everything was beige. It took me a minute before I realized the horrible truth of my observation: even the clouds were beige. Hmmm…in the distance there was a brown haze all over everything. Is it dust from harvesting? Chemicals or pesticides from all the commercial agriculture. Smoke from a forest fire? With in fifteen minutes I had my answer…my sinuses started plugging back up, my neck and ears became congested and my lungs hurt. Then the headaches started. Smoke would cause headache and a bit of lung discomfort, but this was worse. Besides, there wasn’t any smell of smoke. Poisonous air. It cleared a little once I got into Boise, but I couldn’t wait to leave. I remember my last trip near Boise during the summer months at the height of pesticide use. The outskirts of town with all the agriculture looked toxic. I didn’t even stop to see the city.

I did stop this time. City air seemed a little cleaner and the skyline was slightly hazy but not as bad as the outskirts. The neighborhoods of Boise were really adorable with little craftsmen-style houses. I found the Boise Food Coop which was wonderful then high-tailed it out of town. On the way out I passed a superb Whole Foods but it was already getting dark and I had yet to find a campground for the night.

Campgrounds

Campgrounds are a problem for those of us with chemical sensitivities for any number of reasons. Those issues include campfire smoke, scented restrooms, neighbor stink (perfumes, bug sprays, shampoos, etc.), and exhaust from idling vehicles. I try to find remote, primitive, undesignated, or dispersed sites. These are campgrounds without any kind of facilities, unmarked nor advertised by signs, often on BLM (Bureau of Land Management) land, and FREE! They are well-kept secrets although there is some information on their location online at www.freecampsites.net/usa/ and some at the BLM website.  It’s a first come, first serve system and everyone is expected to take their garbage with them as well as have some kind of system for waste and waste removal. I have found the campsites are usually obvious and designated with a place for a campfire with stones or burnt logs, but I think if you get way up into the backcountry this might not be the case. Most of these sites aren’t big enough for a trailer or RV. Although you might be able to find enough online information on a campground to guide you there, most information is from other campers on route, information centers, and even local RV campground personnel who know of free alternatives.

Besides lack of facilities, the only negative is the seclusion and possible lack of security. Sometimes you are the only person there and for a single, female this can be disconcerting to say the least. I lock myself in my van with coverings on the windows. My keys are always kept in the cup holder where I can find them fast, my shoes ready, my knife handy, and I have really good hearing. At any sign of trouble, I’d be outta there in a flash.

The benefits of this seclusion are less people which means less stink and that includes campfire smoke. The campsites at these primitive locations are usually spaced far apart as well.

In a pinch, due to poor planning or as part of the plan, I will go to a state park or RV campgrounds. They are expensive, anywhere from $12 to $38 depending on the facilities, and they are often crowded depending on the time of year. This trip is during the fall which is considered off-season, but there is no off-season for RVers who live in their RV full-time. Again, most primitive campgrounds can’t accommodate large trailers or RVs. Hooray! The advantages of these fancy campgrounds is they do have facilities such as restrooms and at the “resorts” they might even have wi-fi, showers, laundry and swimming pools. When one needs a shower after a week of camping, you can always find an RV resort. If you are on the road for a long period of time, I'm sure that laundry would be god-sent.

The first night I had a choice between a nearly-free campground in Gooding, Idaho ($5) or one someone told me about in Glenns Ferry, Idaho. I decided whichever sign I saw first, that’s where I’d check. Unfortunately the first sign was Glenns Ferry, 72 miles south of Boise and it was pitch black dark when I arrived. The air in Glenns Ferry smelled like a forest fire so I worried. I found the campground at Three Island Crossing. They have around 80 sites, but more than half of them were closed for off-season and the rest of the sites were full. Still, the smoke smell was strong and most of the campers had fires going. I was pretty sure I had already passed my Gooding option so I thought I’d head to Twin Falls to find a hotel. Unfortunately it was already 9pm and my options were running out. Hotels/motels worry me. Would they be clean enough? If they allow animals or smoking in any of the rooms, I’d have problems. Is this even an option at all? If the room was toxic, I could always sleep in the van in the parking lot as a last resort.

Back on the freeway and ten miles beyond Glenns Ferry I saw the sign for Gooding!! It was located eleven miles off my path along highway 26 and I wasn’t sure if there would be sites left at that hour or if I could find it in the dark of night. There are no street lamps on any of these country roads and I was heading into backwoods country. The adventure begins. I love a good adventure, but usually after it happens.

The directions I got online said to find the fairgrounds and the campgrounds are right next to it. Could I find the fairgrounds? No. By this time it’s 10pm. I stopped in a store and asked. She told me to look for the large sign. Someone else said, go over the railroad tracks and at the bottom of the hill it’s on the left. If I get to the river, I’ve gone too far. I never did see the fairground sign, but I did find the campground. It's a small RV campground used during fair season. $15 for RV hook up, $5 for tent. I paid for a tent but couldn’t see where the tent area was due to lack of lighting. And I’m the only person there. I parked under one of the few lamps and crawled into my very warm bed. Total silence.

Photo taken the next morning

 

At first I was a little nervous. A woman all alone out in the middle of no where camping at a deserted campground at the edge of a redneck town. Great. As I started to panic I thought of all the chemically sensitive people who do this every night. Many of them are single women. I’ve read they say the first night of homeless camping is the hardest. I felt like such a whiner. A very lucky whiner as I still have a place to call home. I relaxed and felt humbled. Then I thought of that single chemically sensitive woman who was camping in her car and murdered at one of the campgrounds. I put that out of my head. I needed to trust my fate.

 

All alone. No one was in that trailer.

The amenities here left little to be desired. The bathrooms are at the fairgrounds about a mile away. There is a shower but there is no way I’d ever strip naked and get into that dark, dingy stall. Eewww!  It reminded me of the restrooms of my nightmares without the fecal matter all over the toilets. There are three train tracks about a block away and at least once an hour between 2am and 7am a train passed complete with whistles. I grew up on a farm with train tracks nearby so I felt right at home, although it didn’t help me sleep. My sinuses were congested all night and in the morning I detected a faint smell of sage. I don’t do well with sage. And this is agriculture country. I conclude Idaho is a cesspool of commercial agricultural poisons. I won’t be living here anytime soon. I left at dawn. The town was beautiful in the morning light.

Day Two:  The Desert Nomad Camper

Miles: 477

Time: 9 hours

Temperature Range: 73/57

Butt Pain Level: Medium

Roadkill: Badger?

My goal today and for the next two weeks is to find a campground before it gets dark. At 4pm I start looking and by 5pm I should be settled. I had one picked out a little north of Salt Lake City but decided since it will only take about four hours to get to Salt Lake City I’d attempt to go farther and see if I can find something else. I know with time I get better at traveling. It takes a day or two to figure out the system.

 

Salt Lake City, Utah

I stopped at the Whole Foods in Salt Lake City and asked someone on the elevator. He said go to Moab where there are a lot of parks and geological sites. It's is only 4 hours away from Salt Lake City. Salt Lake City was beautiful with clear skies and little if any smog.

At 4pm I got a little nervous. Utah was all desert. Running out of time and the sun is about to go behind the cliffs. There are plenty of signs for RV camping but I don’t want to be surrounded by RV generators and campfires. I should have noted more of the free campsites from my online research but most said they were off unpaved roads. I don’t have a four-wheel drive so I avoided those.

I arrived just outside Moab around 4:30 and the first thing I see is “RV Campark” advertising tourist shops, historical recreations, and a heated pool. It looked like an amusement park. Not what I’m looking for but I stopped anyway. She said they don’t allow anyone to sleep in their car and if I put my tent up I’d have to sleep in it. Why? Hell, I don’t want to put my tent up and I definitely don’t want to sleep in it. She suggested I go to Willow Springs Road which is a road I just passed. It’s a BLM site! I thank her and left. A woman followed me out and told me she camps there all the time. Lots of sites, very quiet, safe, and free.

 

She was right. There are quite a few people here but the sites are about 50 feet apart so even if they do have campfires, I doubt if they will affect me. Very quiet. And free. Hooray! Perfect camping. The road in was a little nerve wracking: deep sand. I was afraid I’d get stuck so I didn’t venture too far into the backcountry. The desert was beautiful with the mountains in the background. The campers here are friendly and wave as they ride by on their mountain bikes, dune buggies or dirt bikes.

In the middle of the night I could hear wind and rain, but it’s pretty warm. I came from the coast which has been dark, rainy and cold. I think it’s the only place in the country not in the 70s right now…I’m so motivated to find a new place to live.

Day Three: Dodging Tumbleweeds

Mileage: 297

Time: 9 hours

Butt Pain Level: Low

Temperature Range: 65/

Roadkill: Tumbleweeds

All night my sinuses burned and were congested. I have no idea why. Desert dust? I was hoping the higher elevation would miraculously cure me, but I guess not. I drove out of the campsite around 8am, as soon as it was light enough to see.

Sunrise in Moab
(Why do spectacular clouds remind me of Evelyn?)

Moab, Utah

Moab is a wonderful little town. There is a paved bike trail all along the highway from the desert into town. I was told it was built to get the mountain bikers back to town safely as so many of them were knocked over by semi-truck draft. Although I was planning to drive right through Moab, I ended up getting information at the Information Center which is filled with good stuff and a very helpful person. Then I walked around, looked at their little health food/coop, used the wi-fi and considered moving there. I was told the townspeople are very health oriented due to all the hiking, biking, rafting, etc., BUT in the old days uranium was mined in them there beautiful hills so there is concern the environment is contaminated. Hmmm…a bit discouraging, but no one seems to be affected by this. I'd like to come back here and spend a week hiking. Really beautiful geological formations.

I headed to Durango. There is a storm rolling in and the warning is wind. High wind. I spent the next couple hours dodging tumbleweeds that were rolling out of the fields and over the highway. At times there were so many it was like a stampede. Some of them were small and my van wheels crushed them, but others were huge and sounded like an explosion when hit. I did what I could to avoid them.

 

Tumbleweed attack!
(Yes, I'm driving while photographing! Bad, bad tourist!)

The Colorado countryside is gorgeous and the highways are in excellent condition.

Road Condition Comparisons:

Washington = excellent/good

Oregon = excellent

Idaho = bad

Utah = mix/mostly bad

Arizona = mix/mostly good

California = exceptionally bad

I stopped for information at the Mesa Verde National Park. The Internet said the campsite was closed, but the woman said it is open but with limited services. They still want $20 a night. Wi-fi doesn’t come with that. I decided I should go find some BLM free camping first and if I couldn't, come back.

I checked with the BLM office in Durango and was given a map with two freebie campgrounds circled. Both on are the way to Silverton, a small town up in the mountains I wanted to see so I headed that way in hopes I could figure out during day light where to find the road to free camping. There are no “free camping” signs with arrows pointing the directions so one really needs to use common sense and pay attention to clues. It’s a challenge. It’s an adventure.

Lower Hermosa is about five miles north of Durango on state highway 550. Take the Lower Hermosa Road exit and head straight up the hill. The road is paved for about two miles then unpaved with cattle grates. The unpaved surface is washboard and a few times the van couldn't get traction and skidded sideways. This is why I don’t like unpaved roads with my non-four-wheeling van, that and it feels like my shocks are coming undone. The whole van shakes and I worry I’ll need to get my tires realigned. Oh well. It’s an adventure. Really beautiful campsite. And FREE…I like that best. There are bear warning signs all over so I might have company tonight.

 

Lower Hermosa campsite

Silverton, Colorado

I drove back down the mountain and headed to Silverton. Beautiful homes along the way and many ski resorts. The highway narrowed to a very thin two lane road with twists and turns. I was fine until the drop off on the right side too close to my van. My palms were sweating so badly I didn’t think I’d be able to hold onto the steering wheel and every time I put on the brakes it felt like I wouldn’t stop. I played my love song lullabies to calm my nerves. I was creeping at 20 mph up and down the mountain and I’m so glad there wasn’t anyone behind me. I’m pretty sure I was nearly there, but I panicked and turned at the first turnout. I figured if I couldn’t drive the road, it didn’t do any good to check it out as a place to live.  The day was sunny, clear and beautiful. I think if it would have started raining I would have panicked even more and froze unable to drive another inch. I can’t imagine people drive this road in the dead of winter with all that snow! There was snow on the side of the road, but the road was clear during my attempt.

Durango, Colorado

I returned and went to Durango to walk around the town. It was about 3pm and the traffic and car exhaust were unbearable. And I couldn’t breathe. At first I couldn’t figure out why walking seemed to exhaust me, then I realized it must be  the elevation. At 6500 feet, Durango is high. The ladies at the Durango information center said they have lived in Durango for over ten years and they still get nose bleeds. I always thought one would get used to the elevation. Other than the breathing issue during exertion, I felt fine.

I wasn’t impressed with the town in general although I liked the old town section and the cute little craftsman cottages in the neighborhood behind it. Lots of stone and brick houses. The real estate prices are too high, higher than my budget will allow. There is definitely too much traffic and car exhaust for my taste. Although it has services and amenities, it’s too big with a serious case of urban sprawl. I’d rather live in a small town with the amenities close by.

It’s supposed to snow tonight!! I’ll be thankful to make it down the mountain in the morning!

Day Four: Wildlife - It's a Zoo Out There!

Mileage: 235

Driving Time: maybe 4 hours

Butt Pain Level: Nothing

Temperature Range: 40s/38

Roadkill: mule deer

I didn’t wake up to snow as expected, or bears – I woke up to wolves. Two big dogish looking wolves.

Last night after I went to sleep I woke up to a loud crash and men running through the woods with flashlights yelling. Unnerving to say the least. I had no idea what was going on, but I always find it’s in my best interest as a lone female to just keep quiet and pretend I’m not awake. No one needs to know a woman is in that van all alone and vulnerable. Let them assume it's two burly men....with firearms and black belts in self-defense.

 

The next morning I’m organizing, dressing, and getting ready to leave and I see two large canines milling about my van. They are watching the guys who were making the racket last night. I could see the men, one was in his sleeping bag on top of the picnic table and the other was sleeping on the ground. They were driving a small white car. These animals looked like wolves only one of them had dog markings. I know a little about wolves, but I didn't recognize this species. I assumed Colorado had a hybrid species I wasn't familiar with. When the wolves left, I could hear the guys talking. I was out of my van brushing my teeth ready to leave and I got curious so I walked over for a visit.

 

“Did you see those animals? Were they wolves?”

The ground-sleeping man who was by this time out of his sleeping bag explained they weren't wolves but hybrids, half wolf/half dog, wolves bred with Malmutes to be exact. Oh great. One of the breeds most likely to attack. He went on to apologize for last night. It seems after they parked the car, it slipped gear and ROLLED BACK INTO THE OTHER CAMPSITE!! I almost camped in that site and changed at the last minute! The crash I heard was the car hitting and pulverizing the picnic table.

The wolf-dogs were cabled to the car, the cable broke when the car rolled, and they ran. Do you blame them? The men couldn’t catch them.  He said the hybrids get loose all the time and he doesn't seem to have any control over them. Idiot. First, because he tied the dogs to the car which is dangerous to the dogs, and second, because he is too stupid to train them to come on command.

As I’m talking to this guy, the other who was still in his sleeping bag on the picnic table is climbing out. Both look homeless rather than campish and I felt my instincts giving me warnings. I kept my distance. I listened to the man whine about how he has no idea what to do with them and they act like wolves. In other words, they are smarter than their owners. I gave him the short version of my lecture on the responsibility of training dogs so they will come on command and the intricacies of owning a wolf. He continued to whine about being over his head and I just wanted to scream Stupid people shouldn't be allowed to own dogs, but hybrids!? Really? I wished him luck and excused myself. I had a feeling I needed to get away from them quickly. Later I reported them to the BLM office. If anything someone should go up there and help catch the dogs and ideally put the stupid dog owners in jail.

I headed to Pagosa Springs. The countryside on the way was beautiful. The highway was littered with mule deer carcasses. The thing about Colorado is all the wildlife and wildlife warnings. Signs like “Wildlife Zone, Double Fines, Oct.1 – Jun-1, 5pm – 7pm” or flashing “Wildlife Detection Warning” which is scary. I'm driving down the highway convinced something is waiting to jump out in front of me. Also, elk signs. This is much worse than where I live. We have a road I call “Suicide Highway” because the deer are always jumping out and causing wrecks. Just last month I saw a deer run across the highway just behind my van and the car behind me hit it. It was horrible.

Pagosa Springs, Colorado

I had read Pagosa Springs has really great air quality. Unfortunately, it looked like a large strip mall. I expected a quaint little country town with a main street. Major disappointment.

Bayfield, Colorado

This little town is just west of Pagosa Springs about twenty miles east of Durango. It was adorable with an old style main street complete with wild west style buildings, little homes, bigger homes on the hill, more modern facilities down the road. Perfect. I looked at real estate prices. Not so perfect. Real estate is still too high even out in the middle of nowhere. Three acres for $99K.

 

 

On the way back to Durango I discovered Nature’s Oasis, a health food grocery store. Noosa Yogurt made in Colorado. Oh, yum. I found this yogurt in Arizona and California, too. Having an adequate health food source only fifteen minutes away makes Bayfield perfect...if it wasn't for the real estate prices.

Drove to Mesa Verde through a blizzard and took the Cliff Palace tour in a hail storm. I’ve always wanted to see these ruins, but always thought they were in New Mexico. Thank you, Urfa, for the head's up. Saw a tarantula there. So cute and creepy all at the same time.

 

 

Then I went to the Spruce Tree House which is on another cliff:

 

Driving that road down the mountain in the hail and fog was not fun. I played my love song lullabies and hummed along to calm my nerves.

One of the rangers at the park told me about a BLM campsite nearby. Just past Mancos, turn left for Echo Basin. At three miles in, look for the posted camping rules and camp anywhere. Quiet, secluded, non-toxic and beautiful. I got there early, typed, read my book, looked at my maps and with little else to do, went to bed early. I laid there for hours thinking, unable to sleep.

 

 

Day Five: The Longest Night of My Life

Time: 12 hours

Butt Pain Level: Low

Temperature: 50/26

Road Kill: Horses

After laying awake for hours and finally falling asleep, I awoke around midnight thinking it was dawn because everything was so light. SNOW. Two to four inches and cold! Not just cold, but frozen solid to the ground, the trees and my van. I couldn’t get back to sleep worrying about how I was going to get off the mountain. If it started snowing again with the warmer morning temperatures, I'd be stuck.

 

 

I started doing the Secret right away:

“I am so grateful for traction!”

“I am so grateful for clear roads!”

“I’m so thankful I’ll be in Arizona tomorrow, or rather, today later on!”

 

Yep, driving and photographing while negotiating snow and ice.
Am I insane?

 

It worked! My tires gripped the ice on the road, the highway was clear, and eventually that day I ended up in Arizona. Once I made it to the highway in the dark, I headed to Cortez eighteen miles away, found a Denny’s that had wi-fi, ate scrambled egg, thanked the powers-that-be I didn’t create any roadkill, and waited for dawn.

Arizona

I left Cortez around 7:30am for Arizona eager to find sun and maybe warmer weather.

 

I stopped at Four Corners to stand at the intersection of four states.

 

 

Not sure it was worth the $3.00 for the admission. All around the monument were booths for Navajo artists, maybe 100 in total. On this cold, fall day, there were only 5 people with their merchandise. Off season. I really need to stop doing tourists attractions during off-season. It’s not worth it.

The scenery on the Navajo Reservation is gorgeous. I'm pretty sure you need to be Native American and especially Navajo to live there.

 

In some areas the dirt is a bright red/pink with bright green plants. Outstanding. The roads were beautiful, lacking traffic, flat and begging for a bike ride.
 

Clouds for Evelyn

 

The great thing about desert driving is you can see ten miles of road in front of you straight through the flat landscape. I felt tears welling. I felt like I had arrived home. Only one other time in my life I felt like this and it was when I moved to Arizona. I had high hopes for Snowflake.

 

Navajo horses were roaming freely on the side of the road. One was in the other lane watching me approach. I slowed to a crawl so afraid it would jump in front of the van. I couldn't imagine hitting a horse with my car. I honked trying to get it to move off the road. It just stared at me. As soon as I past, it trotted across the road and galloped into the desert. So weird. This wasn’t the only one as I encountered many horses wandering freely on the side of the road as well as one huge pig and a lone cow. Strange. Single cows all alone with no cow friends in sight always upsets me. That's just wrong. Did his cow friends kick him out of the club? Is he sick? Is he lost or bewildered? It's wrong.

 

I was feeling very positive until I reached I-40. Big black clouds hung over the freeway. They opened up dumping rain and snow on the very crowded roadway and the strong winds made all that water go sideways. Scary.  It was very cold. (No, I didn't take photos while driving this time. I could barely keep the van from blowing off the road. Not sure why that would stop me.)

 

On to Snowflake...