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While Norway, France and Switzerland were some of the many fascinating places I visited this year, the trip from Portland to Chicago amazed me the most. My mother and I left Portland in June as I hauled some of my belongings off to Chicago. We drove the trail Lewis and Clark blazed over a hundred years ago. We followed the trail from Portland, Oregon until it turned south in Bismarck, North Dakota. A few days later, I was in Saint Louis at the start of the trail. I travelled in a week what Lewis and Clark struggled with for a year.
Even more thought provoking is the contrast provided by the overnight flight from Portland to Chicago. I commuted. Numerous weekends, I literally commuted between Portland and working in Chicago. I would finish a lovely Sunday evening with my daughters and neighbors in Portland, tend the garden and go to the airport. I’d sleep for about three hours and arrive in Chicago at 5:30 am, in time to show up for work at Loyola. An arduous trip that took most of a year last century, I commuted almost every other weekend. The routineness of the trip made me realize, I probably cannot comprehend what life will be like for my daughters if they live a hundred years.
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