PREV: Part 3 - The Gun

Most people I told about my trip had things to say. Those things ranged from thinking it seemed like a stupendous adventure to thinking it seemed stupendously moronic. The most common feedback was, "Wait, you're doing what?" Or "How much is the banjo worth? Why are you giving it to a kid for a hundred dollars?" Or "Do you actually know how far away Oregon is?" 

When I told my best friend Michael about the trip, he responded with near reverence, saying it sounded like a fantastic road trip. I told him he was welcome to join me if he could get the time off work (and family). Weeks later, I received a message saying that if we could stop in Salida, Colorado, his favorite place in the world, and visit his aunt and uncle, he was in. Done!

Our initial plans were fluid. Aside from visiting relatives in Salida and passing through my hometown of Fort Collins, it was all a wonderfully free-form itinerary. Below is what ended up happening:

Mon	Mike flies from Charlotte, Nc to St Louis, Mo
Tue	Drive from St Louis, Mo to Hays, Ks
Wed	Drive from Hays, Ks to Salida, Co with lunch atop Pikes Peak and where we gave a ride to a priest, a pharmacist, and a dentist who were travelling together
Thu	Full day with aunt and uncle in Salida, Co including a personal tour of the valley from Aunt Sandy
Fri	Drive from Salida, Co to Cheyenne, Wy via Estes Park and the Stanley Manor via Fort Collins w/ a Troy childhood tour capped w/ dinner at Panhandlers Pizza (my 2nd favorite, remaining, meal in America)
Sat	Drive from Cheyenne, Wy to Jackson, Wy via the Vedauwoo Climbing Area and along the Great Tetons at sunset and again at sunrise
Sun	Drive from Jackson, Wy to Burns, Or Burns being a modern-day oasis where the nearest gas station, dentist, or Walmart was more than 200 miles away
Mon	Drive from Burns, Or to Depoe Bay, Or where we saw no whales but did dip our fingers into the Pacific this was the first time either of us had ever seen the Pacific Ocean
Tue	Drive from Depoe Bay, Or to Eugene, Or for the banjo handoff
Wed	Drive from Eugene, Or to Portland, Or via a bunch waterfalls & Mount Hood capped the day with a few hours at Powell's Books (my favorite bookstore in America) and stuffed salmon at Jake's seafood (my favorite meal in America)
Thu	Mike flies from Portland, Or to Charlotte, Nc.  Troy drives from Portland, Or to Missoula, Mt after spending 3 more hours at Powells and eating stuffed salmon for lunch before heading out
Fri	Troy drives from Missoula, Mt to Badlands National Park, Sd taking my Bronco to visit its namesake
Sat	Troy drives from the Badlands home to St Louis, Mo After watching the morning sun rise over the ridged terrain

Michael and I spent 61 hours in the car and only played ten songs (not over and over but just one time, on day five). And the only reason that happened was Michael had to hear the main song from the Anatomy of a Fall movie because he could not fathom what a German Caribbean band sounded like playing 50 Cent's PIMP. Well, his true interest was piqued when I said the same German Caribbean band also covered Crockett's Theme from Miami Vice—that is what truly ended the music fast. 

I spent an additional 35 hours going from Portland to St Louis. The benefit of this final leg is that I still got in some personal reflection time, though I found I didn't need it as much as I thought I might. Grateful for that. 

One thing not mentioned above is the shooting of the gun. To retain its Guns and Banjo designation, I told Michael that before we turned the banjo over, we had to find a place to fire the .22 rifle. I assumed that while traveling through the western states, we would see a gun range we could stop at and pop a few rounds off. While we passed several ranges, none seemed inviting in that way. 

Then one day, while traveling on a winding and rutted Wyoming road, we found ourselves in the middle of nowhere, though we did pass two guys skinning a deer a few miles back. I came upon an even more meager set of tracks that led off into some hills. I took the hard right, and we disappeared into the landscape. The road naturally terminated after a bit at some fencing that marked private property. 

I'm not going to detail how long it took Mike and me to figure out how to load the gun. All that matters is we figured it out. There were some hills in front of us that we could safely shoot into. I initially worried about the gun's recoil, but it turns out the kick isn't what I needed to fear. It was the remarkably huge sound the weapon made when fired. I had no idea that such a tiny bullet could make such an untiny sound. I was expecting a tad more than a BB gun pop, but instead got a grenade-grade explosion.

After this surprise, Mike and I looked at each other, eyes wide. I pushed the gun at him and told him to hurry up and shoot because I'm sure they heard that back in Cheyenne, and the authorities were already saddling up. Mike took the gun, lined up his shot, and squeezed off the round. He pushed the gun back to me. I pulled the clip, threw it in the case, hurled it into the back of the Bronco, and we raced Dukes of Hazzard style to our seats. On the run, we scanned the horizon for the law, laughing about and reliving our tale of lawlessness for the next two states. 

NEXT: Part 5 - The Delivery