polutrope: (dragon)
[personal profile] polutrope
Smeared with the strange clay of North Dakota, wet with the waters of the hot springs of Idaho, I am arrived in beautiful Kamloops, BC(actually, surprisingly enough, with my New Yorker's disdain of any city that isn't New York, I'm not being sarcastic).

End of Nationals - in my thousand final, I had no edge at all on my right inside edge - the most important. I fell in the second lap. In the three thousand, I was doing fine (because everyone was being sensible and going very slowly). With three laps to go, I was in third and passing to first on the outside, when Morgan (or Megan. They're both from Michigan, they look similar, and they have similar names.) fell and took me out. So, that's three races I ended up on the ice, and one I won without trying. I would have won the meet. Those bastards.

Wisconsin - is boring. However, at some point we found an NPR station playing classic radio dramas. The first was awful, but the second was a delightfully cheesy "Adventures of Sam Spade". At the ultimate western end, there were some interesting rock formations, but that couldn't save it, especially since everyone went the speed limit.

Minnesota - Well, it was dark, so nothing I say will be fair. We drove through Minneapolis-Saint Paul, the Amazing Gas-station-less City. It seemed quite nice.

North Dakota - A large state. Fortunately, the speed limit was 70 MPH and everyone did 100. There are strange clay hill formations, similar in shape to buttes, but entirely of clay, not rock. We got off Route 94 at exit 23 and drove down the road, which was paved only with red rocks. I left the car and climbed one of the hills - with some loss of dignity on the way down, involving my butt and the clay. I had to fight every step of the way - the clay would crumble under my weight. Eventually I was forced to stick my foot into a snowy crevasse and go on all fours. At the top, I had an intense feeling of isolation. My car was a long way down. All I could see on the horizon was more hills of the same type I had climbed. The sibilant wind that swirled around my head was the only - faint - sound. I half-expected to meet a rattler on the way down. (I have never seen so many "Exit - no services" signs in my life.)

Montana - Another huge state. I drove almost two hundred miles, into the ugly, functional town of Butte. My restrictive parents wouldn't let me do 90. We stopped in Missoula, which I actually liked, a little, for lunch, then turned off 94 to US 12, a tiny road that runs through Lolo Pass. Needless to say, it was mountainous. The Rockies are gorgeous, if a little distant. Every five miles we would come to another "Lewis and Clark path" sign. They tended to be along the lines of "they looked at this pass once and decided not to go through it."

Idaho - Our only speeding ticket. In a tiny town. It was stupid. Before that, we had to come out of the Rockies, on a very, very twisty road (which I drove about ten miles of, into the sun, in light rain). Our top speed was about 60. We stopped at a hot spring, which was about half an hour's walk from the road. It was amazing. The water came out of a rock steaming, and fell into a pool which was too perfect to be natural. The pool was oval and had a gravel bottom. All around us were spruce trees that stood like druids of old, with beards that rested on their bosoms. The air was fresh and crisp, and I, who can freeze in seventy degrees, was comfortable in only a tee-shirt. Overall, although it was a bit long on the bloody country road we took, I think Idaho passes.

Washington (I) - Once again, dark. We went through Walla Walla, notable only for its name and its status on Oregon trail.

Oregon - Dark. But there was a strange feeling around the road - almost as if we were crossing water, though no water was shown on the map. In Portland, I had my first college visit. I love Reed. The campus is gorgeous, the dorms look small but livable, there's wireless internet access everywhere on campus, it has a rural feel but is fifteen minutes away from a city (and Portland is a city, the food's decent, and most important of all, the class I attended was amazing. It was the discussion part of a Humanities 101 class, which is required. There's a core curriculum, which is a Bad Thing - it's mainly things I've already read. However, this leads to one of my favorite parts about it. Everyone was forced to be there, but they didn't act like they were. While there were definitely a few more vocal people, I am fairly sure that everyone spoke at least once. The girl who was sitting next to me was very nice - she asked at the beginning if I had applied already, then at the end if I was going to apply. I am sure that I will.

Washington (II) - Long. Seattle was one large traffic jam. It was also ugly. SeaTac (like that. No, really.) is one of the nominees for "Fakest Name in the Country."

British Columbia (ZOMG Canada!) - The border crossing was easy. They didn't even ask for ID, or ask if we were going to blow up their country (I'm not going to). We ate in Vancouver. The buttons they have in New York that are supposed to make the lights change actually work there. Once it changes, a speaker emits honking noises. I was out like a light for the rest of the trip to Kamloops. Supposedly my father drove around for forty five minutes trying to find the hotel.

Wildlife sightings
-Bison in North Dakota. I saw one slide down an embankment to join its fellows.
-Long-horn cattle in Montana. (And deer, but they didn't count.)
-Odd jay-like birds, also in Montana. Very dark blue bodies, with black crests. About the size of a robin.
-Marmots in BC. They are very cute(and fat). The US team adopted "Fred" as our mascot. There are a lot of them.
-Odd crow-like birds, also in BC. I thought they were magpies, until I realized they were blue, not black. Their tails make a fan when they fly.

Beginning of North Americans - Well, they had Junior girls warming up with Intermediate and Senior girls. There are twenty five of us. There are eighteen Intermediates. (There's three Seniors. Who cares about them?) That's forty three people on the ice rink at once. We are large people. We go fast. This is a Bad Idea. I won't tell them, since they had us warming up at 7: bloody 20 in the morning already. My races were fine. Ninth in the thousand, eighth in the five hundred. The Canadians are better than me, which I knew already, and I'm the only American in the group. In the five hundred quarters, I was knocked down by a girl who sent me flying, literally from one end of the rink to the other - all the way to the wall. I was advanced. Actually, the whole ordeal started when I foolishly agreed to be flag bearer in the opening ceremonies. That was unfortunate, since it meant standing out in the cold for forty five minutes, holding a flag and looking like an idiot. Also, further proof that I am a bad American: I started tearing up. When they sang "O Canada." It has a better melody, and the girl who soloed on the French version had a lovely voice.

Fakest name in the country, after a strong showing from "Syringa, Idaho" and "SeaTac, Washington" goes to... Tsawwassen, BC! (Cheating, but, I think, justified.)

I would just like to note that I was most likely the only one warming up to "Veglia, o donna". And doing Italian exercises in the locker room, from my book with sketchy sentences like "I left with Silvia's sister."
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Theodora Elucubrare

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