Road Trip to Sheridan

If you only go 375 miles, is it really a road trip? Random thought. Road trip just sounds like a really, really, really long trip that takes more than one day. Although, only seven hours in the car with kids feels like a really, really long time, too.

Man, I could blog about this trip to Sheridan for days, so instead of giving a blow-by-blow account, I just want to throw out some highlights here. I shot about 800 pictures, and today deleted about 300 of them as just junk. That still leaves me with about 500. That's more pictures than I have taken of Emma's birth and beyond. Is that messed up? I can't decide. Anyway, here goes:

We headed down the road Wednesday morning, and about noon we were just driving down the road, and lo and behold, we pass Martin's Cove. Holy Cow! I had no idea we would be anywhere near this historical site. So, we stopped for a few minutes to look around at the visitor's center. Kudos to Sue for taking her little family to the Cove Saturday afternoon and actually doing a little trek. I had enough mutiny on my hands from my teenager with the 30-minute detour Wednesday. I cannot imagine having to talk the kids into doing a trek on the spur of the moment, but perhaps with some preparation, they might be willing... Sue, it reminds me of all the times Dad stopped on the side of the road to take pictures of flowers and scenery, and how much belly-aching he had to put up with from us. Karma has come around and bitten me on the butt. Now, I when I take detours, my kids are giving me heck.



We stopped by the riverbank and listened to a little 10-minute history of the handcart pioneers. It's a miracle any of those people lived, and I cannot imagine having their courage, especially as those they loved died around them. Heartbreaking and uplifting all at once.

Thursday morning, at the Sheridan cemetery, to have the memorial service for Gram.


Everyone wore a little tartan plaid ribbon. Emma was the cutest in our family, although I had to laugh at Connor because he refused to wear his, and Zen secretly pinned it to the back of his collar.
A landmark, of sorts, at the cemetery. Does this have a story, anyone?

Darn it, Blogger quit loading pictures, so I'll post this for now, and either edit this post to add more pics tomorrow, or just add another post. Good night.