Before we left on this trip, a lot of people warned me that driving through Western Kansas would be the stuff of recurring nightmares and repressed memories. Though I went in with sufficiently low expectations, I was delightfully surprised by the scenery. It's open and wide and I completely understand why every town here seems to have been home to yet another astronaut; the sky is almost intimidatingly huge, unlike anything visible in Massachussetts. Maybe that's an unfair generalization. Western Mass is pretty open, I guess. But there's not nearly this vastness anywhere near Wellesley, and as such I'm trying my best right now to fully appreciate it. Perhaps most exciting is that tomorrow we're driving on to Montana--the original Big Sky Country--to stay a night in Missoula, just a couple-thousand miles up the Missouri River from Our Fair Kansas City. From then, we're going to Oregon and eventually NorCal, where we're visiting my unbelievably wonderful siblings and their families.
I packed my notebook, two cameras, three lenses, and nine rolls of film to document our journey like an over-zealous new parent. Maybe one day, a future generation of Verbecks will disappointedly find this stuff. But in the meantime...
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