My journalism journey, part 15
Living out west gave me a chance to explore many beautiful areas outside of Anaconda, too. My best friend, Roxane, was an integral part of that.
Roxane and I met during our freshman year in college. We lived on the ninth floor of Stevenson South tower on Northern Illinois University. She roomed with another person, named Beth. My roommate, Debbie, and I, became friends with Roxane, and soon became inseparable. The following year, we moved over to Lincoln Hall. Our junior year, we moved onto a coed floor together, but Debbie and Rox roomed together and I had a single room. In our senior year, we moved off campus into a rooming house.
After college, Rox and I rented an apartment together in Oak Park, Illinois, until she decided to move in with her boyfriend. But we still remained best of friends, and Rox was the person I always turned to for advice. When I got the job in Anaconda, she threw me a going-away party. And she managed to come out just about every year to see me.
Roxane was a heavy-duty outdoors person. She was a member of the Sierra Club and took a trip or two a year with them. Sometimes it was a service trip, because that saved money. From my first year out, she took a Sierra Club trip, then we got together to explore some part of the west.
The first year, after my dad died, my mom and my Aunt Jo came out to visit. So did Rox, the same week. We planned to go to Yellowstone National Park. About the same time, a father and son abducted a hiker in the area, hoping to marry her to the son. Aunt Jo became afraid that we'd be kidnapped by mountain men looking for brides.
We headed to Yellowstone via Quake Lake, a strangely eerie place made by an earthquake in southwestern Montana on Aug. 17, 1959. A lot of signs there indicated we were now in grizzly bear country. That freaked out Aunt Jo, too. Rox told her they would be more in the backcountry than where we would be, so we shouldn't worry.
We got to Yellowstone and to our cabins, which had beds and showers but no TVs. Oh well, we weren't going to be in the room too much anyway. The next day, Rox and I went on a car tour while Mom and Aunt Jo went on a bus tour. It was the best way.
Rox also came out to Salt Lake City one year and we went to tour Canyonlands National Park, Arches National Park, Hovenweep National Monument, Zion National Park, Mesa Verde National Park and other sights in the Four Corners area. In Canyonlands, we took a four-wheel drive tour to see spectacular areas in the red rock formations.
Rox also wanted to go to some place called Tuba City, Arizona, which was supposed to have inexpensive Native American jewelry. We spent a few hours driving down there, only to find one store with jewelry (and it wasn't inexpensive). We did find one stand along the road selling some inexpensive jewelry. We also picked up a hitchhiking bee.
There was a memorable trip out to Seattle, too. I picked her up there after a Sierra Club trip, and we toured Pike Place Market and other place in the city, then headed up to Anacortes for the ferry to the San Juan Islands. We spent a day there, tried to do some whale watching, and then got back on the ferry to Victoria.
We stayed in a lovely bed and breakfast in Victoria and toured the city the next day. On the way back from Anacortes, Rox noticed some smoke from my car. We pulled over, and she looked under the hood, then under the car. I had a belt coming loose. It was dark already so nothing was open. And it was a Friday night. Another car stopped in front of us to see what the problem was. The couple promised to follow us to the next exit.
The gas station attendant told us there was a repair person over the bridge who would come out after hours to fix things. We went over there to see if he could replace the belt. He supposedly had the most belts north of Seattle.
But once we got there, the man looked and looked and still couldn't find the belt. What were we going to do? Rox needed to get to the airport for a Saturday morning flight. I had to get back to work on Monday.
The repair man offered to rent us his car so I could get back to Seattle for the night and get Rox to the airport. Then, I could come back on Saturday morning, pick up my repaired car and drive back home. All I had to do was give him a small deposit and fill up the tank when I returned.
I couldn't believe how fortunate I was. I drove Rox to the airport, went back to the motel and got a short night's sleep. The next day, I went back to the repair shop hoping my car was fixed.
But the guy couldn't find the particular belt I needed. The Ford Escort used a serpentine belt, and he could only get that belt from a Ford parts shop. Because it was a Saturday, they were all closed. None of them would open for a single purchase. Finally, the repairman took a regular belt, turned it inside-out and made it work. "It should get you home," he told me.
It did that, and more. I drove my car with that makeshift belt for at least six more months. I can't remember what that guy charged me, but I know it was much less than the trouble he went through. And the fact he trusted me with his car was outstanding.
Our trips also included one to Glacier National Park, but soon our vacations together would end. I would move on to South Dakota, and Rox would decide to settle down and have a family.
