A Journey With Cerebral Palsy

The first part of my trip was coming to a close. I had spent the first couple nights in the city of Moscow. Just across the Idaho border from Pullman. The two cities are about fifteen minutes apart. Each could be considered a small college town. Pullman is home to Washington State University. While Moscow is home to the University of Idaho. During the first leg of my two-city trip, I took some time, and visited the campus of each school. Though my visits were short, I wanted to get a feel for each campus. After driving into town from Seattle on Monday. I woke up on Tuesday morning, hoping to make an afternoon time, for golf at Palouse Ridge. I found there to be time on Tuesday afternoon at 1:00. So, I took the remainder of the morning and drove into Pullman. The day wouldn’t provide enough time for me to visit the University of Idaho, as well. My plan was to look around the Idaho campus on Wednesday morning, before leaving town. This was a trip for playing two golf courses in the state of Washington. Palouse Ridge, which is situated between the two cities of Pullman and Moscow. Then, moving on to Walla Walla and playing Wine Valley. Along with the adventures of playing golf, I also like to explore the cities, when opportunities arise. Colleges have always been interesting to me, and I like exploring them, as well. 

Following a fun day of looking around Pullman and playing golf at Palouse Ridge. Time was shot on Wednesday morning, prior to leaving town. My plan was to check out of the hotel, take a look around the University of Idaho, stop for coffee, and be on the road before 10:00. I was scheduled to play golf in Walla Walla around 1:00, that afternoon. Everything was going to plan; I was even ahead of schedule. I drove through the campus at the U of I, even parked the car for some walking. Feeling good, I made my way to the Starbucks in town for coffee and breakfast. The trip slightly shifted when I stepped out of my car for coffee. Reached into my pocket for my wallet and found it wasn’t there. A quick search of my car yielded no results. I retraced all my steps, starting with going back to the hotel. The wallet was nowhere to be found. Even with the unfortunate circumstance, I had a couple things in my favor. I had enough cash in the car not to worry and I was meeting someone who could help in Walla Walla. The solo part of my trip would end on the first tee at Wine Valley. There wasn’t much reason to panic. After letting go of the search in Moscow. I went back to Starbuck for coffee and breakfast before starting the drive. 

The initial part of my drive would involve retracing the final part of my Monday drive. It would start with the short stretch of road leading me back into Pullman. Then, onto another small town in Colfax, which sits about fifteen minutes from Pullman, on the other side of town, from Moscow. The sun was shining overhead, as I crept down the main street of Colfax. The city reminds me of an old western town. Store fronts sitting on either side of a perfectly straight road leading the driver into one end and out the other. When having driven through Colfax, both visiting friends attending WSU in years gone by, and driving through a couple weeks ago. Colfax looks to me, like a nice farming community. Where area farmers come into town and run errands. Maybe go to the bank, grocery store, or have a bite to eat. When I drive through, the shops and streets have a welcoming aspect to them. Driving out the western side of Colfax I was reminded of all the trips from the past. Weekends when I made the drive to Pullman for a football game. In the moment, those days felt like a lifetime ago, as my car wound up into the Washington wheats fields. The difference this time was my drive would take another route. Instead of retracing my journey back to the western part of the state. At some point, I would turn south for Walla Walla. 

There will always be fun attached to traveling along new roads. With having cerebral palsy, one of the things I’m thankful for, has been my ability to drive. Especially, my ability to drive well enough for others to feel safe, while riding in my car. Not everyone who has cerebral palsy, also has the ability to drive. A blessing I try to keep in mind and shy away from taking for granted. The sunroof was open to enjoy the fresh air along the highway. With directions appearing on my dashboard from the navigation system. The screen would tell me when to take the left-hand turn for Walla Walla. I knew it wouldn’t be much more than a half hour from departing Colfax. The bends in the road looked familiar from two days prior. Though the sun was fuller in the blue sky. As the sun was disappearing when I drove into town. I enjoyed the rolling hills of the wheat farms until coming upon a turn. The left-hand turn was nondescript. Marked simply with a left-hand turn lane in the center of the two-lane highway. There were no service stations for getting gas, using a restroom, or gathering snacks. No sign of a small town to mark the intersection of the highways. I tapped my blinker downward to signal my turning intention and pulled into the turn lane, marked in white lines. There was little traffic coming in the opposite direction. I waited on a truck to clear and turned onto the unknown highway. 

When turning onto highway 12, it didn’t take long for the road to feel more rural. Highway 12 felt quieter than highway 26, which leads from Vantage into Colfax. I could immediately sense myself being closer to the epicenter of the farms along this highway. I watched trucks and tractors moving across the land, not far from the road. Within the initial few miles along highway 12, a white church popped up on the right side of the road. The church appeared to be sitting out in the middle of nowhere. Upon first seeing the building, I wondered if it was actually being used. As I motored by the structure moving southwest toward Walla Walla, I got my answer. On the back side of the building, I could see scaffolding. A man was standing on the platform, working on the exterior of the white building. I wondered how far people drove on Sunday mornings to the country church. Thinking they probably had a strong community that gathered inside those walls. As the speed of my car created distance from the church, I started enjoying the highway. One in which I most likely will not be traveling, again. Winding through the gently rolling hills of farmland. I continued panning from one farm to the other, watching for the movement of people, and machinery. Many of them had people moving about, getting work done on that Wednesday morning. I was having fun with the drive, sunroof open to enjoy the weather, watching the wheat fields being farmed. Until a semi-truck came flying by in the opposite direction and I was startled with a bang.

As first, I didn’t know what had caused the loud noise. My car continued moving along its intended path. There was nothing to be felt in the steering wheel, everything seemed okay. Looking around in search of a reason for the sudden bang, something caught the corner of my eye. A large circular mark appeared in the upper left-hand corner of my windshield. In that moment, the reason for the loud noise made sense. A rock had kicked up from a large truck moving in the opposite direction and landed on my windshield. I was immediately bummed about the situation. My attention went from disappointment to being thankful. Thinking to myself how the situation could have always been worse. Sure, this was a pretty big ding in my windshield. Much larger than the ones I had experienced in the past. But the circular mark in the glass wasn’t cause for slowing down my travels. Everything about my car was still working the way it was intended. The rock didn’t disrupt my vision or threaten the stability of my windshield. I thought to myself it could be fixed later and went back to enjoying the journey. With just over an hour to go I began anticipating my arrival. The highway took me through a couple small towns, I didn’t know would be along the way. I found myself curiously looking around, as my car slowed to move through the towns. It wasn’t long before the first signs of Walla Walla began to appear. 

Walla Walla wasn’t anything like I had pictured it in my mind. Living in Washington, I had been hearing about the town for years. Every time I heard about Walla Walla, I recall hearing about it as a cool little town. The years of Walla Walla being described painted a picture inside my mind like the towns I had just departed. Something a little larger in size, but sharing the features of Colfax, Pullman, or Moscow. Instead, you can imagine my surprise when a sign on the highway told me, the next six exits would be for Walla Walla. In that moment, it sounded more like a city than a town. I certainly didn’t envision a freeway running through the area. Causing the traveler to exit off the highway and into the city. Oh well, I thought to myself, keeping up my speed past the exits for Walla Walla. The images on my dashboard had me continue past the city. Moving on a southwestern trajectory toward my destination. Wine Valley Golf Club was about fifteen minutes south of Walla Walla. The exit for the golf course was a right turn off the highway, instead of an exit ramp. A quiet farm road ran away from the highway for a couple minutes before a sign for Wine Valley appeared. I turned left onto the driveway of the golf club and through an open gate. The parking lot was huge with a long club house welcoming the golfer. I could see rolling hills of farmland for miles in the distance. Knowing the golf course was tucked amongst those hills. I could feel the warm sun, as I opened my car door. Excited to experience Wine Valley Golf Club.