Over the weekend, my favorite writer friend and I took a little motor to visit some independent booksellers in a the Salem area. On the way, we stopped in Silverton, a lovely little Oregon town that is possibly the only small town in the country with a transgender mayor. On days when I forget how crazy making it was to live in a small town in the middle of the prairie, I think that Silverton is just the sort of small town to live in, if you're going to leave the city. The only thing that would make it better would be if it were closer to the ocean.
In addition to being small AND progressive, Silverton also has some nice restaurants, one of which is home to the cutest ladies' room ever. The best part about it is that the rest of the building gives no indication that it hides such a pretty powder room. Silverton, you keep your secrets well! Nonetheless, every time I go in there, it makes me want to go home and cover my own bathroom walls with sunny murals.
That really is one the best parts of road trips (even mini ones). You never know what you will find! Travelling by plane certainly doesn't hold the same feeling of exploration. Planes are a way to get from point A to point B. Road trips are an experience, a choose your own adventure novel written by map (or in some cases a simple "I wonder what's down this road?"). It all makes me eager for warmer weather and sunnier days. The snow was lovely, the rain less so. Hitting the road for even just a short Saturday getaway makes me yearn cameras, sunglasses, wild flower carpeted hills, road tunes and a few good travel companions. Some of my best memories involve those things. Hooray for lower gas prices and hooray for The Road!