We traveled by car from Alaska to Texas in June. I have always measured the immensity of mountains by their cross-sectional distance. I’ve flown across the Rockies in the time it takes to read a chapter or two in a Jack Reacher novel. They look stately and wild below, but from above you can see countless roads defacing the wilderness, a reminder that they are not so wild afterall. And all too soon you have passed them by.
But traveling from Alaska to Texas, you wander down the spines and through the valleys of countless mountains ranges, one after another, once vast sedimentary basins now uplifted into towering heights laid bare by a tumultuous past that thrust earth’s tectonic plates into one another until they buckled in anguish. I think I’ll call them the Forever Mountains, a land where flats and plains are but a myth.
We traveled through those mountains for 2300 miles before they fell away behind us where the eastern slope of the Rockies spill out upon the Montana plains.
Altogether we traveled 4500 miles or 7250 kilometers.