I am officially one of those people. 

The problem is I don’t know which type I am.  I go back and forth: am I a bad person or a good person as I travel across the country from Oregon to Minnesota?

It Grandma’s 100th birthday in a week’s time. Before Corona Virus, we had a birthday party planned, and family would come from wherever they might be to celebrate this momentous occasion.  Now, everything is uncertain.

My wife and I delayed our trip by a few weeks—enough time for us to get antibodies testing, along with the rest of our company, and get our results.  Negative IGG antibodies.  (Isn’t it interesting how you probably know what that means, and two weeks ago you probably never heard the term).  We hadn’t been exposed to Corona Virus, and there were no new cases in the weeks leading up to our departure…until two days before we left when two people tested positive.

We set out from our area of Oregon where restaurants and businesses are open. In fact, just a week before leaving I got a haircut for the first time in six weeks.  As we traveled across the state, we quickly found that this was not true for other areas.  When we arrived at our normal stopover in Woodburn, Oregon, the shops were closed, and we could not enter Panera.  We ate in the parking lot on the tailgate of our truck.

The people at a nearby Starbucks told a story of a local religious group that refused to stop meeting and Corona Virus cases has been quite high.  Recent days had seen reduced numbers and they were hopeful to enter “Phase 2.”  Everyone we met at our stop was happy and upbeat.  Most people wore masks, and there was a general sense that getting back to normal would be very welcome.

We found, as we ventured out, that bathrooms are a problem in the time of the Corona Virus.  Signs overhead on the freeway asked us to stay home and save lives.  Local trips save lives.  The question of whether we were good or bad people for traveling re-emerged as a conversation in our truck.

Rest areas were open across Oregon, though they weren’t heavily occupied.  In Hood River, Oregon, it seemed that most people were not wearing masks.  We stopped again along the Columbia River, and the people in the gas station were behind plexiglass and wearing masks, but most people outside were not.  The one thing we did not see was anxiousness or worry.  I still haven’t seen a fearful person. Maybe the fearful are all at home.

We made it to our destination on day one: Richland, Washington, along the Columbia River.  We met the manager of the Courtyard.  He was a nice man in his mid-30’s, I suppose.  We asked about the hotel and if there were many people booked for the night (there were no cars in the parking lot), and he informed us that they had literally just reopened after being closed for nine weeks.  We were the first guests after opening the doors six hours earlier.

It’s weird being the only people at a Courtyard. The roped-off bistro and the “CLOSED” signs on the door to the pool and fitness area reminded us that this is a fragile time.  The manager told us he had been staying at the hotel 24 hours a day, 7 days a week to look over the property.  Wow!

Nevertheless, he and the other staff at the hotel were happy to see us.  He sanitized his hands before touching my credit card and ID and again after.  Kind.  He recommended a restaurant  nearby.  Lulu’s.

My wife and I went out for a nice walk along the Columbia. We went into Lulu’s and found it was takeout only.  The staff was very nice.  They had a large bottle of hand sanitizer in the entrance. For the first time, I tasted wine from a to-go ramekin normally used for salad dressing.  We ordered steaks, and they gave us wine in mason jars…that were ours to keep.

My wife and I chatted outside while we waited for our food and sipped wine from mason jars.  A woman approached us and asked if the bathroom was open in Lulu’s. It was not.  She complained that all the public restrooms were closed.  Where was she to go, she wondered.  We commiserated, having had that same problem hours before.  We got our dinner after having been texted and headed back to our empty hotel.

From there, we went through Idaho and into Montana.  These were the first places we had been where the gas station employees weren’t wearing masks.  We talked to everyone and asked how they were doing and how it had been for them.  We heard resiliency.  We heard strength.  We heard people following guidance. 

We stopped in Missoula, Montana for lunch.  Only one in ten people were wearing masks on the street.  Maybe that’s just the downtown area where we stopped to eat, we speculated.  We could eat inside! The employees were’t wearing masks, and they said they were looking forward to entering Phase 3 of the reopening.  Wow!  They talked about how many cases they had.  They talked about the guidance they were following and why.  We heard compliance.  We heard a hope for a return to normalcy.

We stopped in Butte, Montana for the night.  A Fairfield Inn this time.  They’ve remained open the whole time.  The previous night, they were nearly full; when we stayed, they were at 60%.  That’s pretty good.  The woman at the counter used hand sanitizer before she touched my card and ID and after.  It must be a Marriott thing.  Good news: the elevator worked, the fitness center was open, and they had coffee.  All things the Courtyard didn’t have.

This is a very interesting time that we live in.  The virus.  The economy.  Families.  Friendships. Good people making the best of a bad situation.

People making the best decisions they can with the information they have.

Are we good or bad for taking this trip?  It depends on your point of view.  We think we are doing the right thing.  It’s apparent that we are coming into close contact with far fewer people than we did at home, but we are keenly aware that this is how viruses spread from region to region. 

It is nice to see, as we cross America and is so often the case, this is not the America you read about in the press.  This is the America that is handling the crisis not through fear, but through resolute determination.  Are people upset that this is happening? Yes.  Are they letting it stop them? No.  Are they following the rules laid down for them regionally? Yes.  There is a general, “This is what must be done, so we are doing it” mentality. 

I am happy to be seeing America.  Not through the lens of journalism, but for myself.  So often we see a polarized America in the press.  Once again, I am reminded that the majority of America exists between those poles.  It is a wide, wide area between those poles.