Was it Petula Clark that sang..'It's a sign of the times'... way backin the 60's? That lyric has new meaning as I re-run my last 2 days on the road before reaching my California destination. The signs are large and small, colorful and plain-Jane. Leaving Boise and heading southwest here's a splattering of signs that brought smiles to my face:... 'Chicken Dinner Road', ...'Say When Casino', ...'Howdy Pardner, This Here's Cow Country', and a myriad of others. The sign that put shoes on my feet was the 'Dust Hazard' one. As I drive down Hwy 95 in Oregon I see dust spouts on numerous occasions; curious looking fingers in the sky that dip and raise and sometimes are so close I see the whorls in 3D! The spouts were a foretaste of the winds to come that whip across the sandy earth and hit Mr. P with quite a force. I quickly learn that a firm hand on the wheel is an absolute necessity. The image in my mind goes to the rodeo arenas I pass on occasion, where the cowboys sit on their mount in the gates... bucking bronchos I believe --that's what it feels like as I maneuver through those wind storm areas of Oregon and northern California. On the subject of bronchos... I am wishing to see a sign for: 'Wild Horse Santuary', something I read about online prior to my trip. Southeastern Oregon,it seems, is home to hundreds of herds of wild horses. This trip I will have to use my imagination for what a sighting of those wild horses might be like - quite enthralling I suspect! The end of Hwy 95 finds me in Nevada on the south end of the Santa Rosa Range and entering the curious town of Winnemucca. The fame of this city, more than a century ago, was in the waves of gold seekers heading west on the Oregon Trail. The stories of that day are well documented at the fascinating museum here. The county jail door, the covered wagon remnants and the rusted-out ultra-vintage autos are but a few of the relics that peak my interest. I-80 takes me from here into California, where an overnight visit with my brother awaits. Passing through the mountains and terrific views of Lake Tahoe, I am slowed by the patience-testing back-ups of summer freeway construction. The Auburn exit comes too slowly, but the last 2-hour run of the road is worth the wait! Grand-Prix courses in Europe have nothing over this little beauty of a highway through the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountain range. It is obvious that the city-folk flock to this region for weekend R & R in the great outdoors. The quaint towns, once centers for the gold rush mob of the 1800's offer ambience galore - a treat for this midwest girl, turned adventurer! The signs on I-5, the last day of 'the first leg' of my journey, are the rubber stamp version of America's freeway mecca. Not much creativity or humor to be had, but the excitment of ..'arrival'.. dulls the search for the unusual. A bit of euphoria replaces the inquisitive search of the first 9 days... driving into LA on the lighted 8-lane freeways of this metropolis is yet a new event on this journey. Eyes wide open, I peruse the signs for just the right exits, grunting with disgust as I realize I am on the wrong side of those 8 lanes for the next exit...... whew.... made it across with a second to spare onto the exit that leads to my destination, Irvine! A few stop lights, a few corners, there she stands.. my dear daughter, waving her hands enthusiastically... the sweet safe arrival, a SIGN that God has safely led me 2,000 miles over the last 10 days into a sweet embrace. Into the Wind with ...nature girl. (Soon to explore ....the Beaches of California!)