Dusk is falling and we're still on the road. Highway 97 is the only North-South route east of the Cascade Mountains and its a pipeline of trucks moving at 80 miles-per-hour. Paula searches on-line for motels on our route. We find The Whispering Pines Motel and make a reservation. Its our last gasp. There's nothing else in sight. As it turns out, its a rustic little place with some character and it doesn't cost a fortune. We're happy to be here and Sheila, the proprietor, sees us off the next morning with a hot cup of coffee.
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