Interstate 90 is a mighty long American road that connects Seattle, Washington to Boston, Massachusetts ‒ or all the way from the Pacific to the Atlantic Ocean not far south of Canada. Its 3,103 miles have been open since 1956. Barring the fact that it’s the longest interstate in America and you could pay a whack of tolls driving along it for a whole long week, what am I doing writing this in the first place. I didn’t even get to see the recent CineCoup movie of the same name.
To be honest I just could not get excited about an ex-law enforcer hoping to settle a score with a maniacal crime boss while being hunted by a man known only as the Frenchman. To me, the interest is more the features that you pass along the way. The action begins shortly after you leave Seattle and cross two of the longest floating bridges in the world.
Autumn idyll by the highway near Seattle.
Photo by Matthew Rutledge
After that, you bypass Wallace, Idaho. This is the town that got itself declared historic to force the government to do a bypass. Until 1999 the speed limit in Montana was ‘reasonable and prudent’ until some interfering nanny imposed a 75 mph restriction. Just before you enter Wyoming you can take a detour to Little Bighorn where Custer made his last stand. Now that’s a cowboy movie I like to watch.
Not much happens in Wyoming at the best of times, barring the fact it has 32 islands and they raise great horses on the prairie. I’m more of a South Dakota fan and I always stop by for a burger at Sioux Falls (although it’s more of a cataract) because I like the name. Now let me see what’s next. Ah, Minnesota, and we’re just past the half-way point already. I’ve heard tell they once had a solid gold line painted across the road there for some or other reason, until a bunch of students stole it.
Fighting the snow on I-90 in Avon, Ohio.
Photo by Nicholas Eckhart
I’m going to hit the gas and fly through Illinois and Indiana because it’s getting dark and I need to make up time. Cleveland, Ohio has a bridge built to the same design as the one that fell down in Minneapolis so I’ll go gentle over it. Since they jacked it up six inches there hasn’t been a murmur or a groan.
All that’s left is the Pennsylvania turnpike, New York State, and Massachusetts. When you arrive in Boston, consider pulling in at a diner, putting your feet up on the table until the platinum blonde tells you not to, and downing a beer. Finally you can send a tweet to everybody telling them you made it, and tick Interstate 90 off your bucket list of things to do forever.