The outlet malls, motels, and gas stations that passed for scenery on the interstate gave way to farmland then forest in almost no time. The pace of work at Reed, Briggs had been so intense that Brad hadn’t had a chance to explore Oregon, and he was surprised by the rapid disappearance of anything remotely resembling the crowded, tightly packed urban and suburban areas he’d grown up with on the East Coast. The population of the towns they drove through was often listed in three or four digits, and the road ran parallel to rivers and dense forest instead of strip malls and tract homes. Every once in a while the course of the two-lane highway would veer and without warning the snowcapped peak of a huge mountain would loom over the vast expanse of green foothills, only to disappear when the road changed direction again. “Does this look anything like the Midwest?” Brad joked. “Are you kidding? A five-story building passes for a mountain where I come from.
