Mike is taking two weeks to drive a truckload of his parents' prize posessions from Boston to Napa. And you get to ride along from the comfort of your own computer!
Entries are in reverse chronological order, so my latest missive will always be at the top of the page...
Friday, June 19
I am so freaking happy to be done driving that freaking truck.
Pulled into Napa at 8:15 p.m., and immediately detoured to the nearest shopping center to pick up celebratory cigars and champagne, which I enjoyed on the back patio. Total mileage: 4,668. (I feel every single one of them in my aching lower back!) Somewhere west of Austin, NV, I was 100% done with this trip and ready to be home. Unfortunately, I still had 350 miles left to go at that point.
But enough ancient history. I'm still not home home, but I'm in a place with my last name on the deed (thanks Mom & Dad!). Tomorrow, my brother will drive down from Davis to help me unload the truck, and then I can unload the truck at the local Penske office. I should probably express some kind of grudging affection for the old blue-and-white beast, but I'd be faking it. The only positive thing I can come up with is that it makes my F150 pickup seem downright fuel efficient by comparison. Otherwise, it's just a slow, noisy, uncomfortable behemoth with a nasty tendency to pull to the right.
My recap of today? Desert. Mountain pass. Desert. Mountain pass. Grungy town. Desert. Rinse, lather, repeat. Photos here, slideshow here.
Thanks for riding along on my cross-country trip. It made the long, lonely parts a little bit less long and lonely just knowing you were in the passenger seat. And thanks for not complaining about my driving....
p.s.—Be sure to check out the now-complete albums of beers and state welcome signs before you return to normally scheduled programming...
Thursday, June 18
Made it to Ely, NV. The drive through the desert was great. Ely is a dump. The Hotel Nevada is awesome. Check out the pictures or slideshow on Flickr.
Wednesday, June 17
Had an amazing, but long day in Yellowstone. This was the first day of my roadtrip with any substantial rain, but the sun played peekaboo just enough for me to do some sightseeing and take some pictures. You can see my photos of waterfalls, bison, geysers, mountains, and more here. (You can also link directly to the slideshow.)
Tomorrow, I'm heading south into Utah, then turning back west into Nevada. Mormons right next door to legalized gambling and prostitution! God bless America....
Tuesday, June 16
6:30 p.m. MDT: Question: What do you get when you cross a bighorn with a truck? Answer: Amazing views, and more than a few white-knuckle moments. OK, it's not much of a riddle. But it was a heck of a drive over the Bighorn Mountains this morning in the "Penske Punisher," the engine straining on the climb up to Powder River Pass, where pockets of snow dotted the landscape.
But I'm getting ahead of myself (something almost every other car did on the steep drive). I owe you a few details about yesterday's drive from Murdo to Buffalo:
- The grasslands west of Murdo were astonishing. You often see prairies described as "rolling" or "waves." Now I understand what that actually means: row after row of gentle green hills, stretching from horizon to horizon.
- Badlands National Park blew me away. It's the closest I'll ever get to wandering another planet ("an ugly planet, a bug planet," if you're a fan of Starship Troopers, which was partly filmed here). My favorite moment: getting lost for a few minutes in the maze of rocky formations, with no idea which way I'd come in.
- I've figured out where overweight white people hang out when they're not at the Iowa State Fair each year: Mount Rushmore. The other thing I noticed was that the pine trees in Mount Rushmore smell amazing. I guess that's a good thing, given the size of the nostrils on the four Presidents!
- If I had it to do over again, I'd skip the Crazy Horse monument. Maybe it'll be worth it in 300 years or so when the dynamite carving is complete. But for now, it's just another big face carved into the rocks. So far, most of the construction effort seems to have gone into the gift shop and snack bar area.
- The best decision I made all day? Changing my mind about staying in Gillette, WY, and pushing on another hour to Buffalo. Gillette was a mind-numbing sprawl of chain restaurants, gas stations, and big box stores. Buffalo, on the other hand, was a lovely little town at the foot of the Bighorn Mountains. And the Comfort Inn was the nicest motel I've stayed in all trip—well, until tonight anyway.
Hey, I think that's a segue into a recap of today's drive! After crossing the Bighorn Mountains, I entered the central Wyoming basin. I had planned to head for Yellowstone, but called an audible and turned south to Thermopolis, home of the largest mineral hot springs in the world. I enjoyed a quick soak at the spa (I still smell a bit like sulfur!) before plotting a course to Jackson.
And here I am, at the 49er Hotel in downtown Jackson, sipping an OB-1 organic ale from the Snake River Brewing Company (see "Beers Across America" gallery at the top of the page). Tomorrow, I'll stay in the area and tour both Grand Tetons and Yellowstone National Parks. Until then, how about you look at some photos, as a Flickr set with captions, or as a slideshow?
Monday, June 15
11:50 p.m. MDT: Made it to Buffalo, Wyoming after a long day of sightseeing and driving. Details later, but for now here are some photos.
Sunday, June 14
11:30 p.m. CDT: I'm in a Best Western in Murdo, South Dakota, a little prairie town with an odd sense of humor about itself.
To get here, I crossed the fertile farmland of western Iowa, into the Loess Hills (ironically, one of the more—not less—hilly parts of the state) crumpled up against the Missouri River. Then I arrowed northwest into South Dakota at Sioux City. The eastern part of the state looks a lot like Iowa, but gradually transitions from farmland to prairie—waves of empty grassland stretching from horizon to horizon.
After a week on the road, I can report that your tax dollars are being poured directly onto the nation's highways. I have seen an amazing amount of construction, which I assume is part of the economic stimulus package. In fact, the only industry that seems to be growing as quickly as highway construction is gambling. I swear that every county in the midwest has a tribal casino these days.
Here are some photos from the drive today.
11:00 a.m. CDT: Just waiting for the dryer to finish, and then I'm hitting the road. It's been a whirlwind couple of days in Iowa, but South Dakota beckons.
Maureen missed her connection and had to spend Friday night in Dallas, so I picked her up at the airport on Saturday morning. Next, it was off to the Ausilio family reunion in the park, for food, frolics, and family photos. Then it was party time back at Jim's house, since all 7 of his kids were in town. After the chaos of all the grandkids, cousins, aunts, uncles, and strangers just looking for a free meal, I'm kind of looking forward to the peace and quiet of the noisy truck.
Thursday, June 11
7:55 p.m. CDT: Now that's more like it! I only had about 300 miles to cover today, which allowed me to take a more relaxed route than the last couple drives. I started out by heading straight for Lake Superior (my fourth Great Lake this trip, if you count the Straits of Mackinac as a two-fer with Lakes Michigan and Huron; sorry, Lake Ontario, catch you next time).
Stephen King has a short story called "Mrs. Todd's Shortcut," about a woman who keeps looking for ways to shave a few minutes off her drives across Maine. As she discovers new roads that run deeper and deeper into the backwoods, strange things begin to happen—like trees coming to life with grasping branches, and horrifying creatures that her mechanic finds smashed into the grill of her car. I thought of this story many times today. In the Upper Peninsula, even the "major" highways are pretty minor—and the county roads are downright eerie.
You can ride along for some of my drive by checking out today's photo album. But here are a few random observations from the trip:
- The mosquitoes in the part of the country are friggin' huge. And numerous. By the time I reached the Wisconsin line, my windshield was opaque and lumpy with bug guts. Now there's something to inspire Stephen King!
- People up here loooooove giving their lakeside cabins funny names—maybe because they have to spend so much time indoors, on account of the mosquitoes! Puns and silly rhymes are especially popular: Schutt's Superior Hut, Water We Waiting For, and Shore Feels Good, to name just a few. I suspect that I would not like these people very much.
- What the hell are "pasties"? I'm guessing they're some sort of meat pie, like the British... er... delicacy. But why on earth would I want to buy one from a gas station, a mini-golf course, or a plumbing supply store? Is it some sort of zoning requirement to advertise pasties on your sign in the U.P.?
OK, that'll do it for tonight. Thanks for feigning interest this far. If you haven't already discovered the photo albums of beers and state welcome signs listed at the top of this page, take a look.
Wednesday, June 10
10:20 p.m. EDT: Man, that was a looooooong day. Dropped dad off at the Cleveland airport, then wound along the Lake Erie shoreline into Michigan. The mitten part was long, cloudy, and mostly boring, but the "fingertip" area right before crossing the the Mackinaw Bridge was sunny and beautiful.
I white-knuckled it over the bridge (only one open lane, plus a big truck, multiplied by exhaustion from 8 hours of driving with a nasty cold, equals a high-stress crossing) and into the Upper Peninsula. Which is pheonomenally nice, with sandy beaches and pretty farms and amazing big skies. My target was Grand Marais, but I abandoned that plan at dusk and found a Comfort Inn in Newberry.
I just ate a disgusting Pizza Hut dinner because it offered room service, and watched "Harold and Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay" because I was too tired to get up and grab the remote. So I think I'd better pass out...
Tuesday, June 9
10:30 p.m. EDT: Spent the morning touring the Cleveland Institute of Art, where my dad went to art school. Then, after a brief lunch at a sandwich joint in University Circle, we caught the bus downtown to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame and Museum. It was a lot more fun that that description sounds, but I'm exhausted.
A picture is worth a thousand words, so check out today's photos.
Monday, June 8
11:45 p.m. EDT: Made it to Cleveland. Both of us were running low on blood sugar by the time we arrived, so it was imperative to grab dinner before we killed each other. Had a great meal at the restaurant ("Sergio's") next to the hotel, then walked around the University Circle area to indulge dad's nostalgia.
Photos from today are here.
7:45 a.m. EDT: Up and out at 7:15. Coffee in our veins and brains. Willie Nelson (no, not "On the Road Again") on the iPod. And Dad and I haven't killed each other yet. Life is good.
I figure on a little over 10 hours to the Land of the Cleves. Driving Massachusetts' longest dimension (east-west) always seemed to take forever when I was younger, but I'm guessing that several years in the "big states" out West will have changed my perception of what makes for a long haul. The stretch across New York, however, is going to eat a lot of daylight and gallons of regular unleaded.
We probably could have improved our fuel efficiency with a smaller truck. There's plenty of space in the back for more furniture, smuggling uranium, or even holding auditions for "A Chorus Line." At least it was a quick load, leaving us enough time to hit the malls in beautiful, tax-free New Hampshire and then for me to meet my friend Helen for dinner. I ordered tofu without batting an eye, so I guess my Californication is complete. I'm not brave enough to order bean curd in Cleveland, so my red meat count should rise as we head West.
Saturday, June 6
10:00 a.m. PDT: I was all fired up to sing the praises of Virgin America's in-flight experience, when one of the "teammates" (no one is just a flight attendant anymore) got on the P.A. to announce that the in-flight WiFi is on the fritz. Looks like Richard Branson is going to have to find another way to extract any more cash from my uncomfortably lumpy wallet.
Despite the lack of Internet (and it does feel a little shallow to carp about a missing service that I've never received, or even expected, on any other airline), I was impressed with the Virgin experience—that is, until its reach began to exceed its grasp. Maureen talked me into a $100 upgrade to "Main Cabin Swanky," or whatever Virgin's hyperbolic marketing team calls their so-you're-too-cheap-for-First-Class-but-too-good-to-fly-coach-eh? option. The perks include early boarding, unlimited free snacks and "adult drinks," more legroom (I'm in a bulkhead seat), and no-cost access to the entertainment system. And that's on top of the laptop power outlets, leather seats, hip "mood lighting," and metrosexual cabin crew that everyone on the plane gets to enjoy. Even the safety video was edgy and funny, featuring a cartoon Richard Branson who has aged somewhat better than the real one.
Then the entertainment system locked up. And the laptop power outlets stopped working. One of the flight attendants seems to have had his deodorant fail, too, making him seem more hipster than metrosexual. Thank goodness we still have the mood lighting, or things might get really ugly!
So. at this point (somewhere over eastern Nevada, I'd guess?), Virgin America gets an "A" for effort, but a "D" for execution. Time for one of those free $100 adult drinks, I guess.
11:15 a.m. PDT: . The WiFi seems to be working now. Let's see how it handles my attempt to upload this blog entry...
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