Let's talk about great quotes real quick: Last night at 317's in Bozeman, I was talking with Dick Shanahan about Sir Edmund Hilary's quote, "It's not the mountain we climb but ourselves." It's such a beautiful quote and can be applied to the trip that we're on as well. Also, in Ohio, we were discussing the quote, "To travel is better than to arrive;" I found a similar quote on a shirt here in Jackson, which of course I picked up. The quote is, "The journey is the destination." Such a beautiful way to describe our trip: where the journey and the destination are one.
Today was an amazing day, full of natural wonders. Yellowstone is hard to even describe with words--there is so much incredible natural wonder that I've never even seen the likes of before in my life. Natural hot springs, geysers (including Old Faithful), waterfalls, canyons, the tremendous Yellowstone Lake, countryside that is every shade of green. It's so hard to even describe. Matt and I took about a hundred pictures today at Yellowstone, which we traversed for over 5 hours. At one point while we were driving, a couple of bison crossed the road, and one even came within 5 feet of the car. It was seriously surreal.
After visiting our desired destinations at Yellowstone (not even a quarter of what you could do there), we were tired of driving and wanted to get to our lodging here at Jackson. Plus we hadn't really eaten much all day. So, our time going through the Grand Tetons had to be limited to just the drive straight through to jackson. The Tetons were incredible though. Picture massive mountains at your fingertips surrounding your drive everywhere you turn, with only a beautiful lake or a gorgeous green field between you and the giants. I totally want to come back and explore these two parks for more than just a couple of hours.
Here in Jackson, we are amazed with this small, cowboy western town. It came out of nowhere (from the mountains and valleys of the Tetons to the city of Jackson Hole). It has a great small-town feel, but there are so many stores, bars, galleries, plenty of things to do. We went to an amazing restaurant which served western game like bison and elk (which we ordered) and delicious local microbrews like the Grand Teton Ale or Montana's Moose Drool. Tonight we're going to head to the famous Cowboy Bar for a couple of drinks, and tomorrow we are setting out for Utah and Arizona (all in one day) bright and early when the sun rises at 6 AM. Til the next western city!
Monday, July 14, 2008
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Bozeman, Montana
So my expectations were correct and I absolutely love Montana. We went to a wonderful brewpub tonight for dinner and beers, Montana Ale Works, where the beers--each one that I tried--were so delicious, and the food was just as good. The people in Montana are welcoming, willing to reach out and talk to you, wherever you may be from.
Heeding our Ale Works server's advice, we walked down Main Street and checked out a few bars, though most of them weren't as happening being that it's Sunday. We stopped at 317, where I had a wonderful conversation with Bozeman local Dick Shanahan, who is an architect and world traveler. We discussed Bozeman, Robert Pirsig, Montana playing the Blue Hens, our trip across the country, and the economy. I was dismayed to learn that he intends on voting for McCain in the fall, but was happy to hear he admires Obama's charisma and that he didn't sound too upset of Barack were to win. He was a worldly and interesting gentleman to talk to, and really made me excited to be in Bozeman.
We continued on to the Crystal Bar, which had a hodgepodge of different people--probably an accurate assumption of the Bozeman population. We didn't stay for long, only for a drink, but I was still convinced that the city (on regular nights, maybe not usually Sundays) is a hub for young people situated at the heels of a beautiful mountain range, where the possibilities of this world are endless. I'd certainly like to come back (I joked with Matt and Jeff as the mayor of this city) to spend some substantial time among the mountains.
Tomorrow we're waking up early again to go to Yellowstone (an absolute once-in-a-lifetime must according to Dick), Grand Tetons National Park, and ending up in Jackson Hole, Wyoming tomorrow night. So, until then....!
Heeding our Ale Works server's advice, we walked down Main Street and checked out a few bars, though most of them weren't as happening being that it's Sunday. We stopped at 317, where I had a wonderful conversation with Bozeman local Dick Shanahan, who is an architect and world traveler. We discussed Bozeman, Robert Pirsig, Montana playing the Blue Hens, our trip across the country, and the economy. I was dismayed to learn that he intends on voting for McCain in the fall, but was happy to hear he admires Obama's charisma and that he didn't sound too upset of Barack were to win. He was a worldly and interesting gentleman to talk to, and really made me excited to be in Bozeman.
We continued on to the Crystal Bar, which had a hodgepodge of different people--probably an accurate assumption of the Bozeman population. We didn't stay for long, only for a drink, but I was still convinced that the city (on regular nights, maybe not usually Sundays) is a hub for young people situated at the heels of a beautiful mountain range, where the possibilities of this world are endless. I'd certainly like to come back (I joked with Matt and Jeff as the mayor of this city) to spend some substantial time among the mountains.
Tomorrow we're waking up early again to go to Yellowstone (an absolute once-in-a-lifetime must according to Dick), Grand Tetons National Park, and ending up in Jackson Hole, Wyoming tomorrow night. So, until then....!
Billings, Montana (Published in Bozeman, MT)
We are currently on the road in Montana traveling to our destination of Bozeman. It’s been a long day of travel, but the travel has made our day today, since the scenery has been truly phenomenal ever since we left Denver, where I will pick up from last night.
We got some dinner last night and tried some Flying Dog beers at the Blake Street Tavern. Our next quest was to relive, in some respects, the Real World Denver from a couple of years ago. We went over to the actual Real World house on Market Street, which has now been redesigned as a bar called Theorie. The bar, though it was cool to reenact the Real World and be in the actual building, was a little too pretentious for us, so we moved on down the street to Lodo’s Bar & Grill. We had a great time at LoDo’s dancing on the rooftop with our Denver friends Jessica & Jennie who we met the night before. The five of us had a great time, and it was real cool making friends after being in a city for only 2 days.
This morning we were up early and out on the road, traveling on I-25 N through Colorado and Wyoming. In the beginning of Wyoming I felt like we had left the comfort of the Rockies back in Colorado and Wyoming was going to be all grassland just like Nebraska. It didn’t have the same depressing feeling—after all it was a new day, new state, and new feeling towards our trip. But after Denver, which was tremendous, and where we had a ton of fun, grassland wasn’t necessarily top on the list.
Luckily, as we drove on, there were canyons and mountains in the distance that broke up the grassy monotony and painted the scenery for us. We passed through Chugwater, home of famous chili supposedly, and on top of a canyon that we passed sat a real cowboy on his horse, just staring out into unlimited distance and time. It was beautiful. An image I will never forget. I saw quite a few cowboys—almost like a convention of them—right off the side of the road closer to Cheyenne. They were all on their horses, dressed in cowboy hat, bolo, tight jeans or pants. It’s quite the interesting country up here.
The landscape in Wyoming, as it develops further north, is magnificent—so serene and peaceful. Casper, Wyoming, I read in the USA Today in Chicago, is experiencing a housing boom (contrary to the rest of the country). The area is beautiful—situated in valley, with mountains looming in the distance. People I’m sure find happiness out here despite its desolation. The differences in this country are inspiring. Robert Pirsig, author of Zen & the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance wrote, "Some say the good is found in happiness, but how do we know what happiness is? And how can happiness be defined? Happiness and good are not objective terms. We cannot deal with them scientifically. And since they aren't objective they just exist in your mind. So if you want to be happy just change your mind. Ha-ha." My happiness on this trip is defined by my mind, yes, but also my location. Each drive, each state, each city that we wind up in brings a newfound happiness that maybe wasn't the same in the last drive, state, or city.
I keep finding that I am fascinated by water on this trip. Even the Wyoming reservoirs we pass have stood out to me. I pay attention to every river we cross (North Platte piqued my interest in the subject), including ones with crazy names like South Fork Crazy Woman and Middle Fork Crazy Woman, and for some reason water keeps fascinating me.
There is a quote that I read about in Zen and... – “You’ve got to cross that lonesome valley. You’ve got to cross it by yourself.” Crossing all these valleys, with mountains surrounding in surplus, people in serious desolation and isolation, has certainly caused for me some introspection, but I am inspired by it. These “lonely” valleys inspire me and bring me closer to everyone in this country—even the cowboy sitting atop the Wyoming canyon in Cheyenne.
The snow-capped mountains in the Wyoming distance are like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Cattle, livestock, animals of all kinds roam freely only feet away from the interstate, making me realize we’re a long way from the hustle and bustle of New York and Long Island, and that’s actually comforting, healing in a sense.
Rasselas has been taking a toll on the highway, as we have now driven close too 3000 miles (in less than a week!), but he is still hanging in fine. The windshield and grill are ravaged with bug guts from Iowa, Nebraska, Colorado, Wyoming and Montana. As Matt put it, “We waged a jihad against the bugs of this nation.” So true.
Entering into Montana, I am in complete agreement with John Steinbeck, who wrote, "I am in love with Montana. For other states I have admiration, respect, recognition, even some affection, but with Montana it is love, and it's difficult to analyze love when you're in it...It seems to me that Montana is a great splash of grandeur." The mountains here are incredible, made up of every color imaginable. The trees and animals roam the landscape, and the sky is the grandest, bluest I have ever seen. There wasn’t a cloud visible in this “big sky country”
We stopped off I-90 at the Battle of Little Big Horn, where Custer’s Last Stand took place. The views from atop the Battle cliff were awesome, and the monument was incredibly moving. It really made me think about Americans before us, and what our purpose is in being here. Those who are remembered at the Little Big Horn Cemetary—both the American soldiers and the Native Americans—had a purpose here in America to preserve their respective ways of living, and it really made me ponder my own.
We are about an hour and a half away from Bozeman, and I’m getting excited to settle down into a quaint Montana town. Our exploration of that town will have to be tonight only, as we are leaving for Yellowstone bright and early in the morning. More to come from this beautiful Montanan town settled at the feet of the mountains and nestled with the Yellowstone River.
We got some dinner last night and tried some Flying Dog beers at the Blake Street Tavern. Our next quest was to relive, in some respects, the Real World Denver from a couple of years ago. We went over to the actual Real World house on Market Street, which has now been redesigned as a bar called Theorie. The bar, though it was cool to reenact the Real World and be in the actual building, was a little too pretentious for us, so we moved on down the street to Lodo’s Bar & Grill. We had a great time at LoDo’s dancing on the rooftop with our Denver friends Jessica & Jennie who we met the night before. The five of us had a great time, and it was real cool making friends after being in a city for only 2 days.
This morning we were up early and out on the road, traveling on I-25 N through Colorado and Wyoming. In the beginning of Wyoming I felt like we had left the comfort of the Rockies back in Colorado and Wyoming was going to be all grassland just like Nebraska. It didn’t have the same depressing feeling—after all it was a new day, new state, and new feeling towards our trip. But after Denver, which was tremendous, and where we had a ton of fun, grassland wasn’t necessarily top on the list.
Luckily, as we drove on, there were canyons and mountains in the distance that broke up the grassy monotony and painted the scenery for us. We passed through Chugwater, home of famous chili supposedly, and on top of a canyon that we passed sat a real cowboy on his horse, just staring out into unlimited distance and time. It was beautiful. An image I will never forget. I saw quite a few cowboys—almost like a convention of them—right off the side of the road closer to Cheyenne. They were all on their horses, dressed in cowboy hat, bolo, tight jeans or pants. It’s quite the interesting country up here.
The landscape in Wyoming, as it develops further north, is magnificent—so serene and peaceful. Casper, Wyoming, I read in the USA Today in Chicago, is experiencing a housing boom (contrary to the rest of the country). The area is beautiful—situated in valley, with mountains looming in the distance. People I’m sure find happiness out here despite its desolation. The differences in this country are inspiring. Robert Pirsig, author of Zen & the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance wrote, "Some say the good is found in happiness, but how do we know what happiness is? And how can happiness be defined? Happiness and good are not objective terms. We cannot deal with them scientifically. And since they aren't objective they just exist in your mind. So if you want to be happy just change your mind. Ha-ha." My happiness on this trip is defined by my mind, yes, but also my location. Each drive, each state, each city that we wind up in brings a newfound happiness that maybe wasn't the same in the last drive, state, or city.
I keep finding that I am fascinated by water on this trip. Even the Wyoming reservoirs we pass have stood out to me. I pay attention to every river we cross (North Platte piqued my interest in the subject), including ones with crazy names like South Fork Crazy Woman and Middle Fork Crazy Woman, and for some reason water keeps fascinating me.
There is a quote that I read about in Zen and... – “You’ve got to cross that lonesome valley. You’ve got to cross it by yourself.” Crossing all these valleys, with mountains surrounding in surplus, people in serious desolation and isolation, has certainly caused for me some introspection, but I am inspired by it. These “lonely” valleys inspire me and bring me closer to everyone in this country—even the cowboy sitting atop the Wyoming canyon in Cheyenne.
The snow-capped mountains in the Wyoming distance are like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Cattle, livestock, animals of all kinds roam freely only feet away from the interstate, making me realize we’re a long way from the hustle and bustle of New York and Long Island, and that’s actually comforting, healing in a sense.
Rasselas has been taking a toll on the highway, as we have now driven close too 3000 miles (in less than a week!), but he is still hanging in fine. The windshield and grill are ravaged with bug guts from Iowa, Nebraska, Colorado, Wyoming and Montana. As Matt put it, “We waged a jihad against the bugs of this nation.” So true.
Entering into Montana, I am in complete agreement with John Steinbeck, who wrote, "I am in love with Montana. For other states I have admiration, respect, recognition, even some affection, but with Montana it is love, and it's difficult to analyze love when you're in it...It seems to me that Montana is a great splash of grandeur." The mountains here are incredible, made up of every color imaginable. The trees and animals roam the landscape, and the sky is the grandest, bluest I have ever seen. There wasn’t a cloud visible in this “big sky country”
We stopped off I-90 at the Battle of Little Big Horn, where Custer’s Last Stand took place. The views from atop the Battle cliff were awesome, and the monument was incredibly moving. It really made me think about Americans before us, and what our purpose is in being here. Those who are remembered at the Little Big Horn Cemetary—both the American soldiers and the Native Americans—had a purpose here in America to preserve their respective ways of living, and it really made me ponder my own.
We are about an hour and a half away from Bozeman, and I’m getting excited to settle down into a quaint Montana town. Our exploration of that town will have to be tonight only, as we are leaving for Yellowstone bright and early in the morning. More to come from this beautiful Montanan town settled at the feet of the mountains and nestled with the Yellowstone River.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Denver, CO - Day 2
Denver is a wonderful city. Yesterday, after relaxing in the pool at the hotel for a little while, we walked around the city and checked out its tremendous nightlife. We started with appetizers and mini-Miller High Life's at an old 60s diner-style restaurant called Steubens. We then walked through the center of the city, and decided to check out the many micro-breweries the Mile High City has to offer. First was Rock Bottom, where there was an outdoor festival with a band performing. I have to mention the sweltering heat of Denver. At times it is offensive. Matt characterized it as "hot breath."
After Rock Bottom, we stopped at a bar where patrons (unfortunately) could still smoke. Celtic was a typical Irish bar that we only stayed at for one drink. Our search was for Breckenridge's Microbrewery, which we found right by the baseball stadium, Coors Field. Our bartender Margot was delightful, as she gave us some delicious drinks and pub fare. Matt also made friends with a Denver local named Phil, who gave him some kind advice for being in the Mile High City.
We continued on to the Wynckoop Brewing Co. for a drink, and then finally ended our night a the incredible Sing Sing Dueling Pianos Bar. Sing Sing was awesome - the two performers took requests and really got the crowd going and into the songs--the likes of which were Outkast, Billy Joel, The Eagles, Lynard Skynard, etc. We think we might go back tonight.
This morning we were up bright and early and traveled to Morrison, CO to go white water rafting. This was an incredible experience. We set off from Clear Creek with our guide La (short for Laura), who was one of the most endearing people I've met on this trip so far. She set us down the river and through the rapids, and it was just amazing to see Colorado from this perspective, along the river, staring into the mountains. It was truly breathtaking. But it was a workout nevertheless. Of course, I had to be the person to fall out of the raft, but everyone in the boat was quick to reach out and get me back in. I wouldn't have had it any other way. You can see proofs of the pictures that we bought of us during the whole rafting session. Go to this website:Pictures , scroll to the bottom, click on Geo Rafting with La 7/12/08am, and you will see our group in all its glory. The pics of me falling into the water are 6-8; they're pretty funny.
After rafting, we went right down the road to the famous Red Rocks Park & Amphitheater and saw the breathtaking and magnificent view of and from the Red Rocks. Truly a sight to behold and one that words truly can't describe.
It's been a great time so far here in Denver, and we're going to continue it tonight, going out downtown probably. Tomorrow is an early wake up and travel to Bozeman, Montana.
Just have to give a quick shout-out to Matt Younghans, who's also traveling the country. I heard from him earlier today as he was driving through Texas towards Oklahoma. Sounds like he's having a great time also. Check in with everyone tomorrow from another city & time...
After Rock Bottom, we stopped at a bar where patrons (unfortunately) could still smoke. Celtic was a typical Irish bar that we only stayed at for one drink. Our search was for Breckenridge's Microbrewery, which we found right by the baseball stadium, Coors Field. Our bartender Margot was delightful, as she gave us some delicious drinks and pub fare. Matt also made friends with a Denver local named Phil, who gave him some kind advice for being in the Mile High City.
We continued on to the Wynckoop Brewing Co. for a drink, and then finally ended our night a the incredible Sing Sing Dueling Pianos Bar. Sing Sing was awesome - the two performers took requests and really got the crowd going and into the songs--the likes of which were Outkast, Billy Joel, The Eagles, Lynard Skynard, etc. We think we might go back tonight.
This morning we were up bright and early and traveled to Morrison, CO to go white water rafting. This was an incredible experience. We set off from Clear Creek with our guide La (short for Laura), who was one of the most endearing people I've met on this trip so far. She set us down the river and through the rapids, and it was just amazing to see Colorado from this perspective, along the river, staring into the mountains. It was truly breathtaking. But it was a workout nevertheless. Of course, I had to be the person to fall out of the raft, but everyone in the boat was quick to reach out and get me back in. I wouldn't have had it any other way. You can see proofs of the pictures that we bought of us during the whole rafting session. Go to this website:Pictures , scroll to the bottom, click on Geo Rafting with La 7/12/08am, and you will see our group in all its glory. The pics of me falling into the water are 6-8; they're pretty funny.
After rafting, we went right down the road to the famous Red Rocks Park & Amphitheater and saw the breathtaking and magnificent view of and from the Red Rocks. Truly a sight to behold and one that words truly can't describe.
It's been a great time so far here in Denver, and we're going to continue it tonight, going out downtown probably. Tomorrow is an early wake up and travel to Bozeman, Montana.
Just have to give a quick shout-out to Matt Younghans, who's also traveling the country. I heard from him earlier today as he was driving through Texas towards Oklahoma. Sounds like he's having a great time also. Check in with everyone tomorrow from another city & time...
Friday, July 11, 2008
Gibbon, Nebraska (Published in Denver, CO!)
This was written while on the road today. More will come from Denver tomorrow. Well a lot has happened in the past two days, and by the time we reach Denver, we’ll have traveled over 1000 miles in the 2 days! Let’s start back in Chicago on Wednesday (seems like forever ago!).
We walked all the way up Clark Street through Wrigleyville to Wrigley Stadium to find out that the Cubs game, of course, was sold out for the night. We were a bit bummed, but we went into a local bar, The Central, had a few cheap beers and caught the game against the Reds, which turned out to be rather uneventful anyway. Wrigleyville is an awesome part of town, with a million young people—and every girl in Chicago was good looking—and a million bars to choose from, and everyone is just out there having a good time routing for their team.
After we had had enough of watching the game on TV, we decided to walk back to our hotel to find out about the comedy group Second City. On our way, we were approached by a guy in a van who was drinking Old Style and playing his guitar. He said, “Guys, you have two options: Give a dollar or take a dollar.” Looking at the little box filled with dollars on the sidewalk, I was intrigued. So I went back and asked him why the two options. His response: “Well, if you needed the dollar, I’d understand and you could take it. But, looking at how you’re dressed, it seems you don’t really need the dollar, so if you took it, you’d be an asshole. But, who am I to judge? I’m just trying to get to a peace rally in Washington, D.C.” We asked this Portland, Oregon native, caught in the middle of the country trying to get across just like we were, to play us some blues and dropped a couple of dollars in his bin. Always support someone going cross country because they will certainly come across some struggles.
Second City, the comedy troupe home to Steve Carell, Stephen Colbert, Fred Willard, Eugene Levy, Bill Murray, Chris Farley and countless others, was hilarious. Once again, we didn’t plan ahead enough and missed their first show at 8, but we were lucky enough to catch the improvisational set at 10 for free, which I’m sure was just as funny. Definitely a must-see in Chicago.
On Thursday, we were on our way to Nebraska bright and early. The road through Illinois we had gotten used to: farmlands, occasional streams and rivers, nothing to really boast of. I do have to say that I-88 W in the Chicago suburbs is one of the worst roads in America – the construction and one lane really inspired some road rage in us. I was taken aback by the graciousness of a gas attendant in Rock Falls, Illinois who gave me a free cup of coffee with my gas that would be taking us through Iowa and into Nebraska.
We eventually hopped on I-80 (yes, the same road in Newark, NJ) and crossed the magnificent Mississippi River, the artery of America. It was a monumental moment on our trip; I felt fully enveloped into the West. The countryside of Iowa was beautiful picturesque farms, scaling along rolling farmhills that were right out of every farm painting you’ve ever seen. Singing “Getting’ Jiggy Wit’ It” and “Against the Wind” on I-80 by myself (my carmates were both dozing off) was complete happiness and carefreedom. We stopped in Cedar Rapids, a small, industrial city, to donate money to the Red Cross. While we were there, it was raining, and I could see the rivers were flooded and close to the bottoms of bridges. They seemed like they could need the money, so it was good to donate.
As I switched to a backseat passenger, I watched hawks soaring in the blue Iowan sky, and I sighed and thought of all that’s surrounding me. In the center of the country, I think of Chicago, Ohio, Pennsylvania, New Jersey and New York—times past, East. And Denver, Montana, Wyoming, Arizona, California—times to come, West. It is a glorious feeling of being in the heartland of this country, the roads east and west like the veins in our body pumping blood throughout in order to keep us alive.
Along the farm encrusted roads of Iowa, I was thinking back to a conversation Jeff and I had at lunch in Chicago on Wednesday. He asked me where I get my morals from. An unconventional question, yes, but one that I treasured, especially as I’m reading Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, which is about a cross-country trip in which the narrator is in search of values and morals. I had to answer that I attribute my morals to my entire family, from bottom to top—parents, sister, aunts, uncles, cousins & grandparents. I am extremely proud of my family and the values they’ve helped instill in me. Jeff remarked that this type of family values is rare these days, and he attributed his morals to his father, to whom he speaks very highly. Driving across a country is an excellent way to get to know geography, dialects, architecture, the different characteristics that make a country what it is, but it’s also an excellent way to find out the same characteristics about yourself and the people who travel with you, to find out what exactly makes up you and them.
We crossed over the Missouri River and into Nebraska, greeted by a welcome sign to the City of Omaha, which doesn’t have much of a downtown, pretty much what’s situated on the riverfront only. Our first stop in Nebraska was Sonic, where we had the infamous Sonic Blast. We went to Gorat’s Famous Stakes, where we had our first succulent and world-renowned Omaha Steaks, and they were extremely delicious. I felt a little out of place when there were gentlemen in the bathroom discussing their cattle and the waitress asked if we wanted more “pop.”
We arrived at our destination for the night, the Louisville Lakes State Recreation Area in Louisville, Nebraska. After setting up our tent on camping area 62, we explored the Platte River and the lakes surrounding it. I learned a life lesson here: do not wait for a bathroom at a state park in the middle of Nebraska; GO SOMEWHERE ELSE! Worst experience of the trip: going to the bathroom in the “black hole of death” in a Louisville, NE outhouse. Is that part of the rite of passage?! Despite the outhouses, this area had extremely beautiful scenery that I was actually starting to settle in and really enjoy the Nebraskan ambiance around. We collected wood for a fire, and although it took a few tries to get her going, she sparked and we had a rager right in front of us.
It felt good to put all that effort into building something and see it flourish, and fire looks magnificent when it flourishes, but like all things it must come to an end, and it did die out just about 11 at night. Sitting around our campfire that we built after exploring areas unchartered by us before was a beautiful moment, one of immense happiness (and remember, I am in search of happiness throughout the country on this trip). It was the last taste of happiness that I’d see in Nebraska.
As we settled in to sleep, so did the bugs right along with us. To try and prevent getting eaten alive, I covered myself with my sleeping bag which produced an unfathomable sweat-drenching heat. Finally at about 1, I couldn’t take it anymore and moved myself out to our one save haven, our deliverer of happiness, Rasselas (the car), where I encountered Jeff who had the same idea I did. Not long after, we were joined by Matt who also wanted shelter from the bugs. So it was Matt sprawled in the driver’s seat, Jeff in the passenger’s, and I lying across the back—And this is the same way we are traveling to Denver now. We got a few hours of sleep in eventually, after trying to block out the heat and the incessant freight train passing through at what seemed like half-hour intervals throughout the night.
Overall, I think my image of Nebraska was skewed. The people were generally affable and kind, the land we were on was beautiful, but something had been lingering ever since we crossed the Missouri—a feeling of “just getting out.” This feeling plagued us through Iowa’s long farm stretches, and lingered with us in Nebraska. This wasn’t our destination; we wanted Denver—a big city, with more fast-paced people like us. So no offense to Omaha—you were lovely—but we’re moving on to Denver (and early this morning) and you won’t be seeing me anytime too soon.
We walked all the way up Clark Street through Wrigleyville to Wrigley Stadium to find out that the Cubs game, of course, was sold out for the night. We were a bit bummed, but we went into a local bar, The Central, had a few cheap beers and caught the game against the Reds, which turned out to be rather uneventful anyway. Wrigleyville is an awesome part of town, with a million young people—and every girl in Chicago was good looking—and a million bars to choose from, and everyone is just out there having a good time routing for their team.
After we had had enough of watching the game on TV, we decided to walk back to our hotel to find out about the comedy group Second City. On our way, we were approached by a guy in a van who was drinking Old Style and playing his guitar. He said, “Guys, you have two options: Give a dollar or take a dollar.” Looking at the little box filled with dollars on the sidewalk, I was intrigued. So I went back and asked him why the two options. His response: “Well, if you needed the dollar, I’d understand and you could take it. But, looking at how you’re dressed, it seems you don’t really need the dollar, so if you took it, you’d be an asshole. But, who am I to judge? I’m just trying to get to a peace rally in Washington, D.C.” We asked this Portland, Oregon native, caught in the middle of the country trying to get across just like we were, to play us some blues and dropped a couple of dollars in his bin. Always support someone going cross country because they will certainly come across some struggles.
Second City, the comedy troupe home to Steve Carell, Stephen Colbert, Fred Willard, Eugene Levy, Bill Murray, Chris Farley and countless others, was hilarious. Once again, we didn’t plan ahead enough and missed their first show at 8, but we were lucky enough to catch the improvisational set at 10 for free, which I’m sure was just as funny. Definitely a must-see in Chicago.
On Thursday, we were on our way to Nebraska bright and early. The road through Illinois we had gotten used to: farmlands, occasional streams and rivers, nothing to really boast of. I do have to say that I-88 W in the Chicago suburbs is one of the worst roads in America – the construction and one lane really inspired some road rage in us. I was taken aback by the graciousness of a gas attendant in Rock Falls, Illinois who gave me a free cup of coffee with my gas that would be taking us through Iowa and into Nebraska.
We eventually hopped on I-80 (yes, the same road in Newark, NJ) and crossed the magnificent Mississippi River, the artery of America. It was a monumental moment on our trip; I felt fully enveloped into the West. The countryside of Iowa was beautiful picturesque farms, scaling along rolling farmhills that were right out of every farm painting you’ve ever seen. Singing “Getting’ Jiggy Wit’ It” and “Against the Wind” on I-80 by myself (my carmates were both dozing off) was complete happiness and carefreedom. We stopped in Cedar Rapids, a small, industrial city, to donate money to the Red Cross. While we were there, it was raining, and I could see the rivers were flooded and close to the bottoms of bridges. They seemed like they could need the money, so it was good to donate.
As I switched to a backseat passenger, I watched hawks soaring in the blue Iowan sky, and I sighed and thought of all that’s surrounding me. In the center of the country, I think of Chicago, Ohio, Pennsylvania, New Jersey and New York—times past, East. And Denver, Montana, Wyoming, Arizona, California—times to come, West. It is a glorious feeling of being in the heartland of this country, the roads east and west like the veins in our body pumping blood throughout in order to keep us alive.
Along the farm encrusted roads of Iowa, I was thinking back to a conversation Jeff and I had at lunch in Chicago on Wednesday. He asked me where I get my morals from. An unconventional question, yes, but one that I treasured, especially as I’m reading Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, which is about a cross-country trip in which the narrator is in search of values and morals. I had to answer that I attribute my morals to my entire family, from bottom to top—parents, sister, aunts, uncles, cousins & grandparents. I am extremely proud of my family and the values they’ve helped instill in me. Jeff remarked that this type of family values is rare these days, and he attributed his morals to his father, to whom he speaks very highly. Driving across a country is an excellent way to get to know geography, dialects, architecture, the different characteristics that make a country what it is, but it’s also an excellent way to find out the same characteristics about yourself and the people who travel with you, to find out what exactly makes up you and them.
We crossed over the Missouri River and into Nebraska, greeted by a welcome sign to the City of Omaha, which doesn’t have much of a downtown, pretty much what’s situated on the riverfront only. Our first stop in Nebraska was Sonic, where we had the infamous Sonic Blast. We went to Gorat’s Famous Stakes, where we had our first succulent and world-renowned Omaha Steaks, and they were extremely delicious. I felt a little out of place when there were gentlemen in the bathroom discussing their cattle and the waitress asked if we wanted more “pop.”
We arrived at our destination for the night, the Louisville Lakes State Recreation Area in Louisville, Nebraska. After setting up our tent on camping area 62, we explored the Platte River and the lakes surrounding it. I learned a life lesson here: do not wait for a bathroom at a state park in the middle of Nebraska; GO SOMEWHERE ELSE! Worst experience of the trip: going to the bathroom in the “black hole of death” in a Louisville, NE outhouse. Is that part of the rite of passage?! Despite the outhouses, this area had extremely beautiful scenery that I was actually starting to settle in and really enjoy the Nebraskan ambiance around. We collected wood for a fire, and although it took a few tries to get her going, she sparked and we had a rager right in front of us.
It felt good to put all that effort into building something and see it flourish, and fire looks magnificent when it flourishes, but like all things it must come to an end, and it did die out just about 11 at night. Sitting around our campfire that we built after exploring areas unchartered by us before was a beautiful moment, one of immense happiness (and remember, I am in search of happiness throughout the country on this trip). It was the last taste of happiness that I’d see in Nebraska.
As we settled in to sleep, so did the bugs right along with us. To try and prevent getting eaten alive, I covered myself with my sleeping bag which produced an unfathomable sweat-drenching heat. Finally at about 1, I couldn’t take it anymore and moved myself out to our one save haven, our deliverer of happiness, Rasselas (the car), where I encountered Jeff who had the same idea I did. Not long after, we were joined by Matt who also wanted shelter from the bugs. So it was Matt sprawled in the driver’s seat, Jeff in the passenger’s, and I lying across the back—And this is the same way we are traveling to Denver now. We got a few hours of sleep in eventually, after trying to block out the heat and the incessant freight train passing through at what seemed like half-hour intervals throughout the night.
Overall, I think my image of Nebraska was skewed. The people were generally affable and kind, the land we were on was beautiful, but something had been lingering ever since we crossed the Missouri—a feeling of “just getting out.” This feeling plagued us through Iowa’s long farm stretches, and lingered with us in Nebraska. This wasn’t our destination; we wanted Denver—a big city, with more fast-paced people like us. So no offense to Omaha—you were lovely—but we’re moving on to Denver (and early this morning) and you won’t be seeing me anytime too soon.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Chicago, IL - Night Two
Just a quick hello from Chicago, the first city that I fell in love with on this trip. Last night we went to a great restaurant right next to our hotel called Matisse, which specialized in Sangria. Then we went to the famous Kingston Mines, where we saw some incredible musicians - Joanna Connor was one of the greatest guitarists I've ever seen live. Matt and I stopped at a bar called Durkin's to try the beer that I've heard raved about called Fat Tire, and it was very good.
This morning I ran down by Lake Michigan, dangled my feet off a pier over the water, and truly fell in love with the beauty of this city. Jeff and I went on the architecture river tour this afternoon, where we saw and learned about a lot of the amazing buildings sitting on the Chicago River. It was a beautiful day for a cruise on the river. We all just got back from a great restaurant, Bella Bucino's, where we tried our first authentic deep-dish pizza.
Tonight we're going to go down to classic Wrigley Field and check out a Cubs game. Tomorrow, it's Iowa and Nebraska, where we'll be camping out tomorrow night. Adieu!
This morning I ran down by Lake Michigan, dangled my feet off a pier over the water, and truly fell in love with the beauty of this city. Jeff and I went on the architecture river tour this afternoon, where we saw and learned about a lot of the amazing buildings sitting on the Chicago River. It was a beautiful day for a cruise on the river. We all just got back from a great restaurant, Bella Bucino's, where we tried our first authentic deep-dish pizza.
Tonight we're going to go down to classic Wrigley Field and check out a Cubs game. Tomorrow, it's Iowa and Nebraska, where we'll be camping out tomorrow night. Adieu!
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Chicago, IL - Night One
I write tonight from Days Inn Lincoln Park in a beautiful section of Chicago, Illinois, a beautiful city situated on Lake Michigan, the first of the Great Lakes I have ever seen. Tonight we are going to go out on the town to celebrate Jeff's birthday, so I promise some more exciting and rowdy stories tomorrow. I am currently drinking a lovely "urban wheat beer," a very unassuming wheat beer brewed by Goose Island here in Chicago.
Today in Columbus, we explored Ohio State University, a big beautiful campus, and the town that surrounds it. The highlight of Columbus, however, was our visit to the White Castle corporate offices, where I talked to Sandina, who was in charge of the Cravers Hall of Fame. She gave me some advice for getting inducted into this prestigious group. We saw many items at this Hall of Fame and Museum, including an actual burger that Queen Elizabeth gave to the Hall of Fame to be preserved. Of course, after our trip here, we got the crave and had a few burgers of our own. Then we set off to beautiful Chicago.
The way here, however, wasn't as lovely or beautiful. US-33 W in Ohio is incredibly boring country. There was lots of grass, lots of farmland, barely any water. There were no hills or mountains, and every driver was a slow-driver who crawled along the highway. Western Ohio is the "flatlands of the east." We passed through the town of Lakeview, where we could barely see the lake. A water tower and lots of RVs/mobile homes greeted us in Lakeview instead. There were incredibly long country roads bisecting the US highway we were on--a highway with stoplights!
We came to a crossroads at a couple of points. Here is what I noticed on the corners: Dad's Drive-In (a sign read "God Bless America"); Pam's Pantry (sign: "Burger's & Brew's"); An old-style working phone booth across from "Coffee & Carry".
Matt, Jeff, and I discussed the quote "To travel is better than to arrive," which we disagreed with so far. As we got closer to Chicago, traveling along I-90 along the Lake, we were greatly anticipating our arrival, our destination in Chicago, that made the traveling through Ohio and Indiana look miserable.
The sky between Ohio & Indiana today was ominous and foreboding. Everywhere you looked around you was a surrounding gray with streaks of lightning fluttering in the distance. I was intrigued before we were submerged full-force into the deluge. The heavens poured down on us all the way over the Ohio/Indiana border on US-30. Indiana was drenched, soaked farmland from north to south, and east to west all the way to I-469.
Arcola Rest Area in Indiana was the sorriest rest area ever, with one man sitting in a closet-shaped office, watching truckers and a few travelers come in and out of the restroom, the only one for miles, with nothing else notable around. It pretty much summed up our travels through the state.
More from Chicago tomorrow...
Today in Columbus, we explored Ohio State University, a big beautiful campus, and the town that surrounds it. The highlight of Columbus, however, was our visit to the White Castle corporate offices, where I talked to Sandina, who was in charge of the Cravers Hall of Fame. She gave me some advice for getting inducted into this prestigious group. We saw many items at this Hall of Fame and Museum, including an actual burger that Queen Elizabeth gave to the Hall of Fame to be preserved. Of course, after our trip here, we got the crave and had a few burgers of our own. Then we set off to beautiful Chicago.
The way here, however, wasn't as lovely or beautiful. US-33 W in Ohio is incredibly boring country. There was lots of grass, lots of farmland, barely any water. There were no hills or mountains, and every driver was a slow-driver who crawled along the highway. Western Ohio is the "flatlands of the east." We passed through the town of Lakeview, where we could barely see the lake. A water tower and lots of RVs/mobile homes greeted us in Lakeview instead. There were incredibly long country roads bisecting the US highway we were on--a highway with stoplights!
We came to a crossroads at a couple of points. Here is what I noticed on the corners: Dad's Drive-In (a sign read "God Bless America"); Pam's Pantry (sign: "Burger's & Brew's"); An old-style working phone booth across from "Coffee & Carry".
Matt, Jeff, and I discussed the quote "To travel is better than to arrive," which we disagreed with so far. As we got closer to Chicago, traveling along I-90 along the Lake, we were greatly anticipating our arrival, our destination in Chicago, that made the traveling through Ohio and Indiana look miserable.
The sky between Ohio & Indiana today was ominous and foreboding. Everywhere you looked around you was a surrounding gray with streaks of lightning fluttering in the distance. I was intrigued before we were submerged full-force into the deluge. The heavens poured down on us all the way over the Ohio/Indiana border on US-30. Indiana was drenched, soaked farmland from north to south, and east to west all the way to I-469.
Arcola Rest Area in Indiana was the sorriest rest area ever, with one man sitting in a closet-shaped office, watching truckers and a few travelers come in and out of the restroom, the only one for miles, with nothing else notable around. It pretty much summed up our travels through the state.
More from Chicago tomorrow...
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