Moxie!

AUBURN, MAINE: This update will be nowhere near as substantial as my last trip, but I thought I'd give a little write-up to my overnight trip to Maine. Julia's dad had to pick up Julia's brother at school up in Maine, and I volunteered to accompany him and help with the driving. I hadn't been on the road for a while, and the appeal of a trip to a place I'd never been was something I couldn't resist.

Travelling with someone else makes for a decidedly different experience from travelling alone. There's less of the craziness that comes with being alone with one's thoughts for a long stretch. On my trip into the West, there were stretches when I convinced myself that the iPod also functioned as a radar detector. No such lunacy this time; conversation with another person keeps the mind well-grounded.

We left Reading at 7:00, and proceeded north by way of Kutztown onto I-78 east. My future father-in-law was doing the driving at this point, leaving me to appreciate the bucolic countryside scenery, something less possible on a solo trip. Here's another weird thing about travelling with someone else: you don't get to pick the route. This is easier, since I knew he'd been this way before, but also constricting. I liked that when I went West I just looked at the road map and picked my route on the fly, sometimes while driving. Still, the way he went was not far off from what I'd have chosen.

I took over driving in New Jersey, somewhere around Clinton, a place I'd been before to purchase a box fan. I'd thought driving a van would be harder, but I adjusted pretty quickly. We continued northeast around New York City, crossing the Hudson at the Tappan Zee bridge. I'd been this way before on a trip to Connecticut last Thanksgiving to visit family. We then winded our way into Massachusetts, stopping in Chelmsford to purchase model railroading supplies.

We arrived after a fashion in Lewiston, Maine, and packed up my future brother-in-law's room and loaded the van. We drove over to Freeport for dinner, stopping by the L.L. Bean store while we were there. The dinner was quite good, as well, much better than the fare I provided myself with when I travelled alone (no disrespect to Arby's and Cracker Barrel, mind you.) We returned to our hotel, across the river from Lewiston in Auburn, and slept.

Before we left, we picked up a case of Moxie, the peculiar New England soda. Ever since I heard Calvin Coolidge liked it, I've wanted to give it a try. The verdict: not bad. Kind of like root beer, with an admixture of Robitussin.

That day saw the same trip as the day before in reverse, minus the model railroading store, and with the addition of a driving rain the entire time. Although it took longer, we had a good book on tape and we eventually arrived home just as the rain was ending.

I don't expect to have anymore roadtrips this summer, aside from my honeymoon, which I will not be blogging. Still, there are ten states I haven't visited yet, and other places beyond, so watch this site, eventually, for more tales of travel.

There and Back Again

PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA: In the battle between sports and music, the victor was sports and I got on the road to Canton early this morning. After all, why listen to the marching band when you can see the team play? So I arrived in Canton just as the Football Hall of Fame opened. The place was pretty cool, but not all that big. I took pictures of all the old-time Eagles stuff and, of course, a picture of a certain running back's bust. The place was pretty cool, and it didn't actually take that long to go through.

Since I still had some time, I drove over to the William McKinley monument and museum, which is also in Canton. There was an enormous grave site and memorial. Next to that was a small museum of various things that included a McKinley wing. It had lots of his artifacts and memorabilia, and some of those creepy talking robots that museums sometimes have. Overall, Canton seemed like a pretty nice town and, unlike some places I visited this summer, there's actually something to do.

Now it was time to get on the road. After one last stop at Arby's in Youngstown, I got on I-80 and started the drive across Pennsylvania. The rain started then, and didn't let up until I got to Allentown. These were the worst driving conditions I've seen the whole trip, though my parents assure me it's been raining all week here. The visibility was pretty poor, and I pulled over to a few rest stops just to wait out the worst of it.

Still, it was nice to be home. The gas station in Hazelton stocked Tastykakes, and I had to buy one, even after only two-and-a-half weeks' absence. I got back on the highway, and once the rain let up the Northeast Extension and the Turnpike moved pretty quickly. And then I was back home in the Great Northeast.

After 24 states and 7709 miles, the old Camry held up pretty well. I hope you've all enjoyed the pictures and the stories. The blog will go dormant for a while since the only place I'll be going in the next few weeks is work. But there are still more states and provinces to see, and I'll let you know when the next leg of the exploration of America takes place. Thanks for all the comments and suggestions along the way - it made the trip easier to know that there would be messages waiting for me at each stop along they way. Well, that's all there is to tell. See you around the country.

Eastward I go

INDEPENDENCE, OHIO: The eastward drive continued today, amid a little rain but mostly just clouds. It's a problem of moving east instead of west that I have less time to make stops while still traveling a reasonable distance. When I was traveling with the sun, I had time for three or four stops a day. Now, crossing the time zones the wrong way, I travel the same distance with only a few delusory pit stops. Stupid time zones.

Such was my trip to Battle Creek, Michigan. I had thought to see the Kellogg museum, Cereal City USA, but by the time I got there it was already getting late. So, I took a brief look around the city and went on my way. The picture at right is actually a Methodist church, not the cool old-time train station or city hall it appeared to me to be.

So, back on the road, I sped through the rest of Michigan and into Ohio. On the turnpike I got really hungry and had to resort to a Hardee's, a chain I had considered only one step above a Sbarro. Apparently, they've updated their menu, and now it's not half bad. They're pushing this "Philly Cheesesteak Thickburger" which is apparently a burger topped with cheesesteak meat. It seemed interesting, but like so many non-Philadelphians, they felt the need to add green peppers and Swiss cheese. I stuck with a regular burger, and it was pretty good. By the time I got here (a suburb of Cleveland,) it was too late for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, so I'll try to get there tomorrow. On the other hand, the Football Hall of Fame is just over in Canton. Hmmm...I'll make that a game-time call.

Not much else to tell, so I'll crib a little quotation from Thoreau to round it out:

"Eastward I go only by force; but westward I go free. It is hard for me to believe that I shall find fair landscapes or sufficient wildness and freedom behind the eastern horizon. I am not excited by the prospect of a walk thither; but I believe that the forest which I see in the western horizon stretches uninterruptedly toward the setting sun, and there are no towns nor cities in it of enough consequence to disturb me. Let me live where I will, on this side is the city, on that the wilderness, and ever I am leaving the city more and more, and withdrawing into the wilderness.... I must walk toward Oregon, and not toward Europe."

Rained Out

RACINE, WISCONSIN: It started raining right as I left Worthington this morning, and continued all the way across Minnesota. It continued as I crossed into Wisconsin, and got heavier all the way to Madison. What this all meant was that traffic slowed down and I didn't get much in the way of sightseeing done. I had planned on touring the Old Style brewery in La Crosse, Wisconsin, but it was closed on Sunday, as was the restaurant attached to it. So I ate lunch at a McDonald's and got back on the road but when I got to the next stop, Madison, the rain was heavier than ever. Since my planned stops at the state capitol building and State Street were outside, I relunctantly stayed on the highway as traffic crept along. If you're interested, there's a nice picture of the capitol on the city's website.

About halfway to Milwaukee, I managed to outrun the storm and the traffic resumed a regular highway pace. I got a nice view of Miller Park on the way downtown, but the Brewers are out of town today. I got off the highway and drove to the Miller Brewery. I figured there would be no tour on a Sunday, but I hoped there would be a gift shop, or even a taproom. No such luck; the place was closed up completely. I took a picture of the sign, just because I hadn't used the camera all day. After a series of detours around construction, I got back on I-94 and headed for Racine. If it sounds familiar, it's probably because one of the teams in A League of Their Own played here. Anyway, I walked over to the Country Kitchen for an enormous seven-dollar chicken-fried steak and the company of old people, then returned to the room. Hopefully, tomorrow will have better weather.

Dead Presidents

WORTHINGTON, MINNESOTA: I started out the day at the most American of places: Mount Rushmore. This place strikes at the heart of the American take on hero-worship. In Europe in the old days, people treated their kings like demi-gods. Then we had our revolution and got rid of all that. Our leaders were just regular guys doing an important job: no hero- worship, no demi-god. And yet, people seem to have this need to worship one of our own, even if for no reason (hence celebrity magazines). So early Americans repressed the hero-worship impulse, but eventually it had to explode. And when it did, we did it bigger and better than anyone had ever done: we carved giant heads onto a mountain.

Yeah, that's good stuff. It's strange to see a place thousands of times in pictures, then to show up there in real life. I mean, I goof on it, but it is pretty awesome, in the original sense of the word. There was a good crowd here, too. Talk about creating a tourist attraction. The Black Hills are pretty nice, but there's no way all of these people would have showed up if there had not been four dead presidents carved into the hills. Good marketing by the state, or whoever decided that it should go here.

The next stop was Rapid City for lunch, then onto another wonder of the plains, Wall Drug. This is not related to Wal-Mart, but rather is named after the town in which it is located, Wall, South Dakota. No, that is not a joke. This place started out as a drug store, and later expanded into different stores across several blocks, all connected. You find the same variety of shopping choices as in a shopping mall, but they're all the same company. Last night, in the dark, I drove past the geographic center of the United States. Today, though, I found the center of old-timey Americana, and it is Wall Drug. I bought a t-shirt.

After that, it was a straight, fast drive for the state line. As you travel east, South Dakota flattens out and greens up and looks more like the Midwest than the Great Plains. I crossed the Missouri River and then the Minnesota line, and sadly said good-bye to 75 mph speed limits and giant stone heads of presidents.

Lonely Roads

DEADWOOD, SOUTH DAKOTA: I left Missoula early enough, I supposed, to get in a decent day's drive. I planned on driving into Deadwood, and even reserved a hotel room there, this being the weekend and all. After crossing the Clark Fork River a few more times (I-90 parallels this river for much of western Montana,) I crossed the continental divide for the last time. I couldn't help thinking that the Clark valley must have been even more beautiful before the interstate came through. Of course, without the interstate, most people would never have seen it.

I kept on driving east after another delicious Arby's sandwich, and the state of Montana just kept going. It seems obvious that the states are bigger out here, but actually crossing them truly drives home the point. Around 2:00, I began to worry that I would not arrive in Deadwood at a reasonable time, but a quick look at the map reassured me and I drove on. My first scheduled stop was in the far eastern part of Montana. The town of Hardin, in addition to being on the way to Little Big Horn, holds the Big Horn County Museum. This is more than the one-room museums I'd seen before, and actually includes a few buildings restored to 1910 style, which seems to be this area's heyday. I took a picture of the one-room schoolhouse.

Leaving Hardin, I took the short drive to the Little Big Horn battlefield which is, strangely, on an Indian reservation. Or maybe it's not so strange, since they won the battle. I didn't stay long, and took a state highway "short-cut" to I-94. This short-cut was actually shorter in distance and would've been shorter in time if not for the construction being done on it. Still, I don't think I lost any time, as going back and forth along interstates would've taken me far out of my way. After getting to I-94, the road became more desolate. Not scary, creepy desolate, but just free of a lot of traffic. The greatest sign of activity I saw was the bird that commited suicide by flying directly into the path of the speeding Camry. It disappeared in a puff of feathers, and left no trace on the car. Most of the land here is used as cattle ranches, and I saw lots of cows taking shelter from the sun in the shade of billboards along the highway's edge. The best was the McDonald's billboard a few were hanging out under. If only they'd been able to read!

The next stop was Marmarth, North Dakota, so I left the interstate and drove east on U.S. 12. Some of you may be wondering why I would drive to an old railroad town with a population of 140. Well, Julia's grandmother was born here and when I planned the trip Marmarth wasn't too far out of my way. I had changed my plans a bit, but this way still seemed as good as any other. By the time I rolled in to the town it was 7:30, but still plenty bright with sunshine. I slowed down to the town's 25 mph speed limit (this is the problem with the U.S. roads rather than interstates - towns have ridiculously low speed limits, and because I expect some small-town cop to be hiding behind each corner, I observe them.) And, finally I entered Marmarth, which has to be the saddest town in America (actual ghost towns excepted.) Some houses were occupied and reasonably kept up, but every single commercial building was abandoned (including the two in the picture here and at least three of four on the town's website) with the sole exception of a small bar/restaurant. I suppose this is to be expected when the railroad doesn't stop here anymore (the town's depot still stood, abandoned) and the auto traffic is re-routed to the interstate. Still, seeing a dead town full of empty buildings is far sadder than seeing one of the two-building towns along the way. Not many folks live in either one, but Marmarth used to be something worth seeing.

I drove on, growing more concerned about getting to Deadwood. A closer look at the map told me I had at least 150 miles to go, all along U.S. 85. 85 proved to be emptier than 12, with only farms, roadkill, and the occasional opposing traffic to keep me company. I drove on, and on, and by 10:00 the sun had gone down for good. Fortunately, the road is straight and well-signed, and my high beams kept me where I needed to be. I was just hoping to get off the road, and was having paranoid imaginings of deer jumping in front of my car.

My heart leapt for joy as I saw ahead the lights of the metropolis of Belle Fourche, South Dakota. I had given up on Deadwood, and just wanted any clean room for the night, and the "clean" was looking less and less important. But a stop in a few hotels quickly failed to produce a vacancy. The clerk at the Motel 6 even called around to other hotels, but all were full and she suggested I drive ten miles south to Spearfish, along the interstate. The interstate! Why had I ever left it?!? I drove on to Spearfish but, there too, there was no room at the inn.

By now, I was considering sleeping in the car, but those same visions of angry cops not taking kindly to me kept me awake and driving forward. By this point it was 10:30 or so, and I was only twenty miles from Deadwood. Would they still hold my reservation? If not, perhaps some other lodging might be found. The Deadwood area, I was learning was the single greatest tourist attraction of the northern plains. I drove into town (did you know there are casinos here?) and past a number of hotels, some with the "no vacancy" sign up, and pulled up to the Super 8. I haven't named names much here, and after a bad experience in upstate New York on a different trip, I'd been avoiding Super 8s. But that's where I had my reservation, and a more welcome site I never did see.

I pulled in and walked up to the desk where a man and a woman were working.

"I have a reservation here. I don't suppose you still have it, do you?" I said, expect more rejection. The woman looked at her papers.

"Are you Kyle or Matthew?" she said. Wow, these folks are on the ball!

"Kyle," I said. "Is the reservation still open?"

"Well, of course," the man said with a big grin on his bearded face, "you reserved it with a credit card!"

And so I had! I'd forgotten that part as I'd talked to myself for the last few hours.

"If I'm going to pay for it," I said, "I guess I may as well sleep in it."

He laughed, and we chatted a little as he processed the information. Thank God for friendly hotel keepers and credit cards. I went upstairs, and directly to bed. I think I'll drive a bit less today than I did yesterday (852 miles) and I'll definitely make a reservation for Minnesota.

Hail Columbia

MISSOULA, MONTANA: Lots of driving today and not much sight-seeing. The problem is, there's not much between Seattle and Missoula in terms of tourist attractions. That added to the fact that I got a late start from watching the USA-Ghana soccer match this morning meant that I spent most of the day behind the wheel. Still, there was lots to see from the driver's seat. I drove from Aberdeen to Olympia where I picked up I-5 to Seattle. I then turned onto I-90, the longest highway in the country (Seattle to Boston).

I-90 runs through a bunch of mountain ranges, various parts of the Cascades and Rockies, creating many scenic views. The first of these that I stopped for was an overlook just past the highway bridge over the Columbia River. There in Eastern Washington, the deep greens of the Pacific Northwest give way to the drier, browner lands where the mountains have blocked much of the rain blowing off the ocean. Sometimes the "vista points" advertised from the road turn out to be boring views that make me regret I even pulled over. But this one was worth the stop:


After that I kept on along the same route across Idaho and through the Lookout Pass into Montana. The mountains here were greener with pine trees than the hills of Eastern Washington were. Again, I didn't see much, but I wanted to get a decent day's drive behind me. Tomorrow, hopefully, I'll have more time to stop and more interesting things to report.

Come as you are

ABERDEEN, WASHINGTON: I traveled north through Oregon to Washington yesterday. There was a quick stop in Portland for lunch, but not too much to tell. The downtown area is pretty nice, as is the downtown mall, much to my surprise. Anyone from Philly will understand why I doubt that another town's version of the Gallery will be nice, but it seems like other cities are better at this sort of thing. There was some bookstore I was supposed to check out while I was there, but I couldn't find it and didn't feel like asking anyone. Instead, I strolled the streets, bought a shirt, and went on my way.

The next stop was Aberdeen, where my sister (Jess) and brother-in-law (Kris) live, along with two cats and a dog. I took the drive slowly because I knew my sister didn't get off from work until 4:00, and I managed to arrive at around the right time. We went down to one of the local taprooms for dinner, then came back to the house and watched movies. The next day, I got the oil changed in my car. After lunch, we went to the beach with the dog.

There's not much to do here, so I'll talk about some general observances of the West. One thing that stands out when driving around out here is that there are tons of hitchhikers. In Philly and its surrounds, I never see anyone hitchhiking, but out here they're everywhere. None of them look like the sort of folk I'd want in my car, but somebody must be picking them up. Here's another thing: hardly any mosquitoes. Back East, we would be entering the height of mosquito season. Here, I haven't had one bite yet. In Berkeley, Tim's house didn't even have screens! One more thing that's different here is the hair: lots of beards and long hair on men. In Philly, the Willie Nelson look is pretty rare, but it's still going strong in the American West.