At High Noon on the Solstice, Kelly and Beth will embark on an epic journey across America. With the top down, they will enjoy the sun on their face and the wind in their hair as they cruise the back roads and odd roadside attractions of the continent - trying (although perhaps not very hard) to stay out of trouble.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Overpopulation Concerns Force U.S. To Reopen South Dakota
A relevant news bit... says more than our blog ever could. Thank you, Onion!
Overpopulation Concerns Force U.S. To Reopen South Dakota December 1, 2006 Issue 42•49 WASHINGTON, DC—Secretary of the Interior Dirk Kempthorne announced yesterday that, in order to deal with a growing population that just passed 300 million, the U.S. will reopen the immense, barren region known as South Dakota for the first time since it was shuttered in 1931. "Though no human being has stepped foot on that desolate soil for the better part of a century, we believe it is the best option for addressing the overcrowding we see in the country's habitable states," Kempthorne said. "The great, uncharted territory of South Dakota is henceforth open, with plenty of space for anyone who wants it—anyone at all." According to Kempthorne, if national population continues to grow at this rate, his agency may consider lifting the federal ban on non-Mormon residents in Utah.
The town. The ball. The legend. Yep, it’s a mighty big ball of twine. But the museum was closed. Although it was satisfying to have enjoyed this in person. Heh! We also took a poke around Twine Ball Antiques for all of our T-shirt, postcard, and antiquing needs, and spent a great deal of time in there mostly just to enjoy the heavy Fran McDormand in Fargo-like accents of the two women proprietresses chatting over a cup of coffee. And yes, we did here “Dontcha know?” All is right in the world.
Next stop: Mall of America. You’ve been to a mall, right? Well, there you go. We did score a wicked good parking spot at America’s largest mall, though – that never happens in Jersey.
Inside: Mall of America
We scooted through Minneapolis, which seems like a pleasant enough place, actually. Tried to find the lemonade stand of young Ethan, whom we had learned had significantly boosted sales by wearing a suit and tie to work. But he seemed to be taking a sickie or was off at camp or something, so we were a bit disappointed. And then got stuck in rush hour traffic as a result. Humph.
Beth Tyler Moore - She's Gonna Make it After All!
Lazy Ethan's "Lemonade Stand"
From Minnesota, we pushed hard through to Madison, Wisconsin, a lovely town where we found the best restaurant! Called Dardanelles, go there! It’s a Mediterranean place with a delicious lemon chicken and amazing Banana Cloud dessert (bananas, custard, whipped cream, cashews, perfection.) Then we had our fortunes read with our Turkish coffee grounds and had a nice long chat with the proprietress. A surprisingly reaffirming night after a couple days of mediocre. We set up camp just outside of Madison at a weird and ultimately GROSSLY OVERPRICED trailer park. $40 for pitching our tent and using the bathroom. There was no differentiation between full on trailer hookups making heavy use of the facilities and us. And they were super rude. We could (and should) have just packed up and left in the morning and they would never have known we were there. Gar!
On, Wisconsin!
Lunch in Sandwich, Ill-i-no-ah
At this point, the trip really begins to wind down… we stopped to buy some cheese, it being Wisconsin and all, then crossed over back into Illinois, and found ourselves back in already-tread territory. We made it a point to stop for lunch in Sandwich, IL, just because and then succumbed to the highways until we camped out just outside of Cleveland at what –appeared- to be a posh little site. As it was our last night, we entered the brand new pine lodge to settle on a site and decided to opt for the ‘cabin’, imagining it to be of the nice new pine lodge variety we were standing in. Oh, hell no. This place was ghetto, with a twig holding the window open and mothbally dank smell… it was comically awful, actually.
But it was also Christmas in July, with a contest for best decorated trailer! We drove around looking at the Christmas lights and were pulled over for our fifth and final time in the past month by an old lady on a golf cart. You gotta just see for yourself…
So, we enjoyed a box of wine and toasted a wonderful trip in a wonderful country with a wonderful friend. What an amazing journey…
North Oklahoma (more popularly known as South Dakota)
Thursday 20 July Day of Kelly
Welcome to South Dakota, or, as we come to think of it, North Oklahoma. Lacking the spectacularness of Wyoming and Montana, we could tell we’d left The West and were now in the Mid-West. Not nearly as dramatic sounding, even, and for good reason. To keep this interesting, we knew we’d need a special attraction… time for Day of Kelly.
I almost don’t want to give this state too many column inches so here’s the skinny:
Mount Rushmore? Worst excuse for a National Park in the system. A state that needs to carve some presidential heads into a mountain to create a tourism industry is questionable at best. Plus, our National Parks Passport, which had let us into YELLOWSTONE for free, did not gain us a waiver on the $9 parking fee at rainy Rushmore. My friend Kathy had helpfully told us NOT to pay – it is not worth it – you can see Rushmore from the road and it doesn’t look any different once you’re inside. So, I had to forgo my passport stamp (gar!) and stood in the rain for my portrait. We headed back into the tourist trap town and had lunch (fajitas!), wandered a brief little bit and then hit the road, stopping again at Wall Drug.
Wall Drug is another weirdo tourist ‘attraction’, essentially the South of the Border of the Midwest. It is a tourist attraction built around being a tourist attraction. There is no there there! Just gift shoppes… and plenty of photo ops perfect for Day of Kelly.
Back on the road and driving fast. So fast, that Beth got friendly with (but not friendly enough) one of the locals, a nice guy named Josh.
SoDak's Finest
But it was no sleep ‘til Minnesota, and we were determined to make it to Darwin in order to see the Ball of Twine first thing. Midge (our GPS) let us down a bit with some botched hotel and campground citing, but one of Darwin’s friendly cops pointed us to a not-too-shady destination. Too bad the morning receptionists were totally… erm, not customer friendly and Beth and I left flipping them the one-finger salute. This trip was definitely winding down.
We were woken by the park ranger to collect our fees. He also provided information that I’m frankly very glad that we didn’t learn the night before. Apparently, this is the first time in 20 years that they had been allowing tent camping due to the heavy bear activity. He told nice, creepy stories of tent campers being mauled by bears, and gave a detailed account of the three bears that he knows have been active in the area (one broke into someone’s garage a few miles away). Lovely. We packed up quickly and headed out in the Snaab (which a bear could open like a tin can, by the way).
Sir Guano stands, unmauled.
Our national parks passport ruled: we rolled to Yellowstone in the high season with the $25 fee waived and proceeded to ‘car sightsee’, very ‘Merican. We made our way slowly amongst the caravan of cars toward Old Faithful and managed to be rightly astounded by the landscape the entire way. Little mini-geysers, pristine meadows and crystal clear streams occasionally dotted with picturesque fly-fishermen. Wow. Clearly, we could have lingered here for years, but as we were now on our way home and time was running low, we kept to our maxim adopted in Chicago that we could spend cursory time in places to which we KNEW we’d return and thus not feel so bad that we weren’t moving in immediately. We’ll be back.
Straight outta central casting...
Old Faithful blew, and though the setting was beautiful, that is not the reason I will return to Yellowstone. It pretty much looked like it should.
Yup, Old Faithful.
The geyser is right behind us. You think the geezer whom we asked to take our picture might have thought to include that...
We got back on the road and continued to head for the Northeast entrance. Stopped for lunch at a quiet spot with a view of the lake. Best PBJ with a view since… well, the night before.
The rest of the drive was just stunning and more stunning. Kind of like driving through the desert where Beth and I just got so frustrated, wondering what to do with all of the beauty, always wanting to pull over so we could, do what? Look harder?
Soon we came upon a couple of cars stopped in the middle of the road, which we thought a bit inconsiderate until we saw what they were ogling: a grizzly bear! In the wild, feeding by the side of the road! Yes, we had the top down but we were a safe distance away and on the other side of the road and there were about five other large cars parked between us and the bear so I was aware but not at this point concerned. Beth, as it turns out, felt a bit differently, especially when Kelly got out of the car to get a closer look. Public opinion seems divided on this issue, as Kelly still believes she was being quite safe, but suffice it to say that there is now a turn of phrase used which asks if an idea is ‘just crazy or grizzly bear crazy?’ And, yes, I know they can run 30 mph…
Stephen Col-Bear.
So, both of us managed to leave without being mauled by a bear, thus a successful day. We then headed to Cody, Wyoming, which does have a rodeo every night, but otherwise the main attraction seems to be that it is Cody, WY. I couldn’t quite figure out what it is famous for… fake shootouts staged nightly at 6 pm on a sidestreet? Check. Proximity to Yellowstone? Check, I guess. Chill coffeehouse owned by a guy who likes climbing? Check… but, again, a bit underwhelming and yet still oddly touristy.
As we had entered the hell-for-leather segment of the trip, we resumed our eastward trail through remote Wyoming. This huge state has only 400,000 people, and apparently most of them are selling t-shirts with cowboys on them in Cody. It was sparse out there and created in me this most wonderful sensation. True emptiness… I would love to know what it would be like to live out there, even for a little bit.
We stopped for dinner and gas at Dirty Annie’s and wondered why the cowboy hat wearing locals chewing the fat in rockers on the porch (no exaggeration) were giving us funny looks. So we asked if we were doing something wrong as we went for the gas pump (very retro too… not digital at all and a $2 taped in front of the price window, which only had two digit placeholders!). The reply was “Well, you pull up in a convertible Saab with Massachusetts plates and then you’ve got that LED thing running on your license plate – yeah, we’re lookin’. We’re just a buncha hillbillies”. Okay. But they must be used to this a bit, because I don’t imagine it’s the locals buying all the touristy gift paraphernalia at the massive Dirty Annie’s gift shop. So, some greasy food later and we were back on the highway – determined to wake up in…
We learned a bit about patience in Idaho, a lesson I have tried to impart to you remaining faithful readers by letting the remainder of the blog come in it’s own good time.
Tuesday July 18 We woke up in our elevated campsite by the great rushing river, breathing in the crisp pine air under clear blue skies. Fantastic! We lingered over breakfast and packed up and headed back out onto Route 12, keeping to the winding river.
Sir Guano on a pedestal
View from the Campsite...
We stopped for gas and I decided that it was of critical importance that the Snaab get a much-needed bath (his last washing was in Vegas – some 2,000 miles and 10 days ago!). We headed back out through Podunk, ID and as we crossed the railroad tracks, noticed an odd traffic jam building up. Appears that the only road through to Missoula, our mid-day goal, was going to be shut down for at least two hours due to an accident up the road. Now, familiar as we are with the more densely developed Northeast, we asked for the best alternate route. Apparently, there is no real alternate route, save for driving about 150 miles out of our way. In these parts, when the road’s closed, you don’t get to Missoula as quickly as you’d like to. Kelly, ever anxious to be putting some pavement behind us, tried to head off in search of some ‘side roads’ that might lead us past the wreck. So, we climbed up in to the hills, ultimately riding 6 miles down a dirt and gravel road only to end up exactly back where we’d started. Lesson learned: listen to the locals, chill out and enjoy the ride – plus any unexpected little detours.
Off-roading in Idaho
View of the evergreens from our little side trip...
We headed back into Podunk for an early lunch at a nice little God-fearing tea shoppe. Hum. By the time we were done (with some tasty pie in us, a welcome bonus!), the road had cleared and we eventually rolled into Missoula at about 5 pm. Found a pretty cool coffee shop that was having “a band in from New York!!!” that night, and thus was closing at 6 mp. So we chilled for a bit, but ultimately found Missoula a bit disappointing. I was expecting more from Montana, really.
Well, apparently what Montana lacks in small town charm is more than made up for in redeeming it’s Big Sky Country reputation. Pretty darned amazing, no?
I could live here...
Purple mountains majesty indeed!
Magical... This Driver's Dream...
We just had to pull over and indulge in a fine meal befitting the spectacular setting: PBJ and spray cheese on Ritz. Aaaah… Kelly pondered the litter factor of throwing a bread crust on the ground – is food matter technically polluting or littering? Beth said that this does count as littering, Kelly did this anyway and was promptly rewarded by spilling her diet Coke all over herself. Instant karma’s gonna get ya. (she did, then, retrieve the offensive bread crust).
The colors of the sunset and the purple mountains majesty were just overwhelming, and the sensation continued as the sunset dissolved into the starriest night I’d ever seen. Though it was cold, Kelly begged Beth to have the top down as we drove a bit, listening to some chill music about the moon and stars, Kelly achieved what she has set out for some 8,000 miles ago: driving nirvana. Fahrvergnugen. Heavenly…
We set up camp at a state park site located just outside of Yellowstone, but as we were quite after hours, we were greeted with just this sign:
And so to sleep...
This freaked Beth out a bit, but we both decided that it must be a formality – some sort of thing they have to post everywhere in the region just for liability purposes, not because of frequent bear maulings. We decided to enjoy the stars and not over-react and fell asleep to the sound of heavy snoring in neighboring tents that Kelly repeatedly had to reassure Beth was not the sound of rummaging bears.
Wow! This state is so Great that we've stayed for the past month. We want to hang around until November so we can Vote for Pedro.
Actually, it is all Kelly's fault as she has not been blog-inspired since landing a few weeks ago and enjoying a spate of 100-un-air-conditioned-degree weather followed by a flotilla of visitors and an as-yet-unresolved Crate & Barrell sofa saga. But there will be an exciting conclusion, I promise!
We woke up in Wyeth, OR at the lovely state park, rolled up Sir Guano and hopped back in the Snaab. We had planned the return journey to be more focused - less wandering, more highways. Lots more driving... so off we went!
The highway driving was still stunning - huge mountains, green green trees and a wide river. We planned on lunching in Walla Walla, WA, where Kelly wanted to check out Whitman College. Turns out there's a lot of Whitman attraction around here, including my own National Park! Seems Narcissa and Marcus Whitman were missionaries from Boston in the early 1800's. Narcissa was the first white woman to travel this far west and Marcus's return trip included one of the first wagon trains to cover what would become the Oregon Trail. Due to some poorly explained "misunderstandings" including a measles outbreak that killed off half of the local Cayusa tribe of Native Americans, Marcus and Narcissa and their children were killed in the "Whitman Massacre". Oh, dear. I did not know such an event existed.
Anyway, there is also a fine liberal arts college nearby where Kelly wanted to stop for a merchandising marathon. While the bookstore was closed due to recent flooding, the kind woman who worked there let me in the back storeroom to stock up on tshirts and stuff (Mom and Dad, guess what you're gifts are?). We had already camped out in the comfy leather sofas upstairs to post our last series of updates via the free wi-fi network. Late in the afternoon, we became a bit peckish and noticed young peoples filing into the dining hall area. Donning by baseball cap and Beth's iPod, we easily passed for young college kids and enjoyed a free burger meal. Yay! We love Whitman!
Just add an iPod and a baseball cap, and there's no telling this 30 year old woman from a young co-ed...
We left Walla Walla and made for Idaho, where we soon set up our best campsite to date: under a gazillion and two stars and next to the Snake River quite in the middle of nowhere. On an elevated tent site, no less! It was a great night in a great state.
After a veeeerrrryyy leisurely morning/afternoon (I think each of us woke up at separate points thinking “Well, if they’re both still asleep…”), we devoured a sinful brunch of “Bismarck” with strawberries and whipped cream, did some laundry, and headed into town. Our first stop was Eugene’s annual Hemp fest, which was not so much a celebration of Hemp as much as a pot paraphernalia and advocacy show. Just as we were leaving, Kelly was attracted by the Henna tattoo booth, gave a holla when she noticed the Saturn symbol, which she decided would be most fitting on her driving foot. Perhaps there was too much Hempy haze in the air, as she started giving serious consideration to obtaining a more permanent version. She’s still considering doing so, in fact…
Saturn returns... all over Kelly's foot.
Happy Hempfest!
Only the second lemonade stand of the trip...
We cruised some more through downtown Eugene – such a great town! Stopped at a lemonade stand (only our 2nd of the trip) and then scooted home to make a picnic dinner for the evening’s entertainment – a concert featuring local band and growing global sensation, Pink Martini! The opening act was the March 4th Marching Band, which Meg had happened across one afternoon in Portland, OR – they are a carnival band that pretty much embodies what would result if the band geeks, the edgy artsy kids, and the thespians had cross-bred in high school. Bloody amazing! A quick glance through their website suggests that they mostly play the Oregon area, but we heard that they recently had performed at the World Cup in Germany and also are reigning World Carnival Band Champions, so hopefully the future will bring them further afield. It’s an amazing show, with the funkiest marching band you’ve ever seen, accompanied by dancers on stilts – almost like Cirque du Soliel.
March 4th Marching Band Performer
Then, of course, was Pink Martini – Meg and I have only just discovered them, but Beth was super enthusiastic when Meg mentioned they were in town, and now we know why. Jazzy, loungy, funky and fun, they perform songs from all cultures in about a dozen different languages. We couldn’t help but dance – when we could finally rouse ourselves from laying in the grass under the summer evening sky. We love Eugene! (The town, not the Steve alter ego. Well, we love him, too, but very differently).
16 July 2006 Eugene…
Woke up, and had brunch at this groovy little hippy with the biggest pancake Beth has ever confronted. We then dropped Beth off for her afternoon of grooming where she adopted a new hairstyle we’ve dubbed the “Mob” – party up front, business in the back – sort of like the Bada-Bing – the opposite of a mullet. Despite the description, it works, and she loooooks maaaahvelous.
Tasty O.J.! Massive Pan Cake
Meg and Kelly wandered around town browsing at many shops selling incense and Kelly hippied out a bit, buying a book on Buddhism and pondering some Nag Champa. I do believe that the henna was being absorbed by the bloodstream. It was nice to feel chill – I can’t imagine being tense in Eugene. It’s the Goldilocks town and really the first along the entire trip that we could both imagine moving to (outside of anywhere in Oklahoma, of course). Watch out, Meg! We strolled through the University of Oregon to get the best ice cream in town, and then sadly had to depart. We said goodbye to our last friendly face ‘til home. Driving north to Portland, we saw the snow capped Mt. Hood in the distance and then turned East for the first time in 3.5 weeks. We drove along I-84, which follows the majestic Columbia River gorge and made camp at Wyeth. For the next week, we’ll have the wind at our backs, all the way to Delaware.
An overcast day and an extremely winding stretch of the PCH between the Golden Gate and Stinson Beach did not prove to be a good combination for our Taco Bellies, so we were a bit sullen for our first few hours after San Francisco. Eventually, the winsome coast worked its magic, and as the roads mellowed out a bit, we enjoyed the ride, heading into Mendocino just before sunset. We found a beautifully located campsite just north of the little artsy village, poised just offshore, about ¼ mile behind a working lighthouse. The coast was shrouded in mist, making a great effect with the light beam. If silent, we could here the surf in the distance. We set up Sir Guano and sat down to our dinner of leftover chicken and potatoes, and, realizing that it was our three-week anniversary on the road, we marked the occasion with a Cabernet Sauvignon juice box that Beth had found at the Whole Foods. It was remarkably good, as was that chicken, which even held up under Kelly’s EZ Cheez test.
To celebrate our third week on the road, Beth presents a fine cabernet. Mmmmm... leftover chicken...
13 July 2006 After a remarkably good night’s sleep (aided by the lusty sea air?), we noticed a growing flock of weird little trailers congregating at the campground in the morning. We finally approached one of the owners who introduced us to the Teardrop Trailer – essentially a little tent on wheels! Inside this little pod fits a quee-nsized bed with some storage over the feet and the back opens up to reveal a kitchen area. Really low maintenance way to travel! We want one and apparently Beth has Kurt working on one back at home – right Kurt?
Get crackin', Kurt!
We continued up the coast (still beautiful, of course), stopping for a snack at a little general store and organic café where we met a nice man and his daughter, who was visiting from Alaska and savoring a mighty fine looking grilled cheese and hot chocolate with whipped cream. Which apparently inspired this man to tell some odd stories about his bear encounters, including a recent event in which a bear approached him but was acting strange. After the man threw gravel in the bear’s face, thus shooing the bear off, he found a decimated Reddi-Whip can nearby and concluded that the bear was high on nitris. Bear Whippits. This was the first of many bear discussions to follow over the coming week.
Route 1 leaves the coast in Humboldt county, just at the beginning of the Lost Coast, where road builders decided to stop fighting the landscape and head inland. This area is now known for producing Humboldt County’s Finest Crop, although we were unable to find any patches to harvest for ourselves. The inland diversion is just as stunning, however, winding through the redwood forest mountains, ultimately leading to the Drive-Thru tree in Legget, CA.
Driven-Thru Tree!
After that, it was onward to the Avenue of the Giants in Redwood National Park. Again, nature overwhelms. This is lumberjack country, and frequently the surrounding hills would be a bit sparse from logging, but still the views over the Eel River were gorgeous.
Giant Redwoods
Ride along for yourself - less neck cramping this way.
We cruised through the quaint Victorian town of Ferndale in order to stop at a Soda Shoppe that Kelly recalled, but they had closed early (why would a store specializing in ice cream shut down at 6 pm in the summer?!), so we headed up the road a bit to Eureka, a totally cool little liberal town on the water. Eureka is a main stop on the Kinetic Sculpture Race held each Memorial Day – a wicked cool local event where fantastical sculptures engage in a 3-day, 42-mile race over sand, sea, and land – it’s a real trip. If you ever find yourself in the Northwest near Memorial Day, check it out! Eureka itself is a worthy town, and we walked in on a traditional Celtic music seisun at a local coffee house, browsed some nice shops, and had yummy ice cream. As darkness fell, we headed about 20 miles north of town to camp for the night.
14 July 2006 Extreme Northern California
Not much to say for the day… we rose, and ate at a great little local café called the Palm. Beth was tempted to buy Betsy and Quinn their first anniversary gift – a painting of a cozy little cottage by a local artist clearly inspired by the work of Thomas Kinkade. More beautiful driving through the woods and along the sea, we set ourselves the goal of reaching Meg’s place in Eugene, OR by dinner time. Because we really wanted to see Meg, of course – the fact that she was going to be cooking us a fantastic salmon dinner was just a side bonus ☺
Beth's Happy Place
Even comes with a bird!
We crossed into Oregon and then wound our way through Grant’s Pass and cruised into Eugene just in time for dinner. Meg kept the competition for Best Home-cooked Meal (and, by this we mean “Best meal” full stop) intense with the pinkest salmon we’d ever seen, cooked to perfection with a lovely dill sauce, as well as fresh local corn on the cob and salad. Beth and Kelly brought a berry pie that they had bought fresh at the campground that morning. Our salivary glands runneth over. We worked off the meal with a brief hike with the sprightly dog Layna at a nearby open space overlooking Eugene and then hung out back at Meg’s always cozy abode.
So long, California!
Hello, Oregon!
Good bye, Chicken - Hello Salmon! Meg brings game in home cookin'
