Twine! Cheese! And the journey winds down...

Friday July 21
Twine Ball

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.

Except not so much.

Hey Boo-boo! Jellystone Park...

Wednesday July 19

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…

Whew! That was a lotta potatoes!

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.