The Open Road: 2011

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Life In The Plains Of Montana

Apparently when you drive through Montana, there are stretches of road hundreds of miles long where you don’t pass any truck stops, rest stops, walmarts, or even any real towns. This can pose a problem if you are towing your home and are looking for a place to park it for the night. Our solution? Eventually we got so tired that we found a dirt side road, pulled over, and crashed for the night. Bright and early the next morning we were awoken to the sound of frantic “moooooo’s”. Apparently we had parked in a pasture. When I looked out the window I found a mama cow staring at the shiny silver object in her yard trying to figure out what it could possibly be. She wouldn’t pass it. Instead she just stood there, belting out at us and doing her best to keep her calf behind her. In fact it turned out we were surrounded on all sides, each by a cow more confused and louder than the next. Needless to say we were awake, and it was one of the most humorous starts to a day on the trip.

The Trek Back West

No road trip across America is complete without a stop in… Fargo? Ok I will be honest, I kind of thought our stop in Fargo was going to be one of my least memorable because, come on, its Fargo! Well I was wrong.

Our main purpose for stopping in Fargo was to see one of Celsey’s best friends in the world, Joy, and her husband Nathaniel. But I also learned two interesting facts about Fargo while we where there. 1) Fargonians drink more alcohol per capita that ANY other city in the U.S. (I was told that’s because there is nothing else to do there in the winter!) And 2) They have quite possibly the grouchiest library staff anywhere!

Most of our time was spent just sitting around a table and catching up on one another lives and telling stories as we hadn’t seen each other since Cels and I got married. It was a long overdue reunion and my wife just glowed as she soaked up every precious minute we all had together.

Since both Joy and Nathaniel have jobs, Cels and I decided we would fill our day with a trip to the library to get caught up on all sorts of boring stuff like bills, blogs, our plans for the next few weeks ect. A very important part of all of that is access to the internet, and therefore a computer. Luckily (or so we thought) Fargo just built a huge new library. It was in fantastic shape but best of all there were two rooms of computers, totaling somewhere around sixty computers. Unfortunately, since we weren’t Fargonians, they restricted our use to 30 minutes each. Now the 30 minute restriction is nothing new to public libraries, most places use it as a way to make sure 1 person doesn’t hog a computer all day, while someone else was waiting. So when my thirty minutes were up I walked back to the librarian to inquire about re-upping my minutes, on account that there were a grand total of 9 people in the whole library at 1pm on a Thursday. I was denied. Seriously. There were easily fifty open computers to be used and no one would grant me access to use them! I couldn’t believe it.

Our second night in town we decided to take a trip “downtown” to walk the streets and try and catch some live music. We stumbled upon one of our greatest lucky finds of the trip: a vintage car rally. I don’t want to exaggerate but I would guess there were somewhere in the neighborhood of 250 gorgeous classic cars. It was like Tim the tool man Taylor’s heaven. Everywhere you looked there was another pristine hotrod or old truck. I am not even that big of a car fan and I was like a kid in a candy store.

All in all it was a great visit. Great friends. Great cars. Great time. Maybe every trip across America should have a stop in Fargo!

Good Times In Canoes

I am not sure where I first learned about the boundary waters, but as soon as I did I knew it was a part of the world God designed especially for me. It is a simple, primitive area over flowing with countless lakes begging to be canoed, and all teaming with fish. A place so remote that neither of my world traveler parents had even visited. And so they decided it was the perfect place to meet up with us on our trek. Without them it probably would have been a top five stop, with them it was probably my favorite so far.

We went in totally blind. Since no one had ever been there we really didn’t know what to expect. The books had told us to expect two things: rain and bugs. Talking to the locals in “town” (a three hour drive mind you) they prepared us with multiple bottles of bug spray and apologized that they had sold out of bug nets for your face. Needless to say we headed out and my moms biggest expectation was that we would sit inside, watch the rain, and play board games.

As it turned out we timed it just right. An unusually long winter had pushed back the arrival of the bugs, and we only saw rain over a few short spurts.

One day we set out to do a small hike. The host at our campground told us she didn’t recommend it, but she was a 60 year old smoker. The guidebooks said it would take 7 hours, but that was for fat Americans. My mom was confident we could do this 7 hour hike in “no more that two and a half hours.” To top it off we had planned to do another hike at sunset. Nearly six hours later we limped back to the car, exhausted, dehydrated, unable to walk any further and just straight pooped. We barely made it through the door, so tired that we didn’t even bother to do the dinner dishes. By that point the idea of another hike was humorous.

There has been one lesson I have learned over my life that really shouldn’t be challenged: my mom doesn’t make bets she isn’t sure she will win. So why I decided to wager a swim in the lake based on mindless fact is beyond me. On an impulse while grocery shopping I bet my mom on the number of pork tenderloins in a packet (I thought 1, she thought 2). It was excruciating torture wondering and as the days passed I went from cocky and confident to more and more skeptical of my decision to wager. To put it in perspective the owners of our cabin told us that the ice on the lake had only melted away about 2 weeks before we arrived. That makes for very cold water. Then I was reminded that my mom had opened in the neighborhood of a thousand pork tenderloins in her life. Me? Maybe ten?

Over the days everyone took turns examining the packet, trying to find evidence one way or the other. It became a quite frequent topic of conversation. On our second to last day I woke and found the meat in the sink defrosting. Today would be the day we would find out, but we had to wait until it thawed. They say a watched pot never boils, try watching meat defrost.

Hours later it was finally time. Everyone watched intensely as my mom sliced open the package. The meat slid out and came to rest on the platter. My moms face went blank: there was only one. I couldn’t believe it!! I whooped and hollered!!

Aside from that we spent the rest of our time in canoes, on hiking trails, reading books in the sun, laughing, relaxing, and of course fishing. While I never caught an elusive pike, my dad and I each caught our fair share of trout. One day in particular we fished for about two and a half hours caught in the neighborhood of 25-30 fish. Maybe the best day of fishing in my whole life.

Oh Canada!

Imagine driving a few hours out of your way to see one of the worlds most recognizable and beautiful natural sites. The excitement builds as you get closer and closer and you begin to anticipate the view, the pictures, everything. You have seen pictures but everyone says the same thing; “Its just so powerful when you can see it in person, its 10 times better.” You arrive, go through the hassle of parking your trailer, and quickly bike to the viewing platform.

Then, out of nowhere, clouds. Thick dense clouds. So thick that you cant see even see 75 yards, or the giant buildings around you, much less the gorgeous spectacle you wouldn’t even believe existed if it weren’t for all the signs, other tourists, and the fact that you can hear it!

This was our experience at Niagra Falls. I really remember thinking at one time that it was possible that we could leave that day having never seen the falls. Luckily the clouds broke enough for us to see the falls and shoot a couple of pictures. We even have some with blue sky background!

I have always thought of Canada somewhat like America - North Campus. So much so that I really didn’t even think twice about crossing the border to view Niagra Falls from the Canadian side. Oops. Big mistake.

First they searched our trailer. Not to bad. Then we remembered (after racking up $20 in fees in the first 3 minutes) that our cell phone plans were probably quite different in Canada and had to turn off our phones. So now we were in a foreign country with no way to call anyone and no maps. Did I remember to get gas in America, where it is over a dollar cheaper a gallon? No. Did I have enough gas to get back to America? No. Did I realize this until I was far away from the border, and with it all of the money exchange places? No. Did I even have a reasonable amount of cash to exchange if the opportunity produced itself? No.

Needless to say what was supposed to be a shortcut through Canada ended up being quite a funny adventure. Thanks to some family coming through in the crunch (shout out to my dad and Bret) we survived. More importantly, we learned! So next time we cross the border we will be much better prepared. Oh Canada!

Would You Eat A Garbage Plate?

Cels and I left wine country with 4 days and over a thousand miles ahead of us before greeting my parents at the Duluth airport. Our only planned stop on the way was to visit some old friends outside of Rochester (only about an hours drive). As we rolled into Pittsford I looked over and saw Cels gawking at the town. She said “I never pictured anything like this in New York.” Its like Medford, or Mayberry. I half expected sheriff Andy to walk out of one of the American flag laden houses to wave at me.

We didn’t plan on much time but we ended up spending two full days in and around Rochester. We went to an amateur soccer game, caught up with old friends, and tasted some of the local fare at the Lilac Festival. Now I know what you are thinking, we didn’t know Rochester really had any “local fare” either. But strolling through the festival we noticed a line of at least 50 people at one stand. We inquired a few line patrons what the fuss was all about and all we really learned was that the only thing served at the front of the lines were called “garbage plates.” Seriously. Someone had the terrible job of marketing a food called a garbage plate! But we were in. And 30 minutes later we had our very own garbage plate. Picture if you can a twelve inch plate divided in thirds between baked beans, macaroni salad, and those cubed French fries. Then on top of that was placed your choice of meats (we chose 2 cheeseburger patties, a crowd favorite). Next came a “special sauce” that was half meat sauce half bbq sauce, and then finally smothered in buffalo sauce. HOLY CRAP! I am sure for some it was heart burn on a plate but it was FANTASTIC! I am salivating right now recalling my garbage plate.

I am sure Mrs. Beth would be disappointed if I didn’t recall for all of you the Glee marathon I labored through. But I am happy to report that even in the face of such adversity, I survived.

Wine!!!

Seriously, did you know New York had a wine country? Even better did you know that May is Riesling month which means you can buy a $15 passport to over 25 wineries good for all you can sample?!?!? I do now!

Nestled in the Finger Lakes region of New York we finally found sun, and with it came some of our most spectacular hikes yet up Watkins Glen or to see Taughannock Falls, and wine. It was a perfect way to spend our remaining ‘Speculator’ days. We would wake up and go for a morning hike, then hit the wine trial until about five, and close the day with another climb to hike off the wine buzz. I learned about wine and the differences between all sorts of grapes. But even more I learned what a diamond in the rough the Finger Lake region is. Absolutely gorgeous. Geologically it is situated on a giant shale uplift that had been carved by glaciers. This left spectacular stair stepping river beds with water frequently cascading down. Simply stunning.

For that whole week we truly lived in the moment. We did what we wanted as it came to us, and it worked like a charm. We followed our noses.

Following Our Noses

The plans for our trip called for us to leave Maine and head straight west to a small town called Speculator in the middle of the Adirondacks to spend our next 7 or so days. However as it were, that’s not at all how our trip transpired. It began with a conversation with a waiter who, upon finding out we were about to drive west with the eventual destination of Rochester, told us we must at least drive through White Mountains on our way. His description and enthusiasm left Cels and I knowing it was a place we couldn’t miss.

So we headed off in search of the towering and majestic view of the White Mountains. However instead of being greeted with crisp blue skies and white-capped peaks, low cloud cover, flood warnings and rain welcomed us. As you can imagine that initially bummed us out, until we started hiking. We couldn’t miss. Every hike we took lead us to bigger, taller and louder water falls. Soon our quick drive through had turned into a two-day waterfall extravaganza.

We got back on the road and again set our sites on Speculator. However, in the Vermont welcome center we realized something: we were only about an hour detour from Ben and Jerry’s. We couldn’t miss an ice cream tour could we? Little did we know the commitment to tours we had made when we decided to head out of our way to get ice cream. Suddenly signs popped up everywhere for different tours. We took a tour of a maple sugar farm and for about 20 minutes pondered the possibility of becoming sugar farmers (well at least I did!). We toured an apple cider farm, a cheese factory, a chocolate annex, and finally Ben and Jerry’s. Before it was done our hour detour for ice cream had turned into a daylong festival of samples.

By now we had used 3 of our 7 days for Speculator and we hadn’t even made it yet, but we didn’t care because our dreams were full of waterfalls and maple sugar. When we finally arrived in Speculator we pulled into town and went straight for the visitor center. As a side note it’s worth mentioning that I chose Speculator without having ever been or knowing someone who had been because it claimed to be year round outdoor adventure. Instead we arrived to find everything closed. No campsites were open. Even the visitor center told us that things really don’t open up around there for another couple of weeks. We were welcome to hike but with the amount of rain they had most of the trails were impassably wet (a fact we then verified on a pair of hikes).

At the time it felt like a giant disappointment. But looking back now, we never would have made our next discovery without it, and our next discovery may well end up being our best discovery of the trip.

Friday, June 3, 2011

Off Maine Street

Acadia National Park and its surrounding areas was one of my most anticipated stops of our journey thus far for a couple of reasons. First, it was a much needed break of visiting cities and allowed us to get out into nature for a good while again. Second, within the park is the point in the continental US that receives the first rays of sunlight everyday. And finally, as chance would have it, we would get to run into some great friends. We met up with Doug and Lindsay in her hometown just outside of Bangor, and the next day proceeded to the park. Now for some reason, when Doug and I get together, we always push the limits of sanity once or twice. In fact when we go to do something together, Cels usually reminds Doug that she is putting my safety in his hands, and if I die, she may kill him. Now remember, its early May in Maine. The water in the Bay of Maine is hovering at a brisk 45 degrees. I think if you looked hard enough you may have been able to see an iceberg floating way out in the distance. We pulled up to the coastline, and it was at that point that my brain shut off so what was the first thing I did when I saw the water? “Hey Doug! Lets go swim!!” Doug immediately flashed his eyes to Lindsay looking for a way out, but she provided none. He quickly tried “But I don’t have a swimsuit”, sadly an argument that weak didn’t hold up for long as I had a home on wheels with ample shorts available for borrowing. So there we went. Running Baywatch style out into the waves, ready to take on the sea. I fear it would be an understatement to say that the cold shocked us. I remember running back out of the water and noticing the tips of my toes were already starting to go numb. Now an intelligent person would not have gotten into the water once. And even a stupid person would wouldn’t subject themselves to that sort of torture again. So I guess that makes Doug and I special, because we decided it was worth another go. The ranger Celsey and I met later in the week told us that Doug and I may be the only two people (idiots) that get into the water all year. It was sweet.

Before the sun rose to begin the next day, Cels and I were up, dressed, had eaten breakfast and were furiously hiking Cadillac Mountain with our headlamps. Some people far smarter than I have figured out that as the sun rises to begin a new day, the first place the rays hit in the entire continental is the top of Cadillac Mountain. We made the summit before the sunrise so as it stands Celsey and I were the first two people in ALL OF AMERICA to see the sun on May 13 th ,2011.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.8

An addition to the vagabond family!

We have some exciting news! Now now. Don’t get too excited. Our addition is not a baby, or even a puppy. We did however pick up an old grey hitchhiker for our last day in Boston and our journey north. I was on a mountain bike ride near our campsite one morning and shot David (Celsey's dad) a text saying he needed to hop on a plane come meet us and do the ride with me. By 11pm that night we were driving to the airport to pick up our first addition “The Moment” crew. It would seem logical that having to add another person to the mix may cramp our style, but Davids visit proved just the opposite! He was with us for 1 morning in Boston and then through the first half of our exploration of Maine. In true moment form we did our best to eat our weight in lobster while David was there. In fact at one point in the trip I had eaten lobster four times in three days! Our first day in Booth Bay we meandered through town and ended up stumbling on the dock where the lobsters are first brought ashore. Talk about fresh. And cheap. Lobster for $5?? Yes please! We decided to have a big lobster boil over the fire at our campsite. 8 lobsters, 3 people, grilled sweet potato fries, corn on the cob, and Coors. Now that is living in The Moment!!

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.8

Random Acts of Kindness

It's one thing to go out of your way for friends and relatives. It’s a completely different beast to go out of your way for total strangers. Enter Doug Leu. We met Doug on the American Flyer lift at Copper Mountain a few months back. For those of you that don’t know, Flyer is somewhere around a ten minute lift ride. We burned the first 4 or so minutes talking about conditions, skis, you know, stupid ski bum stuff. Then when the conversation slowed I threw out my usual “So where are you from?” When I learned he was from Boston I told them that I would be visiting there soon and inquired about what was a must see/do. That opened the door and soon I was learning all about Boston. Then Doug enquired about the nature of my trip at which time I gave a brief explanation of our trip, grad school, ect. As you can imagine that ate up our remaining 6 minutes in a flash. But when we put up the foot rest to unload he said “I will give you my card when we get off, give me a call when you get to Boston and I will see if I can get you tickets to the top floor observatory in my building. So as you all can imagine, I tucked the card safely away and as we rolled into Boston I shot him an email, figuring there was nothing to lose. In less than an hour I received a lengthy email with information on his access to tickets, his favorite parts of the city to visit, links to websites and an offer to take Cels and I to dinner! I was blown away. Before it was all said and done he had given us tickets to the aquarium, Imax, and the top floor of the Prudential building, given us directions to all sorts of fun things, and more than anything made us feel so welcome in a foreign city. Perhaps the craziest of all is that we were never even able to meet up while we were there. So while it was great to see the history in what come consider the birth place of America, the most memorable thing about Boston to me will always be an incredible random act of kindness. As a quick side note, I also left my phone on a subway train one day in Boston, and the man that found it came all the way back to the station where we got off (like 20 mins one way) because he knew the train system better so it would be easier for him to come to me than for me to try and find him! Needless to say we ran into a wonderful sampling of Bostonians. I almost forgot to tell you! The one thing I knew I wanted to do in Boston was go to a Sox game. As we arrived at Fenway it was again time for me to test my hand at scalping. This time… Success!!! I haggled, declined, walked away, and then came back with cash in hand (Morgans steps to scalping success!). We spent the afternoon basking in the sun over Fenway and watching the Sox get drilled! Sipping on a cold drink in the outfield bleachers, I cant think of to many better ways to spend a Thursday.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.8

Concrete Jungle Part 2

By our third full day in the city our feet were spent. In a mere 72 hours we had seen it all. Cels browsed the shops on Fifth Avenue and dreamed as we perused through the likes of Tiffany’s, Sax, and quote “the worlds greatest Anthropology”. We had walked from Times Square to ground zero, across the Brooklyn bridge back to the Empire State building, Rockafeller Center, to the Apple store and Trump Tower. We had waited in line for New Yorks best pizza and eaten lamb over rice from street venders. I ogled the buildings and the pace of the financial district as we walked down Wall Street. So the prospect of walking the city for a fourth straight day was a tough pill to swallow. Enter biking on the streets of NYC, A completely unique biking experience full of danger adrenaline and exercise. It was a lot like playing frogger, but with our own lifes as we dodged in and out of cabs and pedestrians! Now I have to take a moment here to gloat about my wife. When we got married she didn’t even own a bike. Fast forward 2 years and she is nearly a bonafide expert. I was so proud as we biked all the way from lower Manhattan, through SoHo, Little Italy, China Town, through Greenwhich Village and finally all through the park. She really grew in her confidence, at one point she even kicked a cab on the hood as it tried to run her down!!! It was a super proud moment. On a whim and a prayer (while I was bored walking through one of a thousand shops) I entered online for Letterman tickets. The next day I got a call saying I had been chosen, answered a trivia question right, and we were on the fast track to seeing Dave LIVE! It was a trip! We filmed that nights show from 4:30-5:30, which meant we had to be in line for check-in at 2:30. It was a once in a lifetime experience, legitimately live TV. We closed out our time in NYC with Celseys first ever live Broadway. It was an extravagant show about some drag queens and we laughed until we couldn’t breathe. The city was a fun experiment, but a short lived one for us. It left us with the feeling that we aren’t quite programmed for city life. To visit is an experience that words cant describe, and hopefully we will be back again, but always as visitors, never as dwellers.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.8

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Osama Bin What!?!?

Before we fell asleep the first night we became aware of the news that public enemy # 1 had been killed. We got texts and calls from family making sure we were in the know about one of the decades biggest headlines. The next morning we woke early and headed off to ground zero. As we arrived we joined a growing crowd of people coming to pay respects, remember, and celebrate on the now vast construction site for the World Trade Centers. News trucks lined the streets for as far as the eye could see. American flags from the giant to the hand held were being flown and waved in the streets and off of buildings. People placed flowers at the fence, and even more posted news papers and pictures. It was a historic day to be in lower Manhattan, and we even bought a paper with a front page caption of “Rot in Hell!” to solidify our memory. As a side note, I know I am not from New York, and I didn’t personally know anyone lost in the 9/11 attacks, but it still kind of disturbed me seeing people celebrate a persons death. Yes he was a creep who had declared war against us, and I am thankful to know he can no longer plot to kill innocent civilians, and yes I felt proud of our special forces, but I can't say I related to the elation of death showed by some.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.8

Concrete Jungle

Close your eyes. Well I guess that really doesn’t work for reading? Hmm. Ok picture New York. What do you see? Lady Liberty. Empire State Building. Wall Street. Weirdo. We hadn’t even crossed into the state of New York before we had seen 3 of the 4. In fact, before we had even checked into our RV site (at noon) we were ambushed by a very nice but obviously intoxicated lady (weirdo). She kept pestering me about getting her navigators license, to which I politely responded numerous times that I was the wrong person to ask. Eventually she hopped back in her car and swerved down the road in search of her license. But that got our NYC tour off with a bang! After we checked in, we set off on a trek to Yankee Stadium. It was the only day the Yanks would be in town and I wanted to continue my string of ballparks along the trail. Being silly and naïve, we walked to the light rail station with plans to hop on the train and be to the Bronx in a flash. Luckily we ran into numerous very nice people because in reality it took us 4 trains 3 separate fare cards and nearly an hour of underground maze travel before we emerged at Yankee Stadium. I tried my hand at scalping once again, and was offered two tickets (in the 6 th inning mind you), not next to each other for $65 a seat (one was a face value of $15). Lets just say I probably didn’t play my cards to well and walked away towards the box office empty handed. After being informed that the cheapest remaining seat at the box office was a cool $100, I started to come to the realization that maybe I wouldn’t get to see inside. I pondered sneaking in (and once had an opportunity but wussed out and walked away) and was then resigned to the fact that pictures of the outside would have to suffice. Then I met the worlds nicest cop. We chatted about our tour and when he learned our story he informed us about one remaining option. The cops had a special side entrance he could sneak us through. He pulled out his phone and made some calls –was this really happening? Was a cop going to help us break the law? Just as I was getting excited and he was starting to inform his buddy about our arrival, the Chief walked in unannounced. Needless to say that put a pretty big wrench in our plans but it was part of an unbelievable show of kindness shown to us by the “cold” New Yorkers.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.8

Cheesesteak!

Philadelphia wasn’t an official stop on our trip, but how can you drive past the city of brotherly love and not stop for a cheesesteak --even if you just happen to pass through at 10am? So, we did! Thanks to a little luck (and of course google) we pulled up to a steak shack for an early lunch/second breakfast. It was tough to stomach the thought of eating a giant sandwich that early, but the moment called for an early morning gut bomb. And oh my was it worth it. At the recommendation of a local (yes there were other people there that early… I couldn’t believe it) we ordered up a classic and pounded it. Then it was time to hit the road again and continue our journey to NYC!!

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.8

Simple Joys

It goes without saying that some of the simplest pleasures in life are unexpected. After an hour long drive to reach Annapolis, we pulled into a parking garage and without any plans set out to follow our noses. It didn’t take long for our noses to strike gold! Apparently, once a year in the spring, St. Mary’s college and the Naval Academy engage in a heated and very fierce croquette match! Seriously. An officially sanctioned croquette match. Complete with score keepers, boundaries, and even strategy. But even more memorable than watching people who had actually practiced croquette, was watching the crowd. People were dressed out to the nines in old time Gatsby clothes: hats, vests, pockets watches, and monocle’s!! They had arrived hours before the match started to stake out their property claim and get sufficiently buzzed. But don’t picture your average college booze fest. At least half of the crowd were alums (the Navy class of 1961 were having their 50 th reunion). The low end was white wine and worked up to mimosas in crystal. Cels and I went and bought a bottle of champagne just to fit in! In the end we both loved Annapolis, and who wouldn’t? Funny looking people. Check. Sunshine. Check. Croquette. Check. Champagne. Check!

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.8

Crab cakes and football, that’s what Maryland does!!

I have always felt a special connection with Baltimore. Although I have never lived there, I spent plenty of time on the outskirts of town, weeding the garden at the house where my mother grew up. But its been about 10 years since my grandmother moved and I had yet to return. So I was anxious to revisit the area, and as I am sure you can guess, most of the memorable things about Baltimore involve food. Even though we got our wires a little crossed (they thought we were going to arrive sometime in June/July, we pulled into the driveway in April) the Bears were possibly more prepared for us than anyone. We were welcomed like kings! They had everything planned from food to activities and didn’t miss a detail, even putting chocolates on our pillows. We ate ALL KINDS of local delicacies. First and most importantly we had steamed crabs (which deserve a paragraph all to their own, from crab 101 to Celseys face as she first tried mustard), and Berger cookies, and UTZ, and stuffed rockfish, and Rhebs. We biked along the Gunpowder, we fished for minnows in the creek with my cousin, and laughed until we cried playing board games. When we weren’t eating we took some day trips, one to Baltimore and another to Annapolis. In Baltimore we set out on a journey to find all of my mothers favorite things. We browsed through Lexington Market and checked out the days fresh catch, got a napoleon at Vaccaro’s in Little Italy, and just browsed through the inner harbor. I had my first scalping experience out in front of Camden Yards and after some trial and error managed to snag a pair of tickets. My error came in trying to haggle with a guy who was actively smoking pot on a sidewalk not 100 yards from some cops. I felt rather lucky to walk away without any bullet holes in my chest. But it was totally worth it as the day slipped away over the horizon and we watched the O’s battle under the lights, and summer felt like it had arrived.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.8

Honor

I have decided that D.C. is one of my favorite towns. But more than that I think it’s a place every American should have to go to every few years. As you walk among the monuments you really get a sense of history, sacrifice, courage, and greatness. It essentially makes me a well of emotions just to stroll past the names on the Vietnam memorial, or read the walls of the Lincoln memorial. This time I was even worse.

On the steps of the Lincoln memorial I noticed a number of older gentlemen all wearing the same shirts and hats. While this is not the least bit out of the norm in D.C., it struck me that many of them in wheel chairs were being pushed around by men in active duty uniforms. It quickly became apparent that the older men were WWII vets. As we hung around and I overheard bits and pieces of conversations, I learned that they were all there for the same reason. The WWII memorial is new in terms of D.C., completed 7 years ago in 2004. Some bright individual realized that heros of that war are ageing and passing before they have had the chance to see the memorial erected in their honor, and so they decided to fix the problem. Honor flight is a non profit organization that funds a visit to D.C. for WWII vets so they can see the memorial that pays homage to their sacrifice and the sacrifice of their friends.

We had just come from the WWII memorial and had seen the display of 4009 stars, each star representing 1000 individuals that died in the war. It’s easy to walk away from something like that and dismiss the magnitude of numbers that large because they are impossible to comprehend. Then as we sat on the steps overlooking the mall, I overheard an active duty soldier who was pushing one of the wheelchairs say “You see those two big flags at the end of the reflecting pool? Those are flags for your memorial.” At which time the vet sat up straighter, clenched the arms of his chair, and his chest rose. To see first hand the emotion on that mans face as he undoubtedly remembered and honored his buddies, just a fraction of one of those stars, is an image I will never forget.

If you can visit D.C. and not feel patriotic, then you either have no heart, or are one of the million foreign tourists pouring out of busses, fanny packs loaded and camera dangling loosely around your neck. We of course did the typical touristy things. Visited memorials, the Bureau of Engraving and Printing, Smithsonian’s, tidal pool, cherry trees, ect. But we also got the tour of a lifetime. The friends we stayed with, Aaron and Danielle, just so happened to have some inside connections. Danielle works for the house representative for South Dakota. So we started our day off with a quick tour of her office. Then that grew into an informal tour of the capital. Next thing I knew I was basically being strip searched by the capitol police, lying about a meeting I had with a Senator, and eventually being issued an I.D. Before it was all said and done I had to again lie about my plans (this time a different lie), and clear two more security searches where they took ANYTHING even REMOTLY electronic. Yes even my earphones and the remote for my truck. And then there I was, on the floor of the house. I stood where the President stands for the State of the Union. I sat in the front row and pretended to vote. I saw the chair where Biden falls asleep. It was monumental, and probably nothing I will ever experience again.

Jump Back

Take a Jump Back to Atlanta for a minute while I (celsey) throw in my blog post....

Some of the best parts about this road trip have been seeing friends and family that are not usually in our neck of the woods. This was made true with seeing Calla and Kaelin. Calla and I met while working at a YL camp in Oregon, summer of 2005. Since then we have only seen each other a handful of times (two of those being each others weddings). I love friendships like these! The ones where you just hit it off, and distance doesn’t do much to separate it.

While in Atlanta we had amazing food (yes, this does tend to be a theme of this road trip). Calla is and always has been an amazing Cook. She loves to be in the kitchen and make dishes that come alive! We were lucky enough to have spent our Easter in Atlanta with Todd, Calla and Kaelin. Calla treated us to a delectable lamb shank dinner. What a blessing to be surrounded by friends and family on such a special holiday.

Ooh one last thing I loved about Atlanta. There is a farmers market (not the kind you typically think of when you hear this phrase). It is open 7 days a week and is inside. It had absolutely everything you could possibly imagine and it was all fresh. This place was larger than a Costco, and stocked to the hilt. The meat was all local, natural, grass fed, etc. The fish were all caught that day and you had selections from a whole fish to filets of every species imaginable. The apples section was bigger than that of a normal produce section of a grocery store. Fresh homemade breads, cheeses cheeses and more cheeses, nuts, dried fruit, teas, honey, I could go on and on but I think you get the idea. I loved it!!!

Monday, May 16, 2011

The quest for cleanliness.

As full blown gypsies we have begun to realize that some things we took for granted as domesticated humans are actually luxuries on the road. Exhibit A. Showers. Our route north gave us the opportunity to meander through Shenandoah National Park (shout out to Cori and Ben!!). Just outside of the park is one of the schools I applied to, University of Virginia. As it stands we are still waiting to hear from UVa so I decided a little visit was in order, you know, to suck up and stuff! But we hadn’t showered since Atlanta a few days prior and I wouldn’t exactly whoo anyone if they could smell me walk in the door. So the hunt for a shower began.

What would you do to try and find a shower?

Strolling around the campus we came up with a GOLDEN idea. Two places on a university campus have lots of showers. Dorms and gyms. Both require some sort of issued ID or pass card to access, neither of which we had. Were we desperate enough to sneak into a gym to shower? Yup.

We pretended to be interested parties inquiring about the facilities. The plan would have worked flawlessly if we hadn’t poorly chosen the smallest of the gyms on campus. I am sure they saw through my request to see the locker rooms. Who chooses a school based on the gym locker rooms? “Yeah the academics are incredible but the gym bathrooms sucked!” But we really had no choice. I was in and out in a flash, and I took the walk of shame with wet hair and squeaky shoes past the front desk and thanked them for my tour.

Our first run in with the LAW

In true vagabond style, we left the comforts of the Brewster’s home, and all of the delicious meals that came with it, without having a destination in mind. The sun began to set as we meandered through the hills of northern Georgia, and we started looking for a temporary home for the night. We pulled over on the side of the road to examine a map and look for a road “off the beaten path” where we thought we could get away with squatting for a short time. We hadn’t been stopped for 3 minutes before red and blue flashing lights pulled into my rear view mirror. I was sure I had been caught before I had ever even broken the law, just my luck. Instead we met a real live Gomer Pyle. With an accent so thick I only really understood half of what he said, he gave us directions to a quaint little spot beside a creek that he said would be ok for an overnight stay. Unfortunately, as he sent us off into the dark, neither Cels nor I could remember anything past the first turn. His instructions literally told us to go to the top of a hill and turn past the closed food bank. Bare in mind we were in Georgia HILL COUNTRY so this meant we had to distinguish between all of the tattered shacks on the road that without an exaggeration undulated like a sin chart. (nerdy math reference?? Perhaps!)

After about 10 hill tops and countless buildings we were both about ready to give up. And then out of nowhere, Gomer himself appeared, and proceeded to lead us, our own police escort, to a secluded creek side abode. And perhaps best of all was the appearance of a break in the trees big enough to turn “The Moment” around, meaning I didn’t have to back out the 4-5 miles of narrow winding cliff hugging forest service road. Sigh.

Welts.

Ok, I am embarrassed… turns out its way harder to find a computer to blog on while on the road than I had ever imagined. But no time for any long winded complaints, we barely have enough time to catch up on the last 3000 miles of our lives!!

As we drove east to see my grandmother (referred to as Mom-Mom for the remainder) we had no idea the sort of pure gluttony that was about to occur. There was a beach, and waves, the excitement of crabbing and the pain of weeding in the heat, but the truly memorable part of Fernandina beach will forever remain: Food. Before we had even finished our hello hugs my nose caught a whiff of something only people who have experienced as well can relate to: Mom-Mom’s fried chicken. Which is by the way the worlds best fried chicken. And so it began. Before it was all said and done (all in a matter of less than a week mind you) we had eaten crab cakes, brats, a batch of chocolate chip cookies, an apple pie, a pan of brownies, shrimp salad – twice, fried chicken – twice, pancakes, eggs, bacon, HEAVEN!!!! Needless to say the appropriate thing for us to have done would be fasten some sort of harness system and walk The Moment to wherever were headed next. Instead we chose to drive to the beach and sit in chairs to pass the time between feedings.

**As I just read back looks like you already knew most of that... guess thats what I get for not having the internet when I write... but rest assured the following is ALL NEW!!

By the time we had reached Amelia Island to see Mom-Mom, we must have been asked 20 times if we were going to see Savannah. We even had friends honeymoon in Savannah, so without a schedule we decided to see what the fuss was all about. Turns out most of the fuss for us (well Cels) was all about trees; rows and rows of giant trees that lined the squares for which Savannah is so famous. My favorite part of Savannah (in true foodie fashion) was the hour or so we spent in a candy store watching, and sampling, the creations from taffies to pralines.

From Savannah we headed to Atlanta. Not so much for the touristy sightseeing things, but rather to see old friends and family. One of Celseys best friends she met while working at Young Life camp (Calla), and my cousin.

I have a few very repetitious memories from my life, one of which involves a cousin, some bruises, and usually a scolding. I cant really explain it. Todd was always like the brother I never had. The only problem is brothers have tons of time to create mischief so they can evenly spread it out. But in our case we were usually pressed from time, so we had to fit a lifetime worth of brotherly stupidity into periodic meetings lasting only days at a time. However I am starting to find is that as we grow, so to do our adventures. And this time was no different.

As is always the case we sort of stumble upon brilliance. This time we were hanging out in Callas backyard on a Saturday afternoon. We saw the neighbor kid playing with a paintball gun and lets just say one thing led to another. Before we knew it we had invented a game the military would be proud of. One of us had to try and navigate an obstacle course of plywood, trees, and wheel barrels we had erected in the backyard while the other got to have a free for all with a semi-automatic paintball gun. It was a painful game to say the least, testing our bravery (stupidity maybe) and agility, but could easily go down as the best game I have ever been a part of: Welts.