The Smoky Mountains National Park is the most visited national park in America, for reasons that I cannot fathom. There's no entrance fee -- maybe that explains it. But more visitors than Yellowstone, or the Grand Canyon, or Yosemite? That's just crazy.
From afar, the mountains are sultry and mysterious. And don't get me wrong, they're pretty up close too. They're just not spectacular. Maybe I'm just sour since we missed the chance to see yet another bear due to a bunch of inconsiderate drivers stopping smack dab in the middle of the road, leaving us stuck uphill inside a forested patch of land where there were no bears to be seen.
But before Jun and I reached the mountains, we scooted up the west side of Georgia and into Tennessee territory. It was getting dark, so we found a state park and set up our tent for the last time. We cooked up a feast on the hot coals, cracked open a couple of beers and then crawled into our sweltering tent. It was so hot I could barely breath, and the crazy thunderstorm that rolled in for the entire night cooled off the outside air but didn't make the slightest bit of difference inside the tent.
Perky the next day we were not, and the world's worst cup of gas station coffee didn't help matters. But then, after our ho-hum lap through the Smokies, we stopped at a river rafting spot, ordered up two tubes and headed to the water. We floated a mile downstream, sometimes leisurely moving along in a light current, and at other times being tossed through quick-moving rapids.
We made it back to the base in one piece and scarfed down a barbecued pork sandwich and a big ol' mason jar of southern tea.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Day 49
What can I say? The temptation proved to be too strong at the Indiana State Fair, and we made like the oversized Hoosiers (I was born in Indiana, so I guess I am a local too) and ordered up a deep-fried Snickers bar. A chubby girl beside me in the waiting vat was finishing a big cup of ice cream before getting her hands on her deep-fried butter. The verdict: ew. Too sweet, too squishy. Give me a regular Snickers any day, or a fried cheese...mmm.
We also learned that the Tilt-a-Whirl can make you queasy as an adult, the spinny rides are horrifying, the haunted house is the lamest thing in the world unless you're 3 and you can't take a shortcut through the monster truck pit when the show is going on.
After our fair-going experience, we watched the sun sink under the lavender sky and drove through the cornfields toward home, a sad and exciting final destination.
TRIP ROUNDUP
States visited: 27
Miles logged: 10,000+
Weeks on the road: 7
Flat tires: 0
This journey has been the time of my life, full of stimulating scenery, fascinating people, delectable food, freedom and pure, simple love. There's no one in the world I would have rather sat beside in the car for hours on end, camped in the rain with and watched magical sunsets and the occasional sunrise together.
I love you, Jun-bug. It's good to be home.
We also learned that the Tilt-a-Whirl can make you queasy as an adult, the spinny rides are horrifying, the haunted house is the lamest thing in the world unless you're 3 and you can't take a shortcut through the monster truck pit when the show is going on.
After our fair-going experience, we watched the sun sink under the lavender sky and drove through the cornfields toward home, a sad and exciting final destination.
TRIP ROUNDUP
States visited: 27
Miles logged: 10,000+
Weeks on the road: 7
Flat tires: 0
This journey has been the time of my life, full of stimulating scenery, fascinating people, delectable food, freedom and pure, simple love. There's no one in the world I would have rather sat beside in the car for hours on end, camped in the rain with and watched magical sunsets and the occasional sunrise together.
I love you, Jun-bug. It's good to be home.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Day 47
I'm going to be honest. My favorite part of Tennessee was the food. In particular, the spicy chicken we ordered up from Pepperfire. It was the most deliciously painful eating experience in recent memory. Fiery hot chicken, icy beer and tons of napkins.
The only problem with embarking on this enormous road trip and not being in our early 20s anymore is that oftentimes our days were so packed with travel and sightseeing that by the time we checked into a motel and took a shower, we were too exhausted to explore the nightlife in any proper form. So, no, we didn't see live music in Nashville. I was up in the air about hitting one of the local tourist traps anyway.
Storms rolled in the next morning as we drove toward the neon-laced stretch of downtown. We jumped out of the car once or twice, then headed to the outskirts of town for lunch at Loveless Cafe. Afterward, we pointed our ailing Pontiac toward the bluehills of Kentucky and one state closer to home.
The only problem with embarking on this enormous road trip and not being in our early 20s anymore is that oftentimes our days were so packed with travel and sightseeing that by the time we checked into a motel and took a shower, we were too exhausted to explore the nightlife in any proper form. So, no, we didn't see live music in Nashville. I was up in the air about hitting one of the local tourist traps anyway.
Storms rolled in the next morning as we drove toward the neon-laced stretch of downtown. We jumped out of the car once or twice, then headed to the outskirts of town for lunch at Loveless Cafe. Afterward, we pointed our ailing Pontiac toward the bluehills of Kentucky and one state closer to home.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Day 44
The Deep South is a strange, sultry part of America and a world apart from the Midwest, although it's only separated by a couple skinny states. My first sighting of the confederate flag made my stomach turn, as did every other time it was displayed with sickly pride.
Jun and I cruised through the bottom lips of Mississippi and Alabama, peering at the sandy beaches on the Gulf as Biloxi and Mobile rolled past. We stopped only in search of touristy magnets, which we started collecting early in our trip and now we have a big, colorful bag full of them.
The mission: get to Florida as fast as possible and snag a spot on a sunny beach in Pensacola. Sounds easy, right? The water was so close, but the stretches of sand eluded us as we hunted for a swimming area. We crossed a long bridge and then zoomed right by the toll bridge for Pensacola Beach, which is supposed to be beautiful, in search of a smaller, free area. Instead of a lovely, wet afternoon, we ended up fighting about the whole thing and then giving up and heading north. I was bummed, but we had also been watching Shark Week on cable here and there and my urge to set foot in the open water was notably diminished. I'd settle for a fresh-water swimming pool.
That night, we checked into a Ramada in Montgomery, Ala., only to find that the pool was closed indefinitely and a giant cockroach was waiting for a kiss goodnight in our bathroom. Sigh. A room switch and bottle of wine got me through that one.
But on to the good stuff: the Rosa Parks Museum is incredible. The way the story is set up puts you as close to the historical action as you can possibly get. You can practically smell the exhaust from the bus. It still surprises me how recent those events that seem like millions of years ago really were, even in my father's lifetime. The battle for civil rights still blazes on, of course.
Jun and I cruised through the bottom lips of Mississippi and Alabama, peering at the sandy beaches on the Gulf as Biloxi and Mobile rolled past. We stopped only in search of touristy magnets, which we started collecting early in our trip and now we have a big, colorful bag full of them.
The mission: get to Florida as fast as possible and snag a spot on a sunny beach in Pensacola. Sounds easy, right? The water was so close, but the stretches of sand eluded us as we hunted for a swimming area. We crossed a long bridge and then zoomed right by the toll bridge for Pensacola Beach, which is supposed to be beautiful, in search of a smaller, free area. Instead of a lovely, wet afternoon, we ended up fighting about the whole thing and then giving up and heading north. I was bummed, but we had also been watching Shark Week on cable here and there and my urge to set foot in the open water was notably diminished. I'd settle for a fresh-water swimming pool.
That night, we checked into a Ramada in Montgomery, Ala., only to find that the pool was closed indefinitely and a giant cockroach was waiting for a kiss goodnight in our bathroom. Sigh. A room switch and bottle of wine got me through that one.
But on to the good stuff: the Rosa Parks Museum is incredible. The way the story is set up puts you as close to the historical action as you can possibly get. You can practically smell the exhaust from the bus. It still surprises me how recent those events that seem like millions of years ago really were, even in my father's lifetime. The battle for civil rights still blazes on, of course.
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| This museum was pretty neat too |
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Days 42 & 43
No time for Houston. Or rather, we chose New Orleans over Houston, making it merely a sleepy blip on our road map. That's an easy one, right? Our final stop in Texas was for a surprisingly tasty Thai lunch right on the border, then it was off through Baton Rouge and into the arms of the Crescent City.
To get there before dark, we took the interstate. It was still a slow, colorless journey, so when we arrived in New Orleans it was a like a Red Bull for my road-weary soul. Jun maneuvered the car through the narrow streets of the French Quarter in search of lodging, while I was reminded of a tipsy 22-year-old version of myself that had raised a ruckus on those same streets.
Oh, how things change. This time around, the sights and smells and sounds of Bourbon Street were downright repulsive. The hurricanes? Nothing to write home about. But the architecture was endlessly divine and the seafood...yum. We filled up on oysters at Acme Oyster House and Mother's, which were full of tourists but finger-lickin' good.
We walked around in the searing heat, stopping in art gallerys and souvenir shops and even a cathedral to soak up the AC in small bursts. My husband did not let me go on a swamp tour, alas, and within 24 hours our time in the Big Easy had come to a close.
To get there before dark, we took the interstate. It was still a slow, colorless journey, so when we arrived in New Orleans it was a like a Red Bull for my road-weary soul. Jun maneuvered the car through the narrow streets of the French Quarter in search of lodging, while I was reminded of a tipsy 22-year-old version of myself that had raised a ruckus on those same streets.
Oh, how things change. This time around, the sights and smells and sounds of Bourbon Street were downright repulsive. The hurricanes? Nothing to write home about. But the architecture was endlessly divine and the seafood...yum. We filled up on oysters at Acme Oyster House and Mother's, which were full of tourists but finger-lickin' good.
We walked around in the searing heat, stopping in art gallerys and souvenir shops and even a cathedral to soak up the AC in small bursts. My husband did not let me go on a swamp tour, alas, and within 24 hours our time in the Big Easy had come to a close.
Day 41
Arriving in Austin with the last of the daylight, Jun and I were at a loss over what to do. We weren't hungry. We didn't feel like shopping. The temperature was a sultry 100 degrees, so strolling through the park did not exactly appeal to our senses.
The air-conditioned car tour was short and sweet, weaving through one-way streets and passing a cluster of cute little bars, the state capitol and the famous Stubb's BBQ. Then it was time to head north for a little taste of Man vs. Food. The first stop was Roundrock Donuts, which has a drive-thru and makes mouthwateringly glazed sweets. We made the mistake of only ordering four -- two for dessert and two for breakfast.
The smell was intoxicating and soon our tummies started to rumble, so we drove 20 minutes to our dinner destination: Salt Lick Bar-B-Que. We shared a dinner plate, scarfing down the smoky meats and sides with a cold Lone Star beer until that happy, stuffed feeling took over.
So, in my mind, Austin will forever be equated not with live music, but with delicious food.
The air-conditioned car tour was short and sweet, weaving through one-way streets and passing a cluster of cute little bars, the state capitol and the famous Stubb's BBQ. Then it was time to head north for a little taste of Man vs. Food. The first stop was Roundrock Donuts, which has a drive-thru and makes mouthwateringly glazed sweets. We made the mistake of only ordering four -- two for dessert and two for breakfast.
The smell was intoxicating and soon our tummies started to rumble, so we drove 20 minutes to our dinner destination: Salt Lick Bar-B-Que. We shared a dinner plate, scarfing down the smoky meats and sides with a cold Lone Star beer until that happy, stuffed feeling took over.
So, in my mind, Austin will forever be equated not with live music, but with delicious food.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Day 40
With its little manmade river winding through downtown and providing much-needed shade from the sun, San Antonio is endearing and steeped in history. After meeting my super-fabulous friend David, whom I met so many wild years ago in Tokyo, he took us on a whimsical nighttime tour of his fair city that included a lesbian bar and the Alamo.
We threw back a couple cocktails and wandered through the dark heat in search of nothing particular. We peered into a Cowboys bus to see if we could spot any football players, who were practicing at the local stadium all week. We stopped in a fancy-schmancy hotel to soak up the AC, then walked through a lonely park while David told us about the time he and his friend were almost robbed. Funsies!
The next day we went back for another trek through downtown, eating tasty Tex-Mex at a riverside cafe and then heading back to the Alamo to look inside. It really is incredible. Most of my familiarity with the place comes from watching Pee-Wee's Big Adventure as a child, and even that's hazy now.
The searing heat eventually drove us, after listening to lazy music drift over the water at the River Center and watching droves of quinceañera sweethearts and brides (sometimes it was hard to tell the difference) parade by in poofy gowns, to the cool refuge of our car and we left San Antonio and dear David in the dust.
We threw back a couple cocktails and wandered through the dark heat in search of nothing particular. We peered into a Cowboys bus to see if we could spot any football players, who were practicing at the local stadium all week. We stopped in a fancy-schmancy hotel to soak up the AC, then walked through a lonely park while David told us about the time he and his friend were almost robbed. Funsies!
The next day we went back for another trek through downtown, eating tasty Tex-Mex at a riverside cafe and then heading back to the Alamo to look inside. It really is incredible. Most of my familiarity with the place comes from watching Pee-Wee's Big Adventure as a child, and even that's hazy now.
The searing heat eventually drove us, after listening to lazy music drift over the water at the River Center and watching droves of quinceañera sweethearts and brides (sometimes it was hard to tell the difference) parade by in poofy gowns, to the cool refuge of our car and we left San Antonio and dear David in the dust.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Days 38 & 39
The last place in the country I expected to find myself on this road trip was Roswell, New Mexico. Aliens? Not quite my bag, baby. But after dalliances in Gallup and Albuquerque, from Route 66 to Main Street, the quickest path to San Antonio and my awaiting friend was through the UFO craze capital.
Roswell turned out to be a kitschy blast from the past. The town even has alien streetlamps. After a muy delicioso, guacamole-packed Mexican lunch, Jun and I went to the UFO Museum and Research Center, which leaves visitors scratching their heads and pleading silently for the truth. I surely don't believe little green martians landed in the field that night, but I would love to know what did happen.
Roswell turned out to be a kitschy blast from the past. The town even has alien streetlamps. After a muy delicioso, guacamole-packed Mexican lunch, Jun and I went to the UFO Museum and Research Center, which leaves visitors scratching their heads and pleading silently for the truth. I surely don't believe little green martians landed in the field that night, but I would love to know what did happen.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Days 37 & 38
My whole life, I've seen pictures and films featuring the Grand Canyon. It would be breathtaking to see it in person, no doubt. But it was even more magnificent than I thought to sit near the edge of the south rim and watch the sun dip below the horizon, bathing the rocks in soft pink and lavender hues. It's the only time in my memory that a sunset has been deemed worthy of applause.
We tried to camp there, but the sites were full so we went back to Flagstaff and checked into a motel. The next day, we headed out to see the glorious Red Rocks of Sedona. It was love at first sight. Vibrant red and blue with tinges of green as far as the eye can see. It was also searingly hot, so we made our way to a little creek to cool off and eat lunch. The little cacti that lined the road were adorably prickly.
We tried to camp there, but the sites were full so we went back to Flagstaff and checked into a motel. The next day, we headed out to see the glorious Red Rocks of Sedona. It was love at first sight. Vibrant red and blue with tinges of green as far as the eye can see. It was also searingly hot, so we made our way to a little creek to cool off and eat lunch. The little cacti that lined the road were adorably prickly.
Days 35 & 36
I know you're never too old to have a titillating experience in Vegas, so if you skip dinner and fall asleep watching "Everyone Loves Raymond," does that just make you a loser?
Jun and I made amends by staying a second day so we could lounge by the pool, take a nap, work, ride a rollercoaster and then walk the length of the Strip before grabbing In-N-Out Burger and jumping in a cab back to the hotel (Circus Circus) to scarf it down with a bottle of cheap bubbly. Oh, and we gambled a grand total of $1.
Vegas is great, but maybe it's just not our city. I remember when my sisters and I would party all night and score free drinks and cut the lines at the hottest clubs and see Celine Dion for free (!) in Vegas. All I wanted to do this time around was win a million bucks without trying and take a nap in our comfy hotel room. And score free drinks.
No need for any secrets to stay in Vegas this time.
Jun and I made amends by staying a second day so we could lounge by the pool, take a nap, work, ride a rollercoaster and then walk the length of the Strip before grabbing In-N-Out Burger and jumping in a cab back to the hotel (Circus Circus) to scarf it down with a bottle of cheap bubbly. Oh, and we gambled a grand total of $1.
Vegas is great, but maybe it's just not our city. I remember when my sisters and I would party all night and score free drinks and cut the lines at the hottest clubs and see Celine Dion for free (!) in Vegas. All I wanted to do this time around was win a million bucks without trying and take a nap in our comfy hotel room. And score free drinks.
No need for any secrets to stay in Vegas this time.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Chewing the scenery
Living out of a small bag for five weeks has been easier than I thought it would be. Sleeping in a new town with a different pillow every night, either under the stars or inside a sometimes shady roadsde motel, is bound to make a person miss their own bed. At that point, though, I always remember that I don't have my own bed.
I love roasting s'mores and watching for a shooting star as much as I love sipping a microbrewed beer and watching the Food Network before bed. I'm tired of listening to teh sae songs in the car, whether it's on the radio or our iPods.
Somehow, my seven or eight changes of clothing haven't become annoying. Eating at local restaurants is always pleasurable -- we haven't had a bad meal yet -- but going to the supermarket and buying veggies and meat to grill, scouring the deli for fun foods and stopping at roadside stands for freshly picked fruit never gets old. And it's cheap, too!
Jun and I have learned a lot about each other on this trip, but we also are happy to ride along in silence for long stretches of time, lost in our thoughts or soaking up the passing scenery. We've fought and made up plenty of times, usually about trivial stuff like a missed turn or because I'm hungry and cranky. Or tired and cranky. Or PMS-y and cranky. Usually I'm a ray of sunshine, promise!
At 7,000 miles on the road this time around, our handsome hand-me-down car, Richard Burton, has had a couple snafus, but never anything that takes more than a couple hours to fix. Gas prices have been killer, but, hey, what can you do? We cut our expenses in other areas.
A few amazing people have also crossed our paths. There was an amiable old man running an antique shop in Montana who was prone to exclaiming "Holy macaroni!" and gave us a few items for our soon-to-be home that I adore. And an Army photojournalist camping in California who dispensed invaluable advice to Jun and told some incredible stories; I wish we had had the time to look at his photos. And the old Korean taxi driver in Vegas, who smiled the whole ride and chatted about diets and natural disasters with a really great perspective on both.
I wish I could collect all my thoughts here, but my mind is whirring from all the sights, sounds, smells and tastes. One of these days, maybe.
I love roasting s'mores and watching for a shooting star as much as I love sipping a microbrewed beer and watching the Food Network before bed. I'm tired of listening to teh sae songs in the car, whether it's on the radio or our iPods.
Somehow, my seven or eight changes of clothing haven't become annoying. Eating at local restaurants is always pleasurable -- we haven't had a bad meal yet -- but going to the supermarket and buying veggies and meat to grill, scouring the deli for fun foods and stopping at roadside stands for freshly picked fruit never gets old. And it's cheap, too!
Jun and I have learned a lot about each other on this trip, but we also are happy to ride along in silence for long stretches of time, lost in our thoughts or soaking up the passing scenery. We've fought and made up plenty of times, usually about trivial stuff like a missed turn or because I'm hungry and cranky. Or tired and cranky. Or PMS-y and cranky. Usually I'm a ray of sunshine, promise!
At 7,000 miles on the road this time around, our handsome hand-me-down car, Richard Burton, has had a couple snafus, but never anything that takes more than a couple hours to fix. Gas prices have been killer, but, hey, what can you do? We cut our expenses in other areas.
A few amazing people have also crossed our paths. There was an amiable old man running an antique shop in Montana who was prone to exclaiming "Holy macaroni!" and gave us a few items for our soon-to-be home that I adore. And an Army photojournalist camping in California who dispensed invaluable advice to Jun and told some incredible stories; I wish we had had the time to look at his photos. And the old Korean taxi driver in Vegas, who smiled the whole ride and chatted about diets and natural disasters with a really great perspective on both.
I wish I could collect all my thoughts here, but my mind is whirring from all the sights, sounds, smells and tastes. One of these days, maybe.
Reality check
This is a grim but essential wakeup call. I love looking for local watering holes to dip into on a scorching summer day, but am usually to scared to get in. When I was younger, I wouldn't have thought twice.
Now I don't feel bad about being cautious.
Yosemite Deaths A Reminder Of Rivers' Risks
Now I don't feel bad about being cautious.
Yosemite Deaths A Reminder Of Rivers' Risks
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Day 34
Death Valley was an eye opener. It's incredible how many living things can survive -- thrive, actually, in the oven-like temperatures and extremely arid climate. Such a beautiful harmony of nature.
The temperature rose to 107 degrees while we were there in the early morning hours on the heels of a spectacular sunrise, but the air conditioner didn't go on in the car a single time. Why pass through the earth in its rawest form in a sealed-off, manmade bubble?
I could look around and see nothing for miles except the rising hills and a little patch of pavement. We stopped once and climbed up to a sand hill that looked like it was straight out of the Sahara; I half expected camels to be walking around. On the sand were trails of tiny little paw prints and others that I thought belonged to a furry critter but turned out to be the track marks of a snake. Probably not so little, either.
We paused along the two-hour journey a couple more times for photo-ops and to trek up a hill to get unbelievable views of the valley and surrounding peaks. Needless to say, it was hot.
I read this NPR story two days after we passed through the valley:
The GPS: A Fatally Misleading Travel Companion
The temperature rose to 107 degrees while we were there in the early morning hours on the heels of a spectacular sunrise, but the air conditioner didn't go on in the car a single time. Why pass through the earth in its rawest form in a sealed-off, manmade bubble?
I could look around and see nothing for miles except the rising hills and a little patch of pavement. We stopped once and climbed up to a sand hill that looked like it was straight out of the Sahara; I half expected camels to be walking around. On the sand were trails of tiny little paw prints and others that I thought belonged to a furry critter but turned out to be the track marks of a snake. Probably not so little, either.
We paused along the two-hour journey a couple more times for photo-ops and to trek up a hill to get unbelievable views of the valley and surrounding peaks. Needless to say, it was hot.
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| Lonely road |
I read this NPR story two days after we passed through the valley:
The GPS: A Fatally Misleading Travel Companion
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Days 32 & 33
The spectacular ocean views never get tiresome. We took the long, winding Pacific Coast Highway south as long as we could, catching odd glimpses of sea lions and otters along the way. We passed through Monterey and Carmel, the latter of which was pretty but much too fancy for my tastes.
Eventually we had to leave the ocean and cut east toward the scorching desert, although there were lots of wineries to keep our eyes distracted and a midstate fair in Paso Robles that I longed to go to; Jun did not.
Instead of making it through the Sequoia National Forest and on to Death Valley for sunset the following day as we had planned, we spent several hours in Midas getting our brakes fixed. The miles of windy, seaside roads and mountain paths that we had gone through surely were to blame.
To fight the heat, we found a little watering hole near the forest and joined the locals for a quick swim, then headed toward the sacred sequoia. Honestly, they looked just like the redwoods we had encountered earlier in the trip, although the bark patterns were kind of fascinating.
As we turned through the mountain roads, we saw smoke, then smelt it, then bizarrely gaught a glimpse of flames flickering in the forest. It was a small but scary forest fire near the Trail of a Hundred Giants, and as we drove right past it I felt the heat on my face and saw the firefighters working to contain it.
The rising temps were good practice for Death Valley, which awaited us in the morning.
Eventually we had to leave the ocean and cut east toward the scorching desert, although there were lots of wineries to keep our eyes distracted and a midstate fair in Paso Robles that I longed to go to; Jun did not.
Instead of making it through the Sequoia National Forest and on to Death Valley for sunset the following day as we had planned, we spent several hours in Midas getting our brakes fixed. The miles of windy, seaside roads and mountain paths that we had gone through surely were to blame.
To fight the heat, we found a little watering hole near the forest and joined the locals for a quick swim, then headed toward the sacred sequoia. Honestly, they looked just like the redwoods we had encountered earlier in the trip, although the bark patterns were kind of fascinating.
As we turned through the mountain roads, we saw smoke, then smelt it, then bizarrely gaught a glimpse of flames flickering in the forest. It was a small but scary forest fire near the Trail of a Hundred Giants, and as we drove right past it I felt the heat on my face and saw the firefighters working to contain it.
The rising temps were good practice for Death Valley, which awaited us in the morning.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Day 31
San Francisco is colorful and fun and hilly, which everyone knows from watching the movies. (Nine Months and The Rock spring to mind first, but those are both terrible films and embarassing to admit that I watched. Multiple times.)
I adore the city for its multicultural vibe, old Victorian homes and proximity to the sea. Jun found it too tightly packed together and a little bit suffocating. But we agreed that the endless views of the Golden Gate Bridge are tops. We strolled around all afternoon, going up to Russian Hill and down to Fisherman's Wharf, then over to the Painted Ladies and the bridge. And a thriftstore.
We left San Francisco as quickly as we arrived, heading up to beautiful Santa Cruz for dinner and a good sleep. It seems like if we aren't in Tokyo, we don't have much desire to be in a big, bustling city these days.
I adore the city for its multicultural vibe, old Victorian homes and proximity to the sea. Jun found it too tightly packed together and a little bit suffocating. But we agreed that the endless views of the Golden Gate Bridge are tops. We strolled around all afternoon, going up to Russian Hill and down to Fisherman's Wharf, then over to the Painted Ladies and the bridge. And a thriftstore.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Days 28, 29 & 30
After four weeks, my hubby and I made it to California and carved our way down the coastline, stopping now and then to feel the salty sea breeze on our faces and once to giggle over a few sea lions basking on the rocks below.
We stopped overnight at a little seaside hotel, then wandered through the giant redwoods in pursuit of Napa. Somewhere along the way, the golden sun began to shine and the temperature warmed. This was the California of dreams.
For two nights we camped beside two different lakes, gasping over the stars and making s'mores. We drove around mountain curves and cliffs until I felt queasy, and passed grapevine after grapevine until I felt thirsty. Joseph Phelps was our one and only winetasting, though. The heat and sun combined with wine dazzled us into a stupor, and that was enough for us.
We paid a visit to Cakebread Cellars at 9 a.m. so I could interview the winemaker for an article and Jun could take some photos. He gave us the grand tour, and my favorite part by far was the bottling assembly line, straight out of Laverne & Shirley.
Napa Valley was left in the rearview mirror in favor of the ocean and in particular Stinson Beach, which can only be reached by curving your way carefully around some of the scariest cliff-hanging roads in the world. If you make it to your destination, the reward is a gorgeous stretch of sand and big, icy waves. Talk about heaven on a hot July day.
After a quick dip, we skipped staying in San Francisco and ventured on a whim to Half Moon Bay. I liked the sound of it. It did not disappoint. Every storefront was quaint and charming, and we stayed at this sweet little hotel above a bar. It was like living for 12 hours inside an episode of "Cheers." We found it hard to leave.
We stopped overnight at a little seaside hotel, then wandered through the giant redwoods in pursuit of Napa. Somewhere along the way, the golden sun began to shine and the temperature warmed. This was the California of dreams.
For two nights we camped beside two different lakes, gasping over the stars and making s'mores. We drove around mountain curves and cliffs until I felt queasy, and passed grapevine after grapevine until I felt thirsty. Joseph Phelps was our one and only winetasting, though. The heat and sun combined with wine dazzled us into a stupor, and that was enough for us.
We paid a visit to Cakebread Cellars at 9 a.m. so I could interview the winemaker for an article and Jun could take some photos. He gave us the grand tour, and my favorite part by far was the bottling assembly line, straight out of Laverne & Shirley.
Napa Valley was left in the rearview mirror in favor of the ocean and in particular Stinson Beach, which can only be reached by curving your way carefully around some of the scariest cliff-hanging roads in the world. If you make it to your destination, the reward is a gorgeous stretch of sand and big, icy waves. Talk about heaven on a hot July day.
After a quick dip, we skipped staying in San Francisco and ventured on a whim to Half Moon Bay. I liked the sound of it. It did not disappoint. Every storefront was quaint and charming, and we stayed at this sweet little hotel above a bar. It was like living for 12 hours inside an episode of "Cheers." We found it hard to leave.
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| Ooh la la |
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Days 26 & 27
Nearly 6,000 miles of mountains rising gloriously out of the ground, rivers and glistening lakes and stretches of Mother Nature at her very finest have slipped by. I gaze out the windows for hours and take in every detail that my eyes and nose and ears can snatch up before it all floats away.
I love a big city as much as the next girl, but it is the wild landscapes that appeal the most to me at this moment. A metropolis is almost like an assault on the senses.
Portland is a small city on a river, with lots of shops and parks and fun things to do. I felt like a kid in a candy shop when I stepped foot inside Powell's, the world's largest independent book store. Words as far as the eye can see. I picked up a collection of short stories by Doris Lessing, whom I've never read before, and it was as exciting as buying a brand-new Michael Kors dress.
And did I mention that Portland is home to two of my favorite people from Tokyo: Katherine and Niles? They were certainly a sight for sore eyes, and they showed us an excellent time. We ate, drank and played board games. Jun and I explored Portland's famed food carts, and then went to check out a series of waterfalls just out of town.
The city, we both agreed, lacked the something that would keep us there for longer, though. Color? Wonder? Family? It was like seeing the whole city in sepia tones. I don't know, but we said farewell with easy hearts and turned our sights on California.
I love a big city as much as the next girl, but it is the wild landscapes that appeal the most to me at this moment. A metropolis is almost like an assault on the senses.
Portland is a small city on a river, with lots of shops and parks and fun things to do. I felt like a kid in a candy shop when I stepped foot inside Powell's, the world's largest independent book store. Words as far as the eye can see. I picked up a collection of short stories by Doris Lessing, whom I've never read before, and it was as exciting as buying a brand-new Michael Kors dress.
And did I mention that Portland is home to two of my favorite people from Tokyo: Katherine and Niles? They were certainly a sight for sore eyes, and they showed us an excellent time. We ate, drank and played board games. Jun and I explored Portland's famed food carts, and then went to check out a series of waterfalls just out of town.
The city, we both agreed, lacked the something that would keep us there for longer, though. Color? Wonder? Family? It was like seeing the whole city in sepia tones. I don't know, but we said farewell with easy hearts and turned our sights on California.
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Day 25
Seattle greeted us with sunshine and open arms. We found ourselves jetting out from downtown to one of the nearby neighborhoods to catch a movie in the park, which just so happened to be Wizard of Oz. How can you go wrong with that, a couple warm sleeping bags and a bag of kettle corn?
The next morning, with the expected rain drizzling down on our heads, we went to Pike Place Market to meet an old Tokyo acquaintance of mine. She showed us around a bit and the two of us enjoyed mile-a-minute gossip while Jun tried to keep up with what we were saying.
Seattle was nice. Capitol Hill had all sorts of fun shops. But it didn't send us over the moon, and there were too many tourists around to unwind, so we scouted out Gum Wall, threw a piece of Rock Star chewing gum up there for good measure, and headed out of the city earlier than planned.
Maybe it was the idea that my lovely Katherine was waiting for us in Portland with open arms.
The next morning, with the expected rain drizzling down on our heads, we went to Pike Place Market to meet an old Tokyo acquaintance of mine. She showed us around a bit and the two of us enjoyed mile-a-minute gossip while Jun tried to keep up with what we were saying.
Seattle was nice. Capitol Hill had all sorts of fun shops. But it didn't send us over the moon, and there were too many tourists around to unwind, so we scouted out Gum Wall, threw a piece of Rock Star chewing gum up there for good measure, and headed out of the city earlier than planned.
Maybe it was the idea that my lovely Katherine was waiting for us in Portland with open arms.
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| Verdict = Eeeeeewwwww. |
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Day 24
Idaho's license plates say it all: "Famous Potatoes." The state also has a northern city set on the lake that's called Coeur d'Alene. Like nearly everywhere we've been so far, it sparkled and called to us to pull over and stay a while, so we drove up and down a steep, scary mountain road with no guardrails and pulled into a campsite for the night.
We ate a steak dinner cooked over hot coals, gulped down a PBR, soaked in the hot tub and crawled into our tiny tent to brave the stormy hours outside. I managed to stay dry, but Jun's longer than me and he was fairly soaked through. Poor guy.
We're definitely getting used to roughing it though. I don't blink twice when it comes to brushing my teeth outdoors, and I don't know the last time I washed my hair. On second though, give me a warm shower and a clean, dry bed tonight and I will be grateful forever.
We ate a steak dinner cooked over hot coals, gulped down a PBR, soaked in the hot tub and crawled into our tiny tent to brave the stormy hours outside. I managed to stay dry, but Jun's longer than me and he was fairly soaked through. Poor guy.
We're definitely getting used to roughing it though. I don't blink twice when it comes to brushing my teeth outdoors, and I don't know the last time I washed my hair. On second though, give me a warm shower and a clean, dry bed tonight and I will be grateful forever.
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| So where are these famed spuds? |
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Days 22 & 23
You know how everyone seems to have some sort of animal that they long to see before they die? Mine used to be a sea turtle, which I did glimpse in Australia. My sister's is a moose. As we started to get close to Yellowstone, I began itching to see a bear (from a nice, safe distance), which we did. And then my luck doubled in Glacier National Park, when we were taking the Going-to-the-Sun Road just before dusk as far as the snow drifts would allow us.
A little black bear was strolling alongside the road among the trees. My heart skipped a bit. I looked around for the mama before leaning over Jun and out the window to snap a billion photos, although in my glee I knocked the camera onto the wrong setting and the photos are light and blurry. Ah well. The memories will last a lifetime.
The park was gorgeous and serene. I hoped for a glimpse of the Northern Lights, but we slept in a little motel tucked into the forest and there were none to be seen. The day before, we stopped in Helena, Mont., which turned out to be a sweet little town with the best coffee shops and antique stores on a strip of pavement called Last Chance Gulch. Too bad everything was closed on Sunday night. Jun and I had to settle for our first chain-restaurant meal of the trip: a big, gooey Domino's pizza.
A little black bear was strolling alongside the road among the trees. My heart skipped a bit. I looked around for the mama before leaning over Jun and out the window to snap a billion photos, although in my glee I knocked the camera onto the wrong setting and the photos are light and blurry. Ah well. The memories will last a lifetime.
The park was gorgeous and serene. I hoped for a glimpse of the Northern Lights, but we slept in a little motel tucked into the forest and there were none to be seen. The day before, we stopped in Helena, Mont., which turned out to be a sweet little town with the best coffee shops and antique stores on a strip of pavement called Last Chance Gulch. Too bad everything was closed on Sunday night. Jun and I had to settle for our first chain-restaurant meal of the trip: a big, gooey Domino's pizza.
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| No sun for you! |
Monday, July 11, 2011
And...
The only drawback about Yellowstone (minus the killer Grizzlies) is once you are ready to leave, it feels like it has swallowed you up and you can't get out.
Days 19, 20 & 21
Bison, bighorn sheep and black bears, oh my! Yellowstone was wild and crazy indeed. Wildlife is lurking around every corner, and my senses were overstimulated with the sights and sounds and smells. We spied the above animals (the bear was my favorite!), as well as moose (meese?), elk, antelope and a golden eagle, and paid tribute to Old Faithful, which was a little bit tardy but we'll let it slide this time. The steamy show was worth the wait.
After reading about a grizzly bear attack on one of the trails, we chose to camp along a lake at Buffalo Bill State Park, about a 45-minute drive from Yellowstone. We made s'mores and drank wine and roasted gourmet sausages for dinner before crawling into our tiny tent and tried to sleep (a newly bought air mattress on the second night definitely helped). I kept hearing noises and going to the bathroom in the middle of the night is never a treat, but camping is fun. Honest!
Nearby tourist trap Cody hosts rodeos every night, so Jun and I headed to one on a whim. I've never seen so many cowboy hats and chaps in my life. The horses were manhandling the cowboys left and right, bucking them off within a second or two most of the time. I had to advert my eyes during the calf tying event, but the part where about 70 little kids chase three calves around the arena to get the ribbons off their tails for prizes was hilarious. Rodeo = check.
Now we venture to Glacier National Park for a glimpse of the Northern Lights.
After reading about a grizzly bear attack on one of the trails, we chose to camp along a lake at Buffalo Bill State Park, about a 45-minute drive from Yellowstone. We made s'mores and drank wine and roasted gourmet sausages for dinner before crawling into our tiny tent and tried to sleep (a newly bought air mattress on the second night definitely helped). I kept hearing noises and going to the bathroom in the middle of the night is never a treat, but camping is fun. Honest!
Nearby tourist trap Cody hosts rodeos every night, so Jun and I headed to one on a whim. I've never seen so many cowboy hats and chaps in my life. The horses were manhandling the cowboys left and right, bucking them off within a second or two most of the time. I had to advert my eyes during the calf tying event, but the part where about 70 little kids chase three calves around the arena to get the ribbons off their tails for prizes was hilarious. Rodeo = check.
Now we venture to Glacier National Park for a glimpse of the Northern Lights.
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| Thar she blows! |
Friday, July 8, 2011
Days 17 & 18
So, everyone tells you that stepping into the Badlands is like entering another country. That's because it's really the only way to describe it. The stark, rocky formations are out of this world, eery and beautiful at the same time. I could have cruised through them all afternoon, but Jun and I got caught in a little storm and the gravel roads were slippery and bumpy and my darling husband was ready to pull the plug early instead of taking the scenic loop around.
Right as we were getting out of the car to take a few pictures, a coyote crossed our path and dozens of prarie dogs popped up through their holes to stare at us. I've had a soft spot for these critters since we studied them in school in third grade.
After the Badlands, we cruised past the infamous Wall Drug without giving in to its beckoning billboards, cut through Rapid City and soon found ourselves winding through the mountains in sight of Mount Rushmore. We took the trail that leads you closer and closer to the monument, and each time I saw it I was in awe at the detail and scale. Giant presidential faces! In the mountainside! How crazy is that?
We went next to the Crazy Horse Memorial, which my friend Marisa found more dazzling than Rushmore, and I'm inclined to agree. It's not even close to finished since the original sculpture died, but it's massive and incredibly moving. Honestly, we are on a fairly tight budget and didn't pay the $20 to enter the area, but seeing it from the road was more than enough.
Lodging that night took place in the form of a covered wagon straight out of Little House on the Prairie. Cozy and sparse, and when I woke up Jun in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, the stars were so brilliant I nearly tripped and fell.
The next morning, we drove through the winding mountain roads of Custer State Park and soaked up the incredible vistas for hours. Down in the grasslands, a herd of donkeys was blocking the road, moseying up to cars in search of a snack. Then a little bit further, buffalo were wandering across the pavement and causing a ruckus. I had been waiting to see one in the wild all week. So worth it. Although, I did feel bad about having a bag of bison jerky in the car. And I had eaten buffalo ravioli for dinner the night before, but they didn't need to know about that.
Right as we were getting out of the car to take a few pictures, a coyote crossed our path and dozens of prarie dogs popped up through their holes to stare at us. I've had a soft spot for these critters since we studied them in school in third grade.
After the Badlands, we cruised past the infamous Wall Drug without giving in to its beckoning billboards, cut through Rapid City and soon found ourselves winding through the mountains in sight of Mount Rushmore. We took the trail that leads you closer and closer to the monument, and each time I saw it I was in awe at the detail and scale. Giant presidential faces! In the mountainside! How crazy is that?
We went next to the Crazy Horse Memorial, which my friend Marisa found more dazzling than Rushmore, and I'm inclined to agree. It's not even close to finished since the original sculpture died, but it's massive and incredibly moving. Honestly, we are on a fairly tight budget and didn't pay the $20 to enter the area, but seeing it from the road was more than enough.
Lodging that night took place in the form of a covered wagon straight out of Little House on the Prairie. Cozy and sparse, and when I woke up Jun in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, the stars were so brilliant I nearly tripped and fell.
The next morning, we drove through the winding mountain roads of Custer State Park and soaked up the incredible vistas for hours. Down in the grasslands, a herd of donkeys was blocking the road, moseying up to cars in search of a snack. Then a little bit further, buffalo were wandering across the pavement and causing a ruckus. I had been waiting to see one in the wild all week. So worth it. Although, I did feel bad about having a bag of bison jerky in the car. And I had eaten buffalo ravioli for dinner the night before, but they didn't need to know about that.
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| You can see straight up their noses from here. |
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Day 16
Let's make a long short, because I'm giddy to get to the Badlands and Mount Rushmore: We spent the whole day driving across the Sandhills of Nebraska, which were a million times more stunning than I was prepared for. The rolling hills that stretched for miles and miles were downright captivating. After sharing a bison burger for lunch, we arrived at our first destination just in time for a spectacular sunset: Carhenge. Junk collides with art for a pretty cool result.
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| White trash, and proud of it. |
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Days 13, 14 & 15
Lincoln, Nebraska, was all about family fun. It was the long Fourth of July holiday, which I hadn't celebrated properly in years. I forgot how much I enjoy fireworks until I saw them exploding across the horizon at night with a cool breeze running along my back.
In Japan, fireworks are a major summertime event, but that means thousands of people crammed into a tiny park with dirty restrooms and a domineering humidity. Fun! I did love dressing up in yukata, the hot-weather cousin of the kimono, and wearing wooden slippers to go see them, but we spent more time finding a good spot than enjoying the fireworks, and it would take hours to get on the train or walk back home after. Last year, Jun and I found ourselves somehow at a rooftop party with perfect views of the Sumida River pyrotechnic show, but it's never the same as in the big ol' U.S. of A.
Lincoln is a cute college town with a lot of gems to explore. Andrea and Jared showed us to a selection of local watering holes after the Saturday night fireworks. We played pool and were enjoying a nice buzz until Jun got rejected from the next spot for his international ID, which didn't fly with the bouncer, so we went and picked up Mexican food, pigged on on the basement floor of Jared's parents' home and fell asleep to True Grit.
My mom and 5-year-old niece were along for the weekend festivities, so the next day we had a big breakfast at a big lodge and enjoyed some girl time (shopping) while the boys cruised around town in a sports car, and then we met up and went to the children's museum. I was enraptured with as many games and trinkets as my niece. We all were.
The rest of the weekend followed similar themes: eating, playing, watching fireworks. The in-laws hosted a huge party on July 4, and we partook in games aplenty. Andrea and I whipped up batches of delicious mojitos, and I may have eaten an entire platter of chocolate peanut butter bars. Jared put on a dazzling firework show for us, and then we wondered over the constellations in the sky. I saw three shooting stars, and made the same wish every time.
In Japan, fireworks are a major summertime event, but that means thousands of people crammed into a tiny park with dirty restrooms and a domineering humidity. Fun! I did love dressing up in yukata, the hot-weather cousin of the kimono, and wearing wooden slippers to go see them, but we spent more time finding a good spot than enjoying the fireworks, and it would take hours to get on the train or walk back home after. Last year, Jun and I found ourselves somehow at a rooftop party with perfect views of the Sumida River pyrotechnic show, but it's never the same as in the big ol' U.S. of A.
Lincoln is a cute college town with a lot of gems to explore. Andrea and Jared showed us to a selection of local watering holes after the Saturday night fireworks. We played pool and were enjoying a nice buzz until Jun got rejected from the next spot for his international ID, which didn't fly with the bouncer, so we went and picked up Mexican food, pigged on on the basement floor of Jared's parents' home and fell asleep to True Grit.
My mom and 5-year-old niece were along for the weekend festivities, so the next day we had a big breakfast at a big lodge and enjoyed some girl time (shopping) while the boys cruised around town in a sports car, and then we met up and went to the children's museum. I was enraptured with as many games and trinkets as my niece. We all were.
The rest of the weekend followed similar themes: eating, playing, watching fireworks. The in-laws hosted a huge party on July 4, and we partook in games aplenty. Andrea and I whipped up batches of delicious mojitos, and I may have eaten an entire platter of chocolate peanut butter bars. Jared put on a dazzling firework show for us, and then we wondered over the constellations in the sky. I saw three shooting stars, and made the same wish every time.
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| Fat elk in a tiny pond. |
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Day 12
Small towns in the Midwest have a comfortingly similar feel. Brick storefronts, quaint parks, a single dash of the golden arches. The big cities, however, do not fit into the same mold. Each shines ( and in some aspects falls short) in its own way. They all possess an industrial, gritty but also partially refined quality, but a huge, distinctive personality awaits visitors to Chicago, Grand Rapids, Minneapolis and Kansas City.
Kansas City is a bite-sized metropolis with a big heart. Jun and I sliced across Main Street and accidentally found ourselves eating lunch at the mall, but even that was filled with natural light and surrounded by grass and fountains. The mercury had struck 100, so we skipped the outdoor activities in favor of a sampling of the icy goods at Boulevard Brewert. Reservations are required for a tour, but a brewer named Sterling was kind enough to offer endless tastes of the taps.
We had good intentions of joining the First Friday art gallery crawl, but instead checked into the allegedly haunted Hotel Savoy, built in the 19th century, and took a nap that turned into a lazy night of pretzels for dinner and The Client for entertainment. In other words: perfection.
There were no paranormal sightings, alas, but the interiors of the hotel were stunning. Old, creaky and ornate. Our bathtub had claw feet and some of the original furniture U.S. presidents have patronized the guestrooms and restaurant, and Harry Houdini was locked in a phonebooth in the lobby by a brazen traveling salesman. He was pissed. I don't blame him.
Kansas City is a bite-sized metropolis with a big heart. Jun and I sliced across Main Street and accidentally found ourselves eating lunch at the mall, but even that was filled with natural light and surrounded by grass and fountains. The mercury had struck 100, so we skipped the outdoor activities in favor of a sampling of the icy goods at Boulevard Brewert. Reservations are required for a tour, but a brewer named Sterling was kind enough to offer endless tastes of the taps.
We had good intentions of joining the First Friday art gallery crawl, but instead checked into the allegedly haunted Hotel Savoy, built in the 19th century, and took a nap that turned into a lazy night of pretzels for dinner and The Client for entertainment. In other words: perfection.
There were no paranormal sightings, alas, but the interiors of the hotel were stunning. Old, creaky and ornate. Our bathtub had claw feet and some of the original furniture U.S. presidents have patronized the guestrooms and restaurant, and Harry Houdini was locked in a phonebooth in the lobby by a brazen traveling salesman. He was pissed. I don't blame him.
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| Haunted, stained glass. |
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Day 11
The Bridges of Madison County is cheesier than a bag of Doritos, sure, but I always was smitten with the luscious scenery. The covered brdges are straight out of another, simpler time and even the name of the town, Winterset, conveys an old-time feel. So after stuffing our bellies with barbecue and all the trimmings in Ames, Iowa, and cruising straight through Des Moines, I saw the bridged on the atlas and we made a beeline for the interstate exit.
The air was thick and hot and dusk had nearly arrived, the perfect weather for a walk back in time. One of the bridges fell victim to arson a few years ago and a replica has been rebuilt, but the authentic structures are where it's at. We passed through town, where live music was playing in the courthouse square and a renovated church serves as a bed and breakfast (sadly it was full when we asked), stopped at an old castle-like tower on the side of the road and drove past the most amazing 19th century cemetery and a tiny rodeo before taking in our second and final bridge. I could have curled up and slept inside it all night long.
Iowa is nowhere that I'd take up permanent residence, but it was soothing to my soul for a day.
The air was thick and hot and dusk had nearly arrived, the perfect weather for a walk back in time. One of the bridges fell victim to arson a few years ago and a replica has been rebuilt, but the authentic structures are where it's at. We passed through town, where live music was playing in the courthouse square and a renovated church serves as a bed and breakfast (sadly it was full when we asked), stopped at an old castle-like tower on the side of the road and drove past the most amazing 19th century cemetery and a tiny rodeo before taking in our second and final bridge. I could have curled up and slept inside it all night long.
Iowa is nowhere that I'd take up permanent residence, but it was soothing to my soul for a day.
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| Just add Meryl Streep with a funny accent. |
Days 9 & 10
Minneapolis put on quite the show for me and Jun, flaunting flawless weather and incredible cultural pursuits, architecture and food. It was also nice to lay our heads down in the same spot more than once. But above all, I enjoyed getting some face time with my girl, who was working up a storm and kicking all kinds of butt at it. I am so proud of her.
On Wednesday morning, Jun and I crept out of our deep sleep and went to the coffee shop for a jolt of warm energy, did much-needed laundry and went to the Walker Art Center to be wowed (and more often puzzled) by the exhibits and then the sculpture garden. Then we wandered downtown in search of lunch and people watching (my favorite thing was the "pub on wheels"), and later the bunch of us went to a Twins game at the brand-new stadium. I couldn't get into the game without the Cubbies involved, but we had a grand ol' time anyway and it was a gorgeous night for a ballgame.
The next day, we checked out the mill ruins near the river, which was the world's biggest flour mill in the late 1800s. Now it's a stunning structure in a resurrected area with a museum inside and a sleek concert hall next door. I couldn't help but picture an incredibly romantic wedding in the courtyard. We then traversed the Stone Arch Bridge on foot, which was opened in 1883 and shows off views of the dam and the river.
After all that walking (and then some), we headed south and rewarded ourselves with two Jucy Lucy's at Matt's Bar, which contends to be the original creator of the piping-hot, molten-cheese-stuffed burger. Every bite was divine and I was crestfallen when mine was gone. An hour's walk in the scorching sun later, we were back home and sucking down a 32 oz. Diet Coke like it was the only liquid left on earth. Maris and Seth took us to Psycho Suzi's Motor Lodge for dinner involving pizza and tiki drinks and then Nye's for a dose of old-world chintz. I ordered up a dirty martini and soaked in the place that was deemed the World's Best Bar by Esquire magazine. We snapped a couple old photo-booth strips and listened to live music (piano in the front, folk rock to the side) until the Sandman was calling.
Zzzzz...
On Wednesday morning, Jun and I crept out of our deep sleep and went to the coffee shop for a jolt of warm energy, did much-needed laundry and went to the Walker Art Center to be wowed (and more often puzzled) by the exhibits and then the sculpture garden. Then we wandered downtown in search of lunch and people watching (my favorite thing was the "pub on wheels"), and later the bunch of us went to a Twins game at the brand-new stadium. I couldn't get into the game without the Cubbies involved, but we had a grand ol' time anyway and it was a gorgeous night for a ballgame.
The next day, we checked out the mill ruins near the river, which was the world's biggest flour mill in the late 1800s. Now it's a stunning structure in a resurrected area with a museum inside and a sleek concert hall next door. I couldn't help but picture an incredibly romantic wedding in the courtyard. We then traversed the Stone Arch Bridge on foot, which was opened in 1883 and shows off views of the dam and the river.
After all that walking (and then some), we headed south and rewarded ourselves with two Jucy Lucy's at Matt's Bar, which contends to be the original creator of the piping-hot, molten-cheese-stuffed burger. Every bite was divine and I was crestfallen when mine was gone. An hour's walk in the scorching sun later, we were back home and sucking down a 32 oz. Diet Coke like it was the only liquid left on earth. Maris and Seth took us to Psycho Suzi's Motor Lodge for dinner involving pizza and tiki drinks and then Nye's for a dose of old-world chintz. I ordered up a dirty martini and soaked in the place that was deemed the World's Best Bar by Esquire magazine. We snapped a couple old photo-booth strips and listened to live music (piano in the front, folk rock to the side) until the Sandman was calling.
Zzzzz...
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| Wait, did it take it yet? |
Monday, June 27, 2011
Day 8
A big city and a familiar face! After wandering through the Paul Bunyan Logging Camp in Eau Claire and the Crystal Cave in Spring Valley (both were worth the time), we made a beeline for the border and a dinner date in Minneapolis with my beloved Tokyo friend, Marisa. After a rendezvous two years ago in Greece and Turkey and a winter playdate in Chicago a year and half ago, we finally met again this May for my wedding. (In fact, tomorrow is our one-month anniversary {Kisses, Jun-bug!}).
We sat down for minty cocktails and a meaty dinner with our men and caught up on all the news of the day and the month, which turned out to be a lot for having just spent a long weekend together. The conversation inevitably turned to politics and the environment, both sobering topics that could be turned over all night long.
Minneapolis is funky, vibrant and green, the perfect urban respite after a few of small towns.
We sat down for minty cocktails and a meaty dinner with our men and caught up on all the news of the day and the month, which turned out to be a lot for having just spent a long weekend together. The conversation inevitably turned to politics and the environment, both sobering topics that could be turned over all night long.
Minneapolis is funky, vibrant and green, the perfect urban respite after a few of small towns.
Days 6 & 7
These are the days of cheese. Wisconsin welcomed us with lush hills and sunshine. We floated through a national forest before reaching stretch upon stretch of picture-perfect prairie. And, oh, the sunshine has quenched my soul after so many soggy days in upper and lower Michigan.
Jun and I set our sights on Eau Claire after being unable to find an appealing campground. The downtown was bursting with culture, with theaters, artwork and books at your fingertips. Our concierge recommended a restaurant called Stella Blue, which enthralled my taste buds so thoroughly with fried pickles, beet salad and Cajun-spiced veggie pasta. The local beer was not bad, either. Eau Claire is home to Leinenkugels brewery, and even though my sister adores it, I do not, so we stuck with other fun labels like Spotted Cow.
Instead of heading to a dive bar I was eyeing earlier to celebrate Saturday night and our four-week anniversary, we tucked ourselves into bed before midnight and woke up early to start out for Mondovi, home of an amazing barn renovated into the Barn Again Lodge. We stayed in the Honeymoon Bungalow, a little red cabin. We wanted to stay forever. It had a little bed, couch, table, plus microwave popcorn and DVDs. The wraparound porch held a table and chairs and a gas grill. I was in love.
Then a glance at our atlas taught me that we were less than a half hour away from the birthplace of Laura Ingalls Wilder. I treasured her nooks as a child, reasons the adventures of Lsura and her family until they almost felt like my own. The TV series was nearly as enchanting. The museum resurrected in her honor was small and a little shabby, but there were a few interesting trinkets and I took home a biography of her captivating life.
And of course, we stopes for cheese curds to snack on. At summertime we utilized the grill and gave our wallets a break, stopping at the supermarket for two sirloin steaks, a red pepper, Vidalia onion and fresh blackberries and raspberries, all for $12. It was divine. If you haven't noticed, we adore food in a big, big way.
Jun and I set our sights on Eau Claire after being unable to find an appealing campground. The downtown was bursting with culture, with theaters, artwork and books at your fingertips. Our concierge recommended a restaurant called Stella Blue, which enthralled my taste buds so thoroughly with fried pickles, beet salad and Cajun-spiced veggie pasta. The local beer was not bad, either. Eau Claire is home to Leinenkugels brewery, and even though my sister adores it, I do not, so we stuck with other fun labels like Spotted Cow.
Instead of heading to a dive bar I was eyeing earlier to celebrate Saturday night and our four-week anniversary, we tucked ourselves into bed before midnight and woke up early to start out for Mondovi, home of an amazing barn renovated into the Barn Again Lodge. We stayed in the Honeymoon Bungalow, a little red cabin. We wanted to stay forever. It had a little bed, couch, table, plus microwave popcorn and DVDs. The wraparound porch held a table and chairs and a gas grill. I was in love.
Then a glance at our atlas taught me that we were less than a half hour away from the birthplace of Laura Ingalls Wilder. I treasured her nooks as a child, reasons the adventures of Lsura and her family until they almost felt like my own. The TV series was nearly as enchanting. The museum resurrected in her honor was small and a little shabby, but there were a few interesting trinkets and I took home a biography of her captivating life.
And of course, we stopes for cheese curds to snack on. At summertime we utilized the grill and gave our wallets a break, stopping at the supermarket for two sirloin steaks, a red pepper, Vidalia onion and fresh blackberries and raspberries, all for $12. It was divine. If you haven't noticed, we adore food in a big, big way.
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| Moo. Now leave me alone. |
Friday, June 24, 2011
Day 5
We rolled out of bed this morning in Manistique and ate breakfast at Floyd's Family Restaurant. I had a craving for biscuits and gravy with coffee, and it hit the spot. Floyd himself came out to shake our hands and point us toward the local winery, Mackinac Trail. There we sampled a few tasty varietals with the winemaker and bought two bottles to take with us. It was by far the best of our Michigan wine country jaunt.
Did you know there is a place called Christmas, Michigan? We spied it on the map and had to go. It turned out to be a tiny village with the odd yuledtide shop and a casino, but just sout of it lie gorgeous waterfalls and rock formations that give way to Lake Superior.
From Christmas, we wound up to Marquette for dinner and a surprise dose of live jazz. That alone made Marquette a hit in our view. We cruised our way along the lake, basking in newfound sunshine, until a little lakeside campground caught our eyes and we decided to test out our tent. And potential survival skills. It was a blast, y'all! Our neighbor must have caught me reading How to Start a Campfire and came over to help get is started.
We stayed there to watch it danced until the last flame disappeared, drinking wine and looking up at the sprinkled stars. Jun and I both saw a shooting star and I made a wish. In Japan, you have to catch three falling stars in action before you earn the privilege of opening your heart to it. I thought about how my grandma always told me that the very brightest star in the sky was my mother looking down on me, so I found it and said hello just in case. I told Jun about how my dad made me believe in werewolves and we talked about ghosts and UFOs, just as a sudden light swishes across the sky. A plane.
Oh yeah, we never made it outside Michigan.
Did you know there is a place called Christmas, Michigan? We spied it on the map and had to go. It turned out to be a tiny village with the odd yuledtide shop and a casino, but just sout of it lie gorgeous waterfalls and rock formations that give way to Lake Superior.
From Christmas, we wound up to Marquette for dinner and a surprise dose of live jazz. That alone made Marquette a hit in our view. We cruised our way along the lake, basking in newfound sunshine, until a little lakeside campground caught our eyes and we decided to test out our tent. And potential survival skills. It was a blast, y'all! Our neighbor must have caught me reading How to Start a Campfire and came over to help get is started.
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| I knew this book would come in handy. |
Oh yeah, we never made it outside Michigan.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Days 3 & 4
I am taken with the wildflowers along the edges of the road. When I was little, my grandma would pull the car over to the side of the road to pick a handful of black-eyed susans or bluebells. Now that I own a car (thanks, sissy and Jared!) for the first time in nearly a decade, I still have the urge to do that.
Michigan is a lovely state, but aside from Grand Rapids we haven't seen many urban landscapes. We were lucky enough yesterday to stop at a little art gallery in the middle of nowhere after getting the stinkeye from a neighbor in a weather-beaten pickup truck. The artwork was wonderful, especially the sculptures made of found and reclaimed objects. We bought a fish made of an old beer can and tires.
Afterward, the waterside towns of Charlevoix and Petoskey wooed us on the way to the northmost tip of Lower Michigan. Suddenly we were fixated on a real estate posting for an abandoned church that could be converted into a house. Alas, the cold winter months are always looming round the corner.
The rain and frigid air this morning nearly convinced us to call off our visit to Mackinac Island, but the fudge was beckoning so we hopped on a ferry in St. Ignac and 15 minutes later were standing in the midst of that timeless wonderland. It really is a magical place, where horse-drawn carriages pass through the streets and cars are forbidden. There were few breaks in the rain, so our -- well, my -- tandem-bike dreams were never realized. Woe. We did get to see how fudge is made and taste test the gooey goods. After the cherry pie and cherry-chocolate malt balls in Traverse City and a handful of sweets along the way, my sugar buzz is going strong.
Good thing we're getting a good dose of exercise and fresh air, like climbing Sleeping Bear Dunes yesterday. A storm dropped down on us a minute after we made it back down...phew. The weather hasn't given us a chance to try out our tent. For now, it's relative luxury in a clean, inexpensive hotel.
With 652 miles under our tires, tomorrow we venture over the border.
Michigan is a lovely state, but aside from Grand Rapids we haven't seen many urban landscapes. We were lucky enough yesterday to stop at a little art gallery in the middle of nowhere after getting the stinkeye from a neighbor in a weather-beaten pickup truck. The artwork was wonderful, especially the sculptures made of found and reclaimed objects. We bought a fish made of an old beer can and tires.
Afterward, the waterside towns of Charlevoix and Petoskey wooed us on the way to the northmost tip of Lower Michigan. Suddenly we were fixated on a real estate posting for an abandoned church that could be converted into a house. Alas, the cold winter months are always looming round the corner.
The rain and frigid air this morning nearly convinced us to call off our visit to Mackinac Island, but the fudge was beckoning so we hopped on a ferry in St. Ignac and 15 minutes later were standing in the midst of that timeless wonderland. It really is a magical place, where horse-drawn carriages pass through the streets and cars are forbidden. There were few breaks in the rain, so our -- well, my -- tandem-bike dreams were never realized. Woe. We did get to see how fudge is made and taste test the gooey goods. After the cherry pie and cherry-chocolate malt balls in Traverse City and a handful of sweets along the way, my sugar buzz is going strong.
Good thing we're getting a good dose of exercise and fresh air, like climbing Sleeping Bear Dunes yesterday. A storm dropped down on us a minute after we made it back down...phew. The weather hasn't given us a chance to try out our tent. For now, it's relative luxury in a clean, inexpensive hotel.
With 652 miles under our tires, tomorrow we venture over the border.
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| I was this close to an escape, I tell ya. |
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Day 2
Rustic towns abound in Northern Michigan. They seem to be thriving, too. Along the highway, clusters of colorful shops, cafes and general stores still line Main Street, although it often goes by another name. Wood-cloaked saloons are well-patronized by the locals, and strawberry stands attract plenty of attention.
Traverse City is as charming as they come, copied straight from an antique postcard. We wandered through the bustling downtown, headed out to the peninsula sample the goods at two wineries, where unfortunately the views were far superior to the wines, and then took up a perch at a packed microbrewery and pub, Mackinaw Brewing Co. We shared a brisket sandwich and I had the Summer Love wheat beer with a wedge of lemon. Sunshine in a cup.
Next stop: Sleeping Bear Dunes.
For pics of the day's adventures, visit www.twitter.com/wander_love
Traverse City is as charming as they come, copied straight from an antique postcard. We wandered through the bustling downtown, headed out to the peninsula sample the goods at two wineries, where unfortunately the views were far superior to the wines, and then took up a perch at a packed microbrewery and pub, Mackinaw Brewing Co. We shared a brisket sandwich and I had the Summer Love wheat beer with a wedge of lemon. Sunshine in a cup.
Next stop: Sleeping Bear Dunes.
For pics of the day's adventures, visit www.twitter.com/wander_love
Monday, June 20, 2011
Day 1
Raging thunderstorms and a long conversation with an Allstate rep in which we were told that our car insurance policy had been terminated (it hadn't exactly) set us off on a belated start, but Jun and I eventually made it out of the driveway and partially up the Michigan mitten.
We drove through scenery from my childhood before taking the two-lane backroads to South Haven, a picturesque town on a stretch of Lake Michigan. We walked past the cute shops toward the lighthouse, and then both looked at each other and said, "Let's live here!" the only problem: terrible, terrifyingly cold winters.
So we settled for a late lunch of salad, fish and local beer, then cruised through Holland, stopped in Grand Rapids for a couple amazing hot dogs from Yesterdog and kept going up to Wolf Lake. Dumpy roadside motels rock.
Along the way, I learned that Jun doesn't so much as caress the brakes for deer. I wonder what would happen if we saw a bear on the side of the road.
For photos, check out our Twitter page at http://www.twitter.com/wander_love
We drove through scenery from my childhood before taking the two-lane backroads to South Haven, a picturesque town on a stretch of Lake Michigan. We walked past the cute shops toward the lighthouse, and then both looked at each other and said, "Let's live here!" the only problem: terrible, terrifyingly cold winters.
So we settled for a late lunch of salad, fish and local beer, then cruised through Holland, stopped in Grand Rapids for a couple amazing hot dogs from Yesterdog and kept going up to Wolf Lake. Dumpy roadside motels rock.
Along the way, I learned that Jun doesn't so much as caress the brakes for deer. I wonder what would happen if we saw a bear on the side of the road.
For photos, check out our Twitter page at http://www.twitter.com/wander_love
Sunday, June 19, 2011
On the road
A little history on us adventure-hungry newlyweds: We were in the midst of planning our wedding, leaving our jobs, packing up our 350-square-foot Tokyo apartment and getting ready for a move overseas when the earthquake struck on March 11 and spun our world around. It was a heartbreaking reminder to tally our blessings, to keep sight of what is important in this delicate life.
We tied the knot three weeks ago yesterday in a cozy little barn set on the edge of an apple orchard while the rain poured down outside and the candle flames flickered indoors. It wasn't the plan, but it was perfect.
Now, before the career reboots, the home, the babies, we are packing a few belongings and traversing the wide open spaces of sweet, strange America. The cuisine, people, panoramas and oddball attractions of the sprawling cities and quaint countryside await.
The journey begins tomorrow.
We tied the knot three weeks ago yesterday in a cozy little barn set on the edge of an apple orchard while the rain poured down outside and the candle flames flickered indoors. It wasn't the plan, but it was perfect.
Now, before the career reboots, the home, the babies, we are packing a few belongings and traversing the wide open spaces of sweet, strange America. The cuisine, people, panoramas and oddball attractions of the sprawling cities and quaint countryside await.
The journey begins tomorrow.
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