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10/28/01
In part two of this exciting Road Blog, you'll find out where not to stay in Indiana, where not to stop in Ohio, and much, much more...
The western half of Indiana was a nighttime blur, as we drove mercilessly (well, I navigated mercilessly), determined to make it to the other side of Indianapolis so we wouldn't have to face Midwestern rush hour in the morning. So we drove on past that strange, exactly-centered city rising suddenly from the flat farms and stopped in Greenfield, a truck-stop suburb. The AAA guidebook suggested Lees Inn (yes "Lees" as in the dregs of a wine keg--I thought it was a typo until I saw the sign). There, we asked for the whirlpool suite, thinking to soothe our aching muscles the way we had in Billings, Montana.
I waited outside while J checked on the room, and shortly, she burst out of the hotel, laughing hysterically. The room as she described it was nothing less than a den of sin. The jacuzzi tub (or "sex bucket," to use J's term) was situated right next to the bed, instead of in the bathroom. Bestween gasps of exhausted laughter, she said the room smelled of chlorine and mildew. We began speculating as to past activity in the room, and it wasn't a pretty thought. So we settled in a perfectly nice room at the nearby Comfort Inn. We found out on subsequent nights that the hot-tub-next-to-bed arrangement is standard on this side of the Rockies.
And I thought Midwesterners were staid.
When you drive through Ohio, do not stop in Columbus for lunch! You may never leave again. Every on-ramp to I-70 East is closed. Every. On. Ramp. Is. Closed.
It's the Hotel California of cities.
We were delayed so long that by the time we made the Pennsylvania border, night had fallen. So I missed the no-doubt gorgeous autumnal foliage, but we made excellent time along the turnpike, and pulled into J's mom's house at a fairly reasonable hour to warm hugs and hot lentil soup. Happy sigh...
In the morning, we caught the bus to NYC. It was driven by a Dutchie lady not unlike Large Marge in Pee-Wee's Playhouse. She was stern but loving, and she guided us through the bus rules like a kindergarten teacher with 40 years under her belt and one to go.
"There will be no smoking or drinking of alcohol."
"There will be no using of cell phones, except in the rear of the bus. You will sit with cell phones turned off."
"There will be no music from headphones loud enough for the driver to hear." (One young man clearly on his way to volunteer for the NYFD got a reprimand for this transgression halfway through the trip.)
(More next entry. I don't want to hog the hotel computer any more.)
10/25/01
Road Blog
Hello from New York City. We've just had a fine evening drinking and meeting wonderful people in Brooklyn, and now we're relaxing in the lovely Casablanca Hotel, where the Internet is free.
How did we get here?
It all started in Seattle. We drove off down I-90, in our rented Ford Escape full of healthy snacks. Spokane was good to us, offering a fantastic brewpub to watch that magical 6th inning of game three of the M's ill-fated run for the AL championship ("but who could begrudge the Yankees the series this year?" asked an earnest Brooklynite of me this evening... ).
From Spokane, we sped across the Palouse to Montana (We skipped Idaho. Let us not speak of it.), where we bunked in a charming motel in Missoula. The morning brought a delightful walk through the icy cold town and an unbelievable vegetarian breakfast at the Raven's Nest Cafe. Then some antique shopping, and it was back on the road. We only made it to Billings, but that was just fine, as our backs hurt, and there was a whirlpool in the bathroom there. Aaaahh.
Having gotten behind on our itinerary, we decided to drive until we dropped the next day. And drive we did, leaving Montana, Wyoming, and most of Nebraska behind. Our only stop was a brief interlude at Agate Fossil Beds National Monument. A cowboy on horseback rode a ridge in the morning sunshine in Wyoming, first of a series of Americana portraits that we were sure were set up by eager marketing flacks on state tourist boards. Each state had some charm to offer.
But Nebraska stank. If ever any meat eater needed inspiration to go veg, it is Nebraska. The utterly gag-inducing stench of the hog and cattle production there is revolting.
In Iowa, we stopped in Grinnell, to see the small liberal arts college J almost attended, then said a brief howdy in passing to Iowa City, the lovely little place B&B called home for a while. Iowa was pretty. Lots of rolling hills and autumn colors on the trees.
I'm too tired to sum up Indiana and Ohio, so I'll leave those for next entry. All those vowel states used to be a mid-country blur to me. Now I have visuals to go with their names. I'm having lots of fun.
10/11/01
Well, it's October at last! A delightful month to be human. Everything smells good (now that I can smell again--just recovering from a nasty head cold). Vast quantities of leaves have started to fall on our house, and there's lots of cider to be drunk. Aahh.
Went to Rockaraoke last night with N and K. Did not sing. I had a really great time, but it would have been better if J had been there (she is sick now).
J just came downstairs to show me the newspaper--3 American physicists got the Nobel prize for producing a Bose-Einstein condensate. Perhaps I'll get one for the interesting things that are going on in my worm bin.
We're getting ready to take a huge road trip, and I'm very excited. Starting out from Seattle, we'll drive across the US on I-90 or I-80 (my former truck-driver dad says "it's all wheat after the mountains, either way"). Then we head directly to our beloved and beleaguered New York City to visit friends. After that, it's on to Pennsylvania, to stay briefly with J's mom. We split up then, and I hop a train to Montreal for the World Fantasy Convention! J joins me there after a few days, then we drive back home across mighty Canada. Oh, Canada!
It's going to be fun...
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