Pictorial randoms

St. Louis, Missouri

St. Louis, Missouri

Medical airlift, US-95, Nevada

Wreck causes jam near Artois, California

Fire-damaged building, Detroit, Michigan

Detroit, Michigan

Detroit, MI

Kimmy's Bar, Detroit, Michigan

Fortune from Chinese restaurant, Detroit, Michigan

Penn Station, Baltimore, Maryland

Baltimore, Maryland

Baltimore, Maryland

Basilica, Baltimore, Maryland

Basilica, Baltimore, Maryland

Basilica basement, Baltimore, Maryland

Radio, Ames, Iowa

Alex's very Portland looking bike, New York

New York City, New York

Busker outside the Met, New York

Sign on I-75 for Oregon, Ohio

The Columbia outside Arlington, Oregon

Windfarm, Arlington, Oregon

Osburn, Idaho

Osburn, Idaho

Strangely appropriate songs

These songs showed up on my iPod, sometimes at completely appropriate moments.

Big Sur - The Thrills
Heaven or Las Vegas - Cocteau Twins
Ventura Highway - America (while I was driving on it)
Spirit of St Louis - British Sea Power
Girl from NYC (Named Julia) - Of Montreal
Lovecraft in Brooklyn - The Mountain Goats
Black Sheep Boy #4 - Okkervil River (has line about Baltimore)
Summer in the City - Regina Spektor
Ode to LA - The Raveonettes

These songs, thankfully, did not play on my iPod at appropriate moments.

Sweet Home Alabama - Lynyrd Skynyrd
Anything by Boston
Anything by Kansas
Anything by Chicago
Hotel California - The Eagles

What happened to John Irving

I have been asked that I should probably explain what happened to John Irving, or more appropriately what the hell was the point of this whole following the route of this character etcetera. I read this short story, called Almost in Iowa, when I didn't even know how to drive. I was fascinated by the idea of a road trip, of escape, alone across a vast swathe of country. So I wrote down the route and promised myself that one day I would drive it. And now probably over a decade later, I have driven that route, more or less. What I learned was that first, after repurchasing the book before my trip, that I didn't like the story that much anymore and that the trip itself was a little ho-hum. I nonetheless persisted (such is the power of dreams from one's misspent youth) on driving this route that this character took as he ran from an unfaithful wife and a probable divorce he found hard to face. I didn't particularly like this character any longer either, so ultimately I did the drive because it happened to be a decent eastern route and out of sheer stubbornness. In the end, it was a bit of a bust, and during my detours off the route the character took, I was enjoying my trip, instead of following his tedious route. I think I had some idea that it would turn out to be interesting, that I could perhaps relate to the character (I tried in an earlier post but it was a stretch) but nope, it really wasn't up to much. So there it is, one of the few failures of a very successful trip. In that perhaps is the best way that I could relate to John Irving's writing (including this particular story) which is often about personal, human failures.

Lies, damned lies, and...

Total miles driven: 10,305
Number of states visited: 38
Number of stops: 22
Number of interstates driven: 34
Bottles of caffeinated beverages consumed: 20 (approximation)
Longest single day drive (hours): 13 (Manchester, NH to Cleveland, OH)
Number of Wall Drug billboards in South Dakota: 600,000 (approximation)
Number of anti-abortion billboards seen: 13 (Kansas 7, Iowa 2, South Dakota 2, Montana 1)
Number of museums visited: 12
Number of museums with a map better than PAM's: 12 (including the Spam Museum in Austin, MN)
Number of animals killed accidentally: 0, although I was in the car when a squirrel decided to run out in front of Alex's car
Car damage: Small crack in windshield
Human damage: Cramp in leg during sleep made for a painful couple of days in Iowa adding to sniffles caught in St. Louis
Worst food: McDonald's, Wichita, KS and Waffle House, Montgomery, AL
Best food: Clancy's, New Orleans

I can't think of what other stats, although some keep coming to me. Ideas welcome. Map of route forthcoming.

End Road Work

In reference to Kate's comment on the last post that she can't believe it's been this long already, I can't believe it either. Whenever I start telling a story, I automatically time reference it to when I left Portland instead of the actual time. It doesn't feel like five weeks. I feel like I left only a couple of days ago with much adventure ahead.

In a way, that is true. This trip has been good for me mentally. There's so much now that I feel I am more motivated to do, quite a few projects that I want to get done, which include completing this blog. It has been fun to write it, and I hope it's been at least at some points an entertaining read. This is probably my last post from the road as I'm about to leave Missoula and head towards Spokane and then head south to the old I-84.

So yes, despite an addictive urge to keep exploring, I'm also looking forward to being back at home and to get started on some creative projects and start investigating what options I have regarding my long-term future. Well, maybe not long-term, I've never been good at planning for that. But at least take a look and see where I might want to be heading (you see how equivocal that last sentence was? I still need work, of course.)


Road signs have been one of the most hilarious parts of the trip, and I have to say that often times I don't even know I'm in a work zone until a random End Road Work sign appears on the side of the road. I like random endings.


View Leg 23: Portland in a larger map

Roadie

There was an echo of Detroit circa 2001 last night. Back then, I used to help a punk band load up and load out of shows, taking pictures for them too. Last night, it was Lee's band.

The Colonel

I got into Missoula after a rather annoying drive. I've been bothered by allergies since St. Louis, unusual for me, and yesterday I had to stop several times because the drainage was hurting my eyes too much. It complicated the drive a bit but I managed to make it in good time for Lee's show. I then helped his band load up the amps and drums for the show and then attended the show. There were only a few people around. The first band was really really growly metal, and then Lee's band is sleazy glam rock-ish, whatever that means. They were definitely better than the first band.

Lee's got a great collection of KISS dolls. We drove around and took pictures because I wanted to finish the roll that was in the camera before getting back to Portland. Some random results below.











Very much a college town, Missoula. I've had my fair share of those on this trip. I've decided to stick around another day. I just needed the rest really badly after two rather long drives dealing with the allergies. I think I return tomorrow to the homestead.


View Leg 22: Missoula, Montana in a larger map

24 Hour Toe Service

The level of English in South Dakota must be rather low (loe?) if spelling such as this makes it onto a giant roadside billboard. Puts a whole new spin on the term Autobody Shop. Perhaps their tagline is "Real Men Get Pedicured"? Okay, I'll stop.

I seem to have a knack for picking the most Christian coffee shop in a given city. At least their wifi works, unlike the last place I was at in Portland, Maine. There's a cute little youth group going on and they were watching a video with uplifting string music when I walked in. Yes, yes, I'm brown and wearing a hat, I wanted to yell as they stared.

Today's drive took longer than I thought, probably because I decided to go east on I-90 to visit the Spam Museum in Austin, Minnesota. I should have visited more of those weird museums on my trip so I felt like making up a bit. Of course, their map is way better than PAM's. What a trippy place. I've made it to Rapid City, South Dakota, but in the fading light I didn't think I wanted to drive down to Mount Rushmore. The funny thing about South Dakota is that you wouldn't know the biggest attraction in the state is Mt. Rushmore. I mean, you do, there are signs, but there were probably about three signs per mile for something called Wall Drug that seemed to sell or carry everything. There were hundreds of road signs, large, small, all exhorting one to visit this place. It was so insistent that I couldn't drive past it fast enough when I finally got to the place after over 200 miles of experiencing it via billboard. I sort of wonder what it is but I was so dreading that someone would be stopping traffic on the freeway and making sure this place be visited or else.

I doubt Mt Rushmore will make it into my itinerary after all. I have to be in Missoula by the early evening as Lee (or the Colonel as he's known to most people) will be playing a show that evening with his band. I'd like to attend the show, and the 10 hour drive might turn into 11 with stops so an early start is a must.

South Dakota has been unfriendly for the most part. I was also followed by a cop for a while. I hadn't been speeding. He just showed up behind me, sat there, then pulled alongside and took a look at me, and then slowed down again and then faded into the distance. A little alarming.

The youth group is dispersing. They are staring. I'm staring back. Don't try to convert this heathen! I'm off to the local brewery.


View Leg 21: Rapid City, South Dakota in a larger map

Pool shark

The trip has entered a very relaxing, sedate stage. Things are winding down. I've only got one more week before heading back to work and the daily routine. I'm a little surprised that I'm not tired of the road. I want to continue doing this, end the circle and then head back again, see more things, meet more people.

St. Louis continued to be a relaxing time with Pierre, as it has been with all my good friends. On Sunday night, his wife Angela came back into town as she'd been seeing her dad back in Oklahoma. Pierre and I have a good time together for sure, but somehow having her around acts as a bit of a catalyst and we all have even more fun. I think both him and I respond to her presence by being funnier, and I always get a kick out of having someone else to talk to about Pierre, someone that obviously knows him pretty well. I didn't really do anything touristy in St. Louis, apart from waving at the arch from a distance and going to the ball game. Saturday was supremely lazy, spent talking about soccer (with apologies to Mr. Toady, Pierre and I came up with our respective all-time best 11 players in each position, excluding Pele and Maradona. Fascinating, I agree), doing laundry, and hanging out at the bar.

Mama's Deli in Iowa City, IAI arrived in Ames, Iowa on Monday night, and have been stomping around the old stomping grounds of two of my roommates, Scott and Rob (and I guess Allison too). I'm staying here with a good friend of Scott's, Tim and his girlfriend Nicole. They are both super nice, super easy to get along with. Yesterday and today have involved three things mainly: beer, pool and pizza. Again, a very relaxing time, made even better by the fact that I don't know them that well. I have a feeling though that I will be friends with them from now on. He's one hell of a cool guy and she's obviously very smart and quite fun too. This stay over here reminds me of staying with Dane and Annie in eastern Washington on my move from Oklahoma to Portland. Dane was a fellow groomsman in Jake and Susan's wedding in 2006 right before I moved to Portland and had told me I could crash at his place on my way to Portland if I needed to. Two people I'd met only briefly before but had a great time with.
Tim

The working toilet in Tim and Nicole's basement

I am looking forward to seeing some of the people (and animals) back in Portland though. Five weeks isn't very long but when you see most of these people every day, it does seem a little long. Looking forward to hearing some stories from other people. And Scott just told me a really funny story via text message. Apparently he'd been looking all over the house for Roberta, his golden retriever. He couldn't find her and noticed that the door to my room was open. He found her sleeping on my bed (everybody say "Awwww"). What a cutie.


View Leg 20: Ames, Iowa in a larger map

Glass break

The cop stands beside his motorcycle, still as a statue, pointing his radar gun menacingly in my direction. As I slow down even below the speed limit as I wasn't going that fast, I pass him. I look in the rear view mirror, dreading him getting on his bike and chasing me down for some infraction. But he doesn't.

I think the worst state I've encountered yet for speeding violations is Virginia. It's also the only state where radar detectors are illegal. The thing that was a bit freaky was how the cops used unmarked Chevy Impalas, so you could never be sure the car speeding up behind you was a cop or not. Ohio I've known about for a long time. I remember when I was driving from Detroit to Oklahoma back in early 2002, I saw six cop cars in the last 30 miles of I-70 that are in Ohio. Texas has a lot of speeders and I almost always saw a cop with a car pulled over.

I like St. Louis. I've been here before but I've never hung out over here. I got in about 5 and met up with Pierre after he got off work, and as we were driving around looking for a place to eat, we picked up some ticket to the baseball game from a scalper and ended up standing for three hours watching the Cardinals beat the Cubs. This was probably my last chance to catch a baseball game on this trip, good to have managed to squeeze it in.

John Irving's character had his car vandalized in Joliet, Illinois. Mine was fine when I left the city, but between Joliet and DeKalb a pebble hit my windshield and now I've got a crack on the passenger side. Darn semis.


View Leg 19: St. Louis in a larger map

Collegiate life

The following exchange I had at a gas station pretty much says all there is to say about Joliet, Illinois.

"Am I in Joliet?"
"Yes. Is there something specific you're looking for?"
"No, just Joliet."
[laughter from both gas station attendants]

John Irving said something like Joliet is where Chicago parks its trucks, and I had a hard time disagreeing with him last night. It was a rather convoluted route to take to get to DeKalb, Illinois from Joliet but I made it, even though again I had to skip a toll. This time there was an unattended coin basket and I didn't have any coins. Great. I paid the 80 cents online later. Hope no one comes chasing after me for it.

Kelsie and Pete and their friends were already well on their way down the bottle before I got here, so I thought it polite to join them as we went on a bit of a bar run in this college town. I can't believe I drove Kelsie's car home now in the bright light of day. I think I just wanted to drive a Prius. It's weird turning a car on instead of turning a key, and it makes no noise when it starts. It is funny how many Priuses (Priuii?} I see on the freeway speeding. Seems to me to be against the ethos of the car.

The night before, with our game waitress

Kelsie at breakfast

I woke up really disoriented and it took me a few minutes to figure out whether I was in a bed, on a futon or on a couch. I think being on the ground on an air mattress did that. I still felt like I was in Detroit. And by tonight I'll be disoriented in St. Louis with Pierre.


View Leg 18: DeKalb, Illinois in a larger map

Down and out in Detroit

I'm sitting with April at the very first bar that I ever came to in the United States, the Majestic, which also has Grand Bowl, the oldest bowling alley in America and the small club/poolhall upstairs called the Magic Stick. I came here with Chris, my roommate at the time. He was an alcoholic and I think he was still using heroin when I lived with him. By coincidence, we found out later that we knew some people in common, specifically April's estranged husband Scott and his band at the time. I was sort of a road photographer for Scott's band briefly while Chris knew the old lead singer for the band. I asked about Chris last night when I went out with Scott and April, and Scott told me that he saw Chris panhandling outside of CVS the other day. I went to that CVS today looking for him. I didn't see him but I did talk to another panhandler and the manager of the store and they knew of him. He was a pretty terrible roommate and when I left Detroit I was glad to be rid of him. He was very much into music and introduced me to Modest Mouse. He lived in Portland in the early 90s, worked for Nike and saw the grunge movement take off firsthand. He was working for the public radio station at Wayne State University when I left. I'm definitely surprised he's ended up like he has.

Detroit means a lot of things to me but mostly I remember the culture shock and the unhappy first seven months I spent here. I wish I could live here now because I still like it. It was odd driving into Detroit yesterday on Fort Street and seeing all the boarded up buildings and most of Tiger Stadium gone and the area around it even more decrepit. When the Tigers moved downtown to Comerica Park, it was the first step in revitalizing downtown Detroit. It just meant that the bars and shops around the old Tiger Stadium closed down and now it's a sad little neighbourhood where people just drive through and don't stop.

What's left of Tiger Stadium

I walked around campus and a lot of strange memories kept coming back to me. The picture to the left is of the classroom where my first American class was held. I'm much different now of course than I was seven, eight years ago when I lived here. I regret that I didn't really enjoy this city like I would now. It is unlikely that I'd ever live in Detroit again though. The city is not doing well, it never was, and now with the economy this place has been hit hard. Diego Rivera did a mural of Detroit industry at the Detroit Institute of Arts that I saw today. It's beautiful; it was interesting looking at that old vibrant Detroit and compare it to the doldrums the city has now been in for far too long.


View Leg 17: Detroit in a larger map

The Burning River

Finding good beer has been a challenge often on this trip, and thanks again to Victor, the biermeister that he is, I've ended up at Great Lakes Brewery in Cleveland. I just happened to be drinking his favourite beer (the very good Burning River pale ale) when I just spoke with him on the phone. And apparently when I called the first time and nobody picked up, Miro, Ted and Lena were looking at this blog on Victor's desk. Hi guys!

The Burning River Amber

It's too bad a lot of the Cleveland Museum of Art is closed for renovation. It opens in June, I believe. It looked like they had a lot of great art in some of the closed galleries.

The bartender is from Newcastle. Poor man. His team, Newcastle United, are one of the basketcases of English soccer. No shortage of drama when it comes to that team, no shortage of saviours and no shortage of pipe dreams. We spoke about that for a bit. I've unfortunately parked in short-term parking or I would spend more time here. But considering the number of great beers they have on tap perhaps it's for the best if I'm ever going to make it to Detroit in one piece.

Taking its toll

What do they do with all the toll money on the East Coast? There are tolls everywhere. No sooner have you paid one you stop again and they give you another little ticket to carry to the next booth. Inevitably, I didn't think to get enough cash and came up two dollars short at a New York state tollbooth. They gave me a little receipt and told me to pay it either by mail within 5 days or at the next tollbooth. It took a confusing hour to find an ATM off the next exit and to get back onto the freeway as this part of New York wasn't very accommodating with its services.

Yesterday's drive was probably the longest and most stressful of the trip. Not an auspicious beginning to the Irving trip. I'm not sure now about this character. He's never been a very sympathetic being, running pathetically in that way from his troubles. Which is probably why I've had a bit of an affinity for him. I left Manchester early but it took me a lot longer to get through to Bennington, Vermont than I anticipated. This is where the first leg of the character's trip ends, and I ate over here and finally got my oil changed. I was very stressed about my car the whole of yesterday's drive, especially since the oil change fella told me I probably needed my transmission flushed. I took it to a transmission place in Cleveland this morning and they said nothing was needed, so I feel better. After finally getting out of Vermont, I didn't think I'd be in New York state for as long as I was. That is one hell of a long state, and although parts of it are pretty, a lot of it is boring. And I had that toll thing add to my time. I finally got to Cleveland after 13 hours on the road, to be greeting by Victor's very nice parents and their very nice house.

I spoke with a fellow Liverpool fan at the Airport Diner in Manchester, NH. I can't believe I've now missed two 4-4 draws in a week. I must catch the next game. Of course, it will probably finish 0-0.


View Leg 16: Cleveland via John Irving in a larger map

Live free or die

What an adversarial motto New Hampshire has. I'm now in Manchester, New Hampshire, staying in a motel for the evening. I had it in my head that I was going to start heading back west from Portland, Maine, but it made a lot for sense to retrace my route along I-95. That's the first time in this whole trip that I've done that. I then finally started heading west on Route 101 which happens to go through Exeter. The Exeter prep school was where John Irving went to high school and where he started wrestling. I did not realize I was going to be driving near Exeter at all so this was a serendipitous beginning to the Almost in Iowa part of the trip.

Manchester is, believe it or not, whiter than Portland (OR). 91.75% white, wikipedia tells me. I'll feel right at home then. It's a small place, only about a 150,000 people but it's the largest city north of Boston in the whole of New England. I'm debating whether I should go to this place downtown called The Strange Brew. I'm quite tired.

Portland, Maine is actually just about as white as Manchester. There are surprisingly quite a few famous people from this particular Portland, and the Portland where I live was named for this town too. Guster is apparently their biggest musical export. Manchester on the other hand really only gave us Adam Sandler. Oh, and the founders of MacDonald's are from here. Should I take that as a sign, just like I took it as a sign that I should stay in this motel because it's on Brown Avenue?


View Leg 15: New England in a larger map

The vegan Christians of Portland

Of course I must post something from Portland, Maine. Too bad it is Monday and the museum is closed. I've made pretty good time to here so I don't think I'll be sticking around for that long. The city does seem a little run down, not that clean, but there are a few bars that I saw along this main street (Congress) that had very Oregonian Portland looking hipsters hanging outside smoking. I'm writing this from Little Lad's Bakery and Cafe. Across from me sits one of the employees. He's from Jamaica and he's singing along to the Christian rock that's playing on the stereo. I found out two things pretty quickly after I walked in: that this is a vegan coffee shop and that it's a Christian-themed shop. The popcorn is supposed to be amazing.


It's weird being on the other side of the country. My trip to New York really was great and now that I've spent some good times with a good friend, there's a bit of a stretch where I don't know anyone. And I'm taking a trip that follows a character from a rather sad story, a man dominated by a possibly unfaithful wife who decides to run from her. In a way, some of that pain that I felt after the end of my relationship with Alex returned during my visit with her, and that somehow feels connected to this man who is running from a different kind of pain. His pain is definitely greater. Mine is an odd sort of pain. There's a happiness that Alex and I are still good friends and enjoy each others' company. And there's a sadness of two sorts for me, one that things were never ideal for us when we were dating (but when are they for anyone?) and that Alex lives quite a distance away. It might be a while before I see her again, and I definitely will miss her companionship. I am happy though again that she's doing really well and enjoying her time in New York. It's crazy what an effect other people can have on your life.

Time to pick up a little souvenir from this little town called Portland. I think I've got a bit of driving still today before I find a spot to sleep in.