Brace yourselves:
Total days traveled: 24 (in the car together)
Total (estimated) miles accumulated: 7,825.71
Total nights spent in hotels: 5
Total nights spent in homes of family and friends: 15
Total nights camping: 3
Total states we drove through: 25
Total regions we were in: 8 out of a possible 9 (depending on the map)
Total money spent on gas: $1,116.46
Car related issues:
2 tickets; 1 parking (Chicago) / 1 speeding (Montana, which is not even fair as they only instituted a speeding limit a few years ago, around the same time that they decided to hop on the 'open container law' band wagon. Yeah, that's right)
1 minor fender bender
1 much needed oil change
And that in a numeric nut shell is our trip.
But it was much more exciting than that.
Stay tuned for photos.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Back again, for now
We have visited many cities, but there is no doubt that New York is THE.
I had to leave R on the Arlington street corner to travel the last leg of our cross country trip on the Vamoose bus (not a bad ride) alone. I know that we'll have to do this many more times as we will each call a different city our home, but the first time is (hopefully) the hardest. Ce la vie.
After four stiff hours (though I finally did crack a book open) I won't deny the slight flip my stomach made when I saw the empire state building from the New Jersey interstate, or the perspiration that fretted by brow the moment I dragged myself and my too many belongings down the steps to the subway. Ah, the NYC subway. How I missed you and immediately hated you - I feel instantly at home.
The subway was sardine-crowded at 4 o'clock and I threw a few elbows and nestled myself into the center of the car for the ride downtown. The subway entered some old fat man's sweaty armpit around Broadway-Nassau and the smell lingered so long that we passengers continued to eye one another suspiciously and then ourselves worriedly until it up and left three stops later.
I strode down the Brooklyn blocks happy to see that not too much had changed in my three week absence (you never know). I put the key into the lock at 116, followed the same though newly painted white (wonderfully welcoming) steps up and into someone else's apt. Yes, it's tricky. I was going to be house sitting for my landladies and their arc of animals but their plans have changed and they graciously offered me a (familiar) place to stay, still, if I cared too. And I did. So, while the new us is away on business I am staying in his/my old apartment. My goodness it is strange, though the new us has terribly good taste in decor (modern-y vintage).
{sigh}
Without a true purpose in NYC I dare say that my presence will be scarce. I will run my errands, say my hellos and goodbyes and get back out to CT to prepare for the next voyage.
But first, a stroll around the neighborhood, some food and a drink with a few friends.
~L
I had to leave R on the Arlington street corner to travel the last leg of our cross country trip on the Vamoose bus (not a bad ride) alone. I know that we'll have to do this many more times as we will each call a different city our home, but the first time is (hopefully) the hardest. Ce la vie.
After four stiff hours (though I finally did crack a book open) I won't deny the slight flip my stomach made when I saw the empire state building from the New Jersey interstate, or the perspiration that fretted by brow the moment I dragged myself and my too many belongings down the steps to the subway. Ah, the NYC subway. How I missed you and immediately hated you - I feel instantly at home.
The subway was sardine-crowded at 4 o'clock and I threw a few elbows and nestled myself into the center of the car for the ride downtown. The subway entered some old fat man's sweaty armpit around Broadway-Nassau and the smell lingered so long that we passengers continued to eye one another suspiciously and then ourselves worriedly until it up and left three stops later.
I strode down the Brooklyn blocks happy to see that not too much had changed in my three week absence (you never know). I put the key into the lock at 116, followed the same though newly painted white (wonderfully welcoming) steps up and into someone else's apt. Yes, it's tricky. I was going to be house sitting for my landladies and their arc of animals but their plans have changed and they graciously offered me a (familiar) place to stay, still, if I cared too. And I did. So, while the new us is away on business I am staying in his/my old apartment. My goodness it is strange, though the new us has terribly good taste in decor (modern-y vintage).
{sigh}
Without a true purpose in NYC I dare say that my presence will be scarce. I will run my errands, say my hellos and goodbyes and get back out to CT to prepare for the next voyage.
But first, a stroll around the neighborhood, some food and a drink with a few friends.
~L
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Stoney Gap
It's official, R grew up in the middle of nowhere, but a lovely nowhere. We arrived in the bustling metropolis of Big Stone Gap, VA around 6p.m. (that's Eastern Standard Time - we are back!).
We were greeted at his childhood home by his wonderful parents and the smell of chicken curry. We chilled out, chatted and then scarfed (referring to me, really) down some fried zucchini flowers, shrimp, chicken curry, rice, some sort of heavenly broccoli slaw and something slightly spicy and delicious involving cabbage. And then, not able to resist and having to tend to this belly that has become its own person with a zip code and cell phone, I took Mrs. Saha's offer of dessert. She had made cheesecake and had some Indian sweets. These sweets that R is not so into are amazing. Crazy sweet, yes, but like shortbread or baklava, but without the syrup. Ugh god. I had to put myself to bed before my belly requested more food and later curfews.
This morning we set out for a jog - not something epic that would erase the food fest of the last few days, but something that might reacquaint our legs with the notion of activity. The jog felt great, even in the rain and despite some nagging knee problems. We were quickly rewarded with a breakfast of champions - home made samosas, fried eggplant and pooris - home made flat bread. Oh man. so good! I have to stop this constant buffet.
We are back in the car heading East to DC. This is for sure the last of our trip. Our car conversations have turned to u-hauls, time schedules, packing, and other such boring details. Reality is starting to settle in. But we still have a night in DC with friends and a kick ass bus trip to look forward to tomorrow (for the lady).
There is still more tallying to come. I'm sure several questions remain, such as how much money did we spend on gas? How many miles did we drive? How many states did we travel through or stay in? Favorite spots? Best meals? There's a whole lot to consider and discuss.
And there's always something lurking around the bend. What does a homeless, roaming Brooklynite do without a Brooklyn brownstone (rental) to call her own? Not to mention the pending road trip: part deux out to my new home of Chicago.
Yes, the travels continue. For the moment I look forward to getting back to New York, albeit briefly.
Image closer: a virtual Big Stone Gap postcard. Enjoy!
We were greeted at his childhood home by his wonderful parents and the smell of chicken curry. We chilled out, chatted and then scarfed (referring to me, really) down some fried zucchini flowers, shrimp, chicken curry, rice, some sort of heavenly broccoli slaw and something slightly spicy and delicious involving cabbage. And then, not able to resist and having to tend to this belly that has become its own person with a zip code and cell phone, I took Mrs. Saha's offer of dessert. She had made cheesecake and had some Indian sweets. These sweets that R is not so into are amazing. Crazy sweet, yes, but like shortbread or baklava, but without the syrup. Ugh god. I had to put myself to bed before my belly requested more food and later curfews.
This morning we set out for a jog - not something epic that would erase the food fest of the last few days, but something that might reacquaint our legs with the notion of activity. The jog felt great, even in the rain and despite some nagging knee problems. We were quickly rewarded with a breakfast of champions - home made samosas, fried eggplant and pooris - home made flat bread. Oh man. so good! I have to stop this constant buffet.
We are back in the car heading East to DC. This is for sure the last of our trip. Our car conversations have turned to u-hauls, time schedules, packing, and other such boring details. Reality is starting to settle in. But we still have a night in DC with friends and a kick ass bus trip to look forward to tomorrow (for the lady).
There is still more tallying to come. I'm sure several questions remain, such as how much money did we spend on gas? How many miles did we drive? How many states did we travel through or stay in? Favorite spots? Best meals? There's a whole lot to consider and discuss.
And there's always something lurking around the bend. What does a homeless, roaming Brooklynite do without a Brooklyn brownstone (rental) to call her own? Not to mention the pending road trip: part deux out to my new home of Chicago.
Yes, the travels continue. For the moment I look forward to getting back to New York, albeit briefly.
Image closer: a virtual Big Stone Gap postcard. Enjoy!
Monday, August 25, 2008
A Memphis swoon
When in Memphis, one must visit Graceland. It seems sacrilege to the art of music to skip it, even for the mildest of Elvis fans.
Not that doing so is the easiest or, rather, cheapest. You have to pay $8 for parking and a hot $27 for the basic mansion tour (audio equipment included). I won't deny my vague attraction to 'The King' mostly for his intrinsic connection to a certain era and a lot of ephemera, but this seemed a bit much.
Let me say this, my friends, the expense, the time, the drive - it is all worth it.
With the purr of an NPR-voiced narrator guiding me from the twin peacock glass windows in the living room to the endearingly gaudy meditation garden at the end, I got to know Elvis (the PG-rated version). There's his late 70's decorating style (each room had a theme), his truly ridiculous stage outfits (who brought Elvis and the jumpsuit together?), and his still-down-home-persistence. His parents and grandmother lived with him and he gave money to charities that run the gamut (girl scouts to old folks homes). He's huge, absurd, talented and in his best years, a genuine cutie-pants. So I walked through his estate, lived Elvis, loved Elvis and, at the end, mourned Elvis. I might have been a little teary-eyed, which I made up for by purchasing armfuls of Elvis paraphernalia. I am a sucker, I'll admit it, but this tour was definitely a highlight.
On to Bar-B-Que. No, I'm jumping ahead. We went to Sun Studios next (Stax was closed) and got a very entertaining guided tour through the recording studio's early history - Howlin' Wolf, Carl Perkins, Johnny Cash, Roy Orbison and, of course, Elvis Presley. Throughout the tour our guide would offer a behind-the-scenes story along with an original recording. It was pretty awesome. R took enough photos for us to recreate the studio back home in a diorama and, again, we left with postcards, stickers abound.
Now we get to the Bar-B-Que. We hit up Central BBQ - slow roasted southern mesquite. We ordered a rack for two with half wet and half dry and four (yes 4) sides. It was messy, succulent and delicious. We both preferred the dry (so that we can dip in our own sauces), but I have to admit that The Salt Lick still took the cake (or the charcoal?). Though Central, if you are ever in Memphis, should definitely be hit up.
In an attempt to walk off our constant fullness we headed to Beale street, which was much like Bourbon street - a once cool street with loads of history that is now overrun by the opportunity to get waisted. We strolled through and into the historic district and saw, but were not able to go in, the National Civil Rights Museum. This was amazing and we so regret missing its open hours. The building was created with the Lorraine Motel, which is where MLK was shot. Outside his motel room (room 306) is a flower memorial and two amazing classic cars from the 60s (we weren't sure if they were his or just for show). It was a scene filled with pregnant pause; you cannot help but look at this building and think of all that rich history steeped in strong convictions and laced with mourning and hope. It really was cool.
Returning to Beale street with the blinking lights and rowdy crowds (though there was some good street music) R & I couldn't help but feel a sadness - something like looking at and knowing of a city that has such a great history and bore such incredible people and events but has had to sell itself out in some ways to the masses. But, no matter what, Memphis really impressed us both. There is a ton of great and interesting things to see that definitely overrule the toursita nature of the contemporary city. So go try it out, if you have the time or means.
This morning, once again up and at 'em. Off to Nashville, where we hit a new low: eating fried chicken before 11 a.m. R did some research and one of the places to eat in Nashville is a little meat-ery called Arnolds, rated 'Best meat 'n 3' by some unknown source. For those Nor' Easterners, this means you choose a meat (friend chicken, roast beef, et al) and three sides. We both had fried chicken, collard greens, green beans, mac & cheese and a side salad (that was extra, but we were desperate).
As food was the priority, we found ourselves pressed for time to see the city at all. We hit up the lobby and the gift shop of the Country Music Hall of Fame and Broadway where we found the Honkey Tonks, Hatch Show Print and a few record stores. We glanced and strolled just a bit and head back to the car. Which is where you'll find us now.
We are just a few hours away from R's parent's home in Big Stone Gap, VA. We don't even need to reference directions any longer as R recognizes the highways and knows his way home from here. I guess this means we're nearly done! I cannot believe it.
Tonight, we will dine on the best Indian food ever (provided by Mrs. Saha) and sleep away the hours in the car. Tomorrow we hope to get a little run in, eat some more and then head to DC.
One may notice that the latter part of our trip has seemed like a tour of Southern cuisine. We couldn't help it. The food in the south was some of the best and most regionally unique that we've had. It seemed the best way to get to know those cities and states. But as we creep into the North East I think our tour of food will come to an end, which is really a relief as our vacation clothes are getting a little tight and we're too broke to purchase anything new.
Time for a detox, but first some chicken curry.
Image highlights
The cars outside of the National Civil Rights Museum (hot, right?)
A young Elvis (hello, lover)
Not that doing so is the easiest or, rather, cheapest. You have to pay $8 for parking and a hot $27 for the basic mansion tour (audio equipment included). I won't deny my vague attraction to 'The King' mostly for his intrinsic connection to a certain era and a lot of ephemera, but this seemed a bit much.
Let me say this, my friends, the expense, the time, the drive - it is all worth it.
With the purr of an NPR-voiced narrator guiding me from the twin peacock glass windows in the living room to the endearingly gaudy meditation garden at the end, I got to know Elvis (the PG-rated version). There's his late 70's decorating style (each room had a theme), his truly ridiculous stage outfits (who brought Elvis and the jumpsuit together?), and his still-down-home-persistence. His parents and grandmother lived with him and he gave money to charities that run the gamut (girl scouts to old folks homes). He's huge, absurd, talented and in his best years, a genuine cutie-pants. So I walked through his estate, lived Elvis, loved Elvis and, at the end, mourned Elvis. I might have been a little teary-eyed, which I made up for by purchasing armfuls of Elvis paraphernalia. I am a sucker, I'll admit it, but this tour was definitely a highlight.
On to Bar-B-Que. No, I'm jumping ahead. We went to Sun Studios next (Stax was closed) and got a very entertaining guided tour through the recording studio's early history - Howlin' Wolf, Carl Perkins, Johnny Cash, Roy Orbison and, of course, Elvis Presley. Throughout the tour our guide would offer a behind-the-scenes story along with an original recording. It was pretty awesome. R took enough photos for us to recreate the studio back home in a diorama and, again, we left with postcards, stickers abound.
Now we get to the Bar-B-Que. We hit up Central BBQ - slow roasted southern mesquite. We ordered a rack for two with half wet and half dry and four (yes 4) sides. It was messy, succulent and delicious. We both preferred the dry (so that we can dip in our own sauces), but I have to admit that The Salt Lick still took the cake (or the charcoal?). Though Central, if you are ever in Memphis, should definitely be hit up.
In an attempt to walk off our constant fullness we headed to Beale street, which was much like Bourbon street - a once cool street with loads of history that is now overrun by the opportunity to get waisted. We strolled through and into the historic district and saw, but were not able to go in, the National Civil Rights Museum. This was amazing and we so regret missing its open hours. The building was created with the Lorraine Motel, which is where MLK was shot. Outside his motel room (room 306) is a flower memorial and two amazing classic cars from the 60s (we weren't sure if they were his or just for show). It was a scene filled with pregnant pause; you cannot help but look at this building and think of all that rich history steeped in strong convictions and laced with mourning and hope. It really was cool.
Returning to Beale street with the blinking lights and rowdy crowds (though there was some good street music) R & I couldn't help but feel a sadness - something like looking at and knowing of a city that has such a great history and bore such incredible people and events but has had to sell itself out in some ways to the masses. But, no matter what, Memphis really impressed us both. There is a ton of great and interesting things to see that definitely overrule the toursita nature of the contemporary city. So go try it out, if you have the time or means.
This morning, once again up and at 'em. Off to Nashville, where we hit a new low: eating fried chicken before 11 a.m. R did some research and one of the places to eat in Nashville is a little meat-ery called Arnolds, rated 'Best meat 'n 3' by some unknown source. For those Nor' Easterners, this means you choose a meat (friend chicken, roast beef, et al) and three sides. We both had fried chicken, collard greens, green beans, mac & cheese and a side salad (that was extra, but we were desperate).
As food was the priority, we found ourselves pressed for time to see the city at all. We hit up the lobby and the gift shop of the Country Music Hall of Fame and Broadway where we found the Honkey Tonks, Hatch Show Print and a few record stores. We glanced and strolled just a bit and head back to the car. Which is where you'll find us now.
We are just a few hours away from R's parent's home in Big Stone Gap, VA. We don't even need to reference directions any longer as R recognizes the highways and knows his way home from here. I guess this means we're nearly done! I cannot believe it.
Tonight, we will dine on the best Indian food ever (provided by Mrs. Saha) and sleep away the hours in the car. Tomorrow we hope to get a little run in, eat some more and then head to DC.
One may notice that the latter part of our trip has seemed like a tour of Southern cuisine. We couldn't help it. The food in the south was some of the best and most regionally unique that we've had. It seemed the best way to get to know those cities and states. But as we creep into the North East I think our tour of food will come to an end, which is really a relief as our vacation clothes are getting a little tight and we're too broke to purchase anything new.
Time for a detox, but first some chicken curry.
Image highlights
The cars outside of the National Civil Rights Museum (hot, right?)
A young Elvis (hello, lover)
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Eating New Orleans
N'awlins. We high-tailed it out of Austin and arrived in the city on the water around 2pm, giving us a hefty amount of time to get to know the place.
We had purposely withheld any major food consumption as we had high hopes for good grub. Our lovely neighbor had spent quite a lot of time in New Orleans so we went to him first with the question, what do we do with only an evening? In response he sent us a list as long as the boot of restaurants, both casual and high end to indulge in.
Out of the car and on the streets we had our stomach set on Po' Boys. We were staying just north of the French Quarter and our neighbors suggestions seemed to be just west of that, according to the animated map we were given at check in. Note to future visitors - these maps are not drawn to scale. Coming New York we tend to assume that most cities are walk able. So we set off in the blazing and sticky 3 o'clock heat in search of a few dive restaurants. We walked about about a mile before calling the place to find out that, no, it was definitely not walkable and about 4 more miles east.
Deflated and famished, we headed back to the French Quarter, accosted a sweet-southern-accented gentleman walking a dog to find out some recommended/quick local fare. He recommended ACME and Felix's Seafood. We went with the later, ordered two Po' Boys, onion rings and drinks. They were good, not great, but then again we had plopped down in the epicenter of toursita-New Orleans. Stuffed and thinking more clearly we headed back out into the Quarter to stroll the streets. Being a Saturday it was like Las Vegas only more damp. Tons of college aged and, regrettably, middle aged, toursits happily and sloppily scarfing down the to-go drinks found on every corner. Maybe if we had more time or hadn't been eating our way through three previous states, we would have been more game to enjoy the day time drinking but as it was we were still full and a little inpatient.
Still on the look out for local good we did find Cafe Du Monde (also toursity, but endearingly so) where for just $2 you can order three freshly fried donut-type things doused in powdered sugar - beignets, I believe they're called. The street music was great, the clientele were lovely and the donuts were DE-LISH.
Next up we found our way to the St. Charles street car, as recommended for some New Orleans sightseeing. It's about 13.5 miles, according to guides, and you just sit and enjoy the gorgeous New Orleans architecture. We moved west of the Quarter through residential areas and then through the campuses of Loyola and Tulane. Some of the residential houses were just amazing - tall and slender windows and sweeping porches. Swoon. I half expected to come across the Real World New Orleans house, but only roudy college students hanging off of second-story balconies - a close second.
Dinner was redemption. Finally realizing that New Orleans may just be a driving city we returned to our hotel to shower and primp, got in our car and headed out (down? over? I'm not entirely sure where it was located) to Pascal's Manale, a hot spot recommended by our neighbor. it boasted the original and best grilled shrimp so we ordered that up along with an appetizer of some sort of roasted seafood dip, gumbo and asparagus. It was delicious. I'm not even one for seafood but I went at the shrimp - peeling them with my bar fingers - like an animal. Their little beady eyes didn't bother me at all. Those little lifeless legs? Didn't even notice. The trail of shrimp feces? Alright that gave me pause but I pressed on and enjoyed ever minute of it. We were event bibbed in protection against all the juicy flavor. And, because it seemed to be a foodie tradition, we enjoyed some bread pudding for dinner. Also something I never thought I'd dig, but it was delicious - smothered in this brandy butter sauce that I would like to live in.
I can't say that I get New Orleans. If I ever go again I will need to do more research and get more tours, but at the close of the day with a very full and happy stomach, I'd say it was well worth the southern drive.
We're about to roll into Memphis. Passing through Memphis and into Tennessee - the states tick on as do the last of our road trip days. We're waisting no time and heading straight to Graceland. I cannot wait for all the kitch not to mention the BBQ. The eating continues.
We had purposely withheld any major food consumption as we had high hopes for good grub. Our lovely neighbor had spent quite a lot of time in New Orleans so we went to him first with the question, what do we do with only an evening? In response he sent us a list as long as the boot of restaurants, both casual and high end to indulge in.
Out of the car and on the streets we had our stomach set on Po' Boys. We were staying just north of the French Quarter and our neighbors suggestions seemed to be just west of that, according to the animated map we were given at check in. Note to future visitors - these maps are not drawn to scale. Coming New York we tend to assume that most cities are walk able. So we set off in the blazing and sticky 3 o'clock heat in search of a few dive restaurants. We walked about about a mile before calling the place to find out that, no, it was definitely not walkable and about 4 more miles east.
Deflated and famished, we headed back to the French Quarter, accosted a sweet-southern-accented gentleman walking a dog to find out some recommended/quick local fare. He recommended ACME and Felix's Seafood. We went with the later, ordered two Po' Boys, onion rings and drinks. They were good, not great, but then again we had plopped down in the epicenter of toursita-New Orleans. Stuffed and thinking more clearly we headed back out into the Quarter to stroll the streets. Being a Saturday it was like Las Vegas only more damp. Tons of college aged and, regrettably, middle aged, toursits happily and sloppily scarfing down the to-go drinks found on every corner. Maybe if we had more time or hadn't been eating our way through three previous states, we would have been more game to enjoy the day time drinking but as it was we were still full and a little inpatient.
Still on the look out for local good we did find Cafe Du Monde (also toursity, but endearingly so) where for just $2 you can order three freshly fried donut-type things doused in powdered sugar - beignets, I believe they're called. The street music was great, the clientele were lovely and the donuts were DE-LISH.
Next up we found our way to the St. Charles street car, as recommended for some New Orleans sightseeing. It's about 13.5 miles, according to guides, and you just sit and enjoy the gorgeous New Orleans architecture. We moved west of the Quarter through residential areas and then through the campuses of Loyola and Tulane. Some of the residential houses were just amazing - tall and slender windows and sweeping porches. Swoon. I half expected to come across the Real World New Orleans house, but only roudy college students hanging off of second-story balconies - a close second.
Dinner was redemption. Finally realizing that New Orleans may just be a driving city we returned to our hotel to shower and primp, got in our car and headed out (down? over? I'm not entirely sure where it was located) to Pascal's Manale, a hot spot recommended by our neighbor. it boasted the original and best grilled shrimp so we ordered that up along with an appetizer of some sort of roasted seafood dip, gumbo and asparagus. It was delicious. I'm not even one for seafood but I went at the shrimp - peeling them with my bar fingers - like an animal. Their little beady eyes didn't bother me at all. Those little lifeless legs? Didn't even notice. The trail of shrimp feces? Alright that gave me pause but I pressed on and enjoyed ever minute of it. We were event bibbed in protection against all the juicy flavor. And, because it seemed to be a foodie tradition, we enjoyed some bread pudding for dinner. Also something I never thought I'd dig, but it was delicious - smothered in this brandy butter sauce that I would like to live in.
I can't say that I get New Orleans. If I ever go again I will need to do more research and get more tours, but at the close of the day with a very full and happy stomach, I'd say it was well worth the southern drive.
We're about to roll into Memphis. Passing through Memphis and into Tennessee - the states tick on as do the last of our road trip days. We're waisting no time and heading straight to Graceland. I cannot wait for all the kitch not to mention the BBQ. The eating continues.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Austin, you have outdone yourself
We rolled into town still in the a.m. hours, which meant we had a big glorious day ahead. First we met up with Jesse and his new dog Max - really the cutest little edible munchkin I've ever seen (I'll insert a photo later - I have a ton).
After saying out goodbyes to Max we headed out and into the scorching city. First stop - sustenance. Jesse brought us to a crepere that, although taking their sweet time creating these french burritos, was utterly delicious. In trying to save room for the BBQ feast that was to come, R & I only spilt a crepe and regretted it the moment we bit into the succulent savory packages. But enough about crepes.
Without waiting the prerequisite 30 minutes for digestion, we made our way to Barton Springs, this amazing water hole in the middle of downtown Austin. It stays 68 degrees all year round and considering the thick humid August air, it was the perfect temperature. We frolicked, floated, slipped on the mossy floor and baked in the sun.
Sufficiently soaked, Jesse then took us to his neighborhood where antique and vintage stores are only outnumbered by the tattooed pedestrians that walk in and out of them. To start us off properly we all split a red velvet cupcake from Hey Cupcake! The second airstream outdoor eatery stop in our 12 hour stay. It was moist and sweet and delicious. With sugar amping us up we took in the neighborhood, the people, and the cute boutiques.
Though the sightseeing was nice, dinner loomed over us. It was only 4 pm by the time we made it down and around the streets, but we decided that we had to get serious and serious meant getting ourselves out to this BBQ place I had heard so much about - The Salt Lick. To further prove it's righteousness in the ways of Texas BBQ it was a little out of the way and only accessible by rush-hour clogged super highways. We had to suffer a little, of course, before we got there. An off duty sheriff greeted us at the parking lot and three more languidly showed us to a spot. We were pretty early for a Friday night meal so we didn't have to wait for a table - a little out of the norm, as I understand it.
The moment you step into the dark mess hall of a restaurant you are confronted by the sweet smokey smell of BBQ. We sat, grunted our order (4 family style - the only way to go) and were presented with a feast of kings within minutes.
It was, dare I say, the best meal I have ever had. Ribs, brisket, some sausage (though it paled in comparison to its meaty friends), cole slaw, potatoes and other things that I couldn't really notice over my saucy hands. Oh did we consume. The meat just fell right off the bone and the moment we seemed to be getting low on any of the options, the heaving plate was replenished with barely a wave of the hand. It's a BYOB restaurant but who can pay attention to wine when you have such a presentation? To top off the meat and sides there was their signature Habanero sauce that had the perfect mixture of heat and sweet. I had to have it.
We payed for our meal and squeezed our satiated selves out of the long wooden benched seats. On the way out I looked around at the cashier desk for the sauce that still lingered in my mouth and found, to my utter surprise that it was called "Lauren's Spicy Recipe Bar-B-Que Sauce." Can you even believe it! We had been to so many truck stops and souvenier venues that I just assumed they personalized all of their sauce bottles like a sticker, pencil, or zipper pull for added toursit value. But, no. This was the name and I knew it was true love.
It's hard to follow a gestational activity like that but we made our way back to Austin and had a drink at a very sheek modern design friendly hotel. And just when I thought I had really consumed all that I could in the city, we came across Amy's ice Cream and how could I say no? I had Mexican vanilla and dark chocolate, R had Mexican vanilla and strawberry - it was phenomenal!
After that there was really nothing else to do but go home and digest, watch a little of the Olympics and pass out every so happily.
We were up with the dawn and heading East to New Orleans. I am very excited about this next destination. More awesome food, some music and who knows what else. I don't know if anything can beat my meal at the Salt Lick but I'm certainly willing to give it a try.
Because I talked it up so much, let me share a photo of the meatfest that was The Salt Lick*
*This blog is not responsible for any technical malfunctions that may occur as a result of uncontrolled drooling
After saying out goodbyes to Max we headed out and into the scorching city. First stop - sustenance. Jesse brought us to a crepere that, although taking their sweet time creating these french burritos, was utterly delicious. In trying to save room for the BBQ feast that was to come, R & I only spilt a crepe and regretted it the moment we bit into the succulent savory packages. But enough about crepes.
Without waiting the prerequisite 30 minutes for digestion, we made our way to Barton Springs, this amazing water hole in the middle of downtown Austin. It stays 68 degrees all year round and considering the thick humid August air, it was the perfect temperature. We frolicked, floated, slipped on the mossy floor and baked in the sun.
Sufficiently soaked, Jesse then took us to his neighborhood where antique and vintage stores are only outnumbered by the tattooed pedestrians that walk in and out of them. To start us off properly we all split a red velvet cupcake from Hey Cupcake! The second airstream outdoor eatery stop in our 12 hour stay. It was moist and sweet and delicious. With sugar amping us up we took in the neighborhood, the people, and the cute boutiques.
Though the sightseeing was nice, dinner loomed over us. It was only 4 pm by the time we made it down and around the streets, but we decided that we had to get serious and serious meant getting ourselves out to this BBQ place I had heard so much about - The Salt Lick. To further prove it's righteousness in the ways of Texas BBQ it was a little out of the way and only accessible by rush-hour clogged super highways. We had to suffer a little, of course, before we got there. An off duty sheriff greeted us at the parking lot and three more languidly showed us to a spot. We were pretty early for a Friday night meal so we didn't have to wait for a table - a little out of the norm, as I understand it.
The moment you step into the dark mess hall of a restaurant you are confronted by the sweet smokey smell of BBQ. We sat, grunted our order (4 family style - the only way to go) and were presented with a feast of kings within minutes.
It was, dare I say, the best meal I have ever had. Ribs, brisket, some sausage (though it paled in comparison to its meaty friends), cole slaw, potatoes and other things that I couldn't really notice over my saucy hands. Oh did we consume. The meat just fell right off the bone and the moment we seemed to be getting low on any of the options, the heaving plate was replenished with barely a wave of the hand. It's a BYOB restaurant but who can pay attention to wine when you have such a presentation? To top off the meat and sides there was their signature Habanero sauce that had the perfect mixture of heat and sweet. I had to have it.
We payed for our meal and squeezed our satiated selves out of the long wooden benched seats. On the way out I looked around at the cashier desk for the sauce that still lingered in my mouth and found, to my utter surprise that it was called "Lauren's Spicy Recipe Bar-B-Que Sauce." Can you even believe it! We had been to so many truck stops and souvenier venues that I just assumed they personalized all of their sauce bottles like a sticker, pencil, or zipper pull for added toursit value. But, no. This was the name and I knew it was true love.
It's hard to follow a gestational activity like that but we made our way back to Austin and had a drink at a very sheek modern design friendly hotel. And just when I thought I had really consumed all that I could in the city, we came across Amy's ice Cream and how could I say no? I had Mexican vanilla and dark chocolate, R had Mexican vanilla and strawberry - it was phenomenal!
After that there was really nothing else to do but go home and digest, watch a little of the Olympics and pass out every so happily.
We were up with the dawn and heading East to New Orleans. I am very excited about this next destination. More awesome food, some music and who knows what else. I don't know if anything can beat my meal at the Salt Lick but I'm certainly willing to give it a try.
Because I talked it up so much, let me share a photo of the meatfest that was The Salt Lick*
*This blog is not responsible for any technical malfunctions that may occur as a result of uncontrolled drooling
Friday, August 22, 2008
Lean southern dining
Where were we? Ah, yes. Santa Fe.
We made good time huffing it down to the New Mexico capital. Our host for our 12 hour stay, Veronica, saddled up to our pace and waisted no time getting us out to the Santa Fe plaza. Santa Fe looks just as I had imagined - quaint, desert-camouflaged town selling equal amounts of turquoise and chili.
We did the Santa Fe-night right with drinks at the Coyote Cafe, delighting in a hot pink prickly pear margarita, followed by more margaritas and a chili-blanketed Mexican meal at the local eatery, The Shed. The chili there is no joke. We tested out the home-grown Sante Fe green chili stew as an opener to their indiginous spice. A local staple, the green chili stew was SO tasty, surprsingly so, that it was gone before the cup cooled. In case you're chili-curious, it boils down to two options - there's the red (dried, smoked) and the green ('raw') and then there's Christmas (a mix of the two). As I can't order on my own accord, I followed Veronica's lead and tested out the Christmas mix. The red was a sucker punch to my amateur New England taste buds, but the green, as with the stew, was just the right amount of heat, taste and sweetness. I'm hooked.
By morning, nursing a bit of a margarita hangover, we went back into town for more burritos and chili and a quick walk around in day light. As recommended by Veronica we ate at the Tia Sophia and had the best breakfast burrito - it's true - ever. Smothered in cheese and green chili there's no doubt that there was a party in my mouth and everyone was invited.
Oh, there was some culture too. We sped in and around the Georgia O'Keefe museum, tried on a cowboy hat or two, bought some smoked green chili salsa, fondled some Indian jewelry and hopped back in the car.
The trip from Santa Fe to Austin is long so we spent a 'Friday Night Lights' evening in Abilene, TX. Prior to our eight o'clock arrival I checked out some local websites for restaurant recommendations. When most sites offer up between 3 and 5 stars to buffet joints, I couldn't help but worry about what we would find. We settled on Alfredo's Mexican - an authentic hole in the wall that was delicious. We inhaled a few burritos and Dr. Pepper and flew to make a 9:50 showing of Pineapple Express (you can see where our priorities are). God it was stupid. But, considering a meal of fancy take out and a teenage-boy movie pick, it really seemed a quintessential night in Abilene.
I sense that from my first burrito in Santa Fe on out, that the rest of our trip will be a big 'ol meat fest and I welcome it with an open tum. We're a mere few hours away from our destination and looking forward to a frolic in a river and then (drum roll please) some AWEsome BBQ at The Salt Lick, as recommended by everyone who has touched Austin soil. I'm salivating just thinking about it.
We're only in Austin for a night, which seems scandalous I know, but we're on a mission and time is winding down (tear). Try to keep up.
Image closer: a shot of a Santa Fe street (that we totally walked down) and the central Cathedral
We made good time huffing it down to the New Mexico capital. Our host for our 12 hour stay, Veronica, saddled up to our pace and waisted no time getting us out to the Santa Fe plaza. Santa Fe looks just as I had imagined - quaint, desert-camouflaged town selling equal amounts of turquoise and chili.
We did the Santa Fe-night right with drinks at the Coyote Cafe, delighting in a hot pink prickly pear margarita, followed by more margaritas and a chili-blanketed Mexican meal at the local eatery, The Shed. The chili there is no joke. We tested out the home-grown Sante Fe green chili stew as an opener to their indiginous spice. A local staple, the green chili stew was SO tasty, surprsingly so, that it was gone before the cup cooled. In case you're chili-curious, it boils down to two options - there's the red (dried, smoked) and the green ('raw') and then there's Christmas (a mix of the two). As I can't order on my own accord, I followed Veronica's lead and tested out the Christmas mix. The red was a sucker punch to my amateur New England taste buds, but the green, as with the stew, was just the right amount of heat, taste and sweetness. I'm hooked.
By morning, nursing a bit of a margarita hangover, we went back into town for more burritos and chili and a quick walk around in day light. As recommended by Veronica we ate at the Tia Sophia and had the best breakfast burrito - it's true - ever. Smothered in cheese and green chili there's no doubt that there was a party in my mouth and everyone was invited.
Oh, there was some culture too. We sped in and around the Georgia O'Keefe museum, tried on a cowboy hat or two, bought some smoked green chili salsa, fondled some Indian jewelry and hopped back in the car.
The trip from Santa Fe to Austin is long so we spent a 'Friday Night Lights' evening in Abilene, TX. Prior to our eight o'clock arrival I checked out some local websites for restaurant recommendations. When most sites offer up between 3 and 5 stars to buffet joints, I couldn't help but worry about what we would find. We settled on Alfredo's Mexican - an authentic hole in the wall that was delicious. We inhaled a few burritos and Dr. Pepper and flew to make a 9:50 showing of Pineapple Express (you can see where our priorities are). God it was stupid. But, considering a meal of fancy take out and a teenage-boy movie pick, it really seemed a quintessential night in Abilene.
I sense that from my first burrito in Santa Fe on out, that the rest of our trip will be a big 'ol meat fest and I welcome it with an open tum. We're a mere few hours away from our destination and looking forward to a frolic in a river and then (drum roll please) some AWEsome BBQ at The Salt Lick, as recommended by everyone who has touched Austin soil. I'm salivating just thinking about it.
We're only in Austin for a night, which seems scandalous I know, but we're on a mission and time is winding down (tear). Try to keep up.
Image closer: a shot of a Santa Fe street (that we totally walked down) and the central Cathedral
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
All the desert has to offer
We left the serenity of San Clemente and plowed right into the gaudy chaos of Las Vegas.
The best thing about Las Vegas was that The Hard Rock Hotel upgraded us to a suite. Indeed. The moment I stepped into the leather-walled, red velvet-curtained room I knew that the Hard Rock saw what was budding inside me all along - a badass mother-f*%@ker. When I strutted past the floor-to-ceiling decaled mirrors it might as well have been Slash looking back at me, which, considering the uncleanliness and length of my hair, is not actually that shocking.
Not to sound old, but Las Vegas was a little too much for me to handle. We ate, we walked, we milled around the slots trying to score free booze from scantily clad waitresses (did not pan out) and then passed out happily in our NYC apartment-sized bed.
Upon daybreak and with a taste for anthropological sightseeing R & I headed to Fremont Street, or the old Las Vegas strip. This was the underbelly, the grit and the original Vegas, but after parking in the new multi-level lot and walking under a mile-long canopy meant to block the glaring Nevada Sun we found that the Fremont Street of yesteryear was no longer. Nope. It has more than one Starbucks - need I say more?
Off to Zion we said - free of the lights and crowds we faced the loss of an hour as we head East with big hopes and slightly sleepy eyes. And Zion was BEE. U. TIF. FUL. The Tetons were incredible and majestic, but Zion is like nothing I've ever seen. A blue blue sky set against these red rocks that roll for miles. We walked the narrows, which is the best hike ever as it winds and bends with the canyons through a river of crystal clear water. We made it back to our camp sight just before sunset and prepared ourselves for a night of camping bliss. As we were still out of tent poles we had to purchase a new tent back in San Clemente and what we found was the Rolls Royce of tents: sleeps four, shoe door to keep away the wet stuff, rain net, and inside pockets for the odds and ends. We could nearly stand in it!
And then mother nature stepped in. Just after midnight this wind storm blew threw and took our fortress of water-resistant tarp with it. We rocked and rolled with these gail-force gusts and were kept up all the live long night contemplating when this weirdness might end. It didn't. We're pooped.
But no time to dwell! With 16 ounces of coffee in our systems we crossed over 500 miles south to Santa Fe where we will spend one splendid night with a former Kenyonite. She's promising 'the best margaritas' ever. Swoon.
To end: other people enjoying The Narrows at Zion
The best thing about Las Vegas was that The Hard Rock Hotel upgraded us to a suite. Indeed. The moment I stepped into the leather-walled, red velvet-curtained room I knew that the Hard Rock saw what was budding inside me all along - a badass mother-f*%@ker. When I strutted past the floor-to-ceiling decaled mirrors it might as well have been Slash looking back at me, which, considering the uncleanliness and length of my hair, is not actually that shocking.
Not to sound old, but Las Vegas was a little too much for me to handle. We ate, we walked, we milled around the slots trying to score free booze from scantily clad waitresses (did not pan out) and then passed out happily in our NYC apartment-sized bed.
Upon daybreak and with a taste for anthropological sightseeing R & I headed to Fremont Street, or the old Las Vegas strip. This was the underbelly, the grit and the original Vegas, but after parking in the new multi-level lot and walking under a mile-long canopy meant to block the glaring Nevada Sun we found that the Fremont Street of yesteryear was no longer. Nope. It has more than one Starbucks - need I say more?
Off to Zion we said - free of the lights and crowds we faced the loss of an hour as we head East with big hopes and slightly sleepy eyes. And Zion was BEE. U. TIF. FUL. The Tetons were incredible and majestic, but Zion is like nothing I've ever seen. A blue blue sky set against these red rocks that roll for miles. We walked the narrows, which is the best hike ever as it winds and bends with the canyons through a river of crystal clear water. We made it back to our camp sight just before sunset and prepared ourselves for a night of camping bliss. As we were still out of tent poles we had to purchase a new tent back in San Clemente and what we found was the Rolls Royce of tents: sleeps four, shoe door to keep away the wet stuff, rain net, and inside pockets for the odds and ends. We could nearly stand in it!
And then mother nature stepped in. Just after midnight this wind storm blew threw and took our fortress of water-resistant tarp with it. We rocked and rolled with these gail-force gusts and were kept up all the live long night contemplating when this weirdness might end. It didn't. We're pooped.
But no time to dwell! With 16 ounces of coffee in our systems we crossed over 500 miles south to Santa Fe where we will spend one splendid night with a former Kenyonite. She's promising 'the best margaritas' ever. Swoon.
To end: other people enjoying The Narrows at Zion
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Eating our way down the California coast
A bit of a delay over here, but we're in the thick of SoCal and, in an attempt to blend in, are taking it slow.
But of course, not slow enough. We've seen the whole state in a matter of days. It is big, beautiful, foggy, hot and perfect - not all in that order.
How do you see a city like San Francisco when you have only one day? Extreme sightseeing.
Strap on your fanny packs, buckle those cameras onto your belt, tie a sweatshirt around your neck and head to Fisherman's Wharf. SF's answer to Times Square. It is seething with tourists and we blended in nicely, buying two tickets to the gray line San Francisco trolley tour. Yes, a trolley tour. Two and a half hours of sight-seeing bliss with Richard, our guide. It was great, it was lazy, it was freezing. We saw all the major sights: Presidio, the Golden Gate, all the beautiful houses and multiple neighborhoods.
Fresh off of the trolley and nearly locals we headed to North Beach for some authentic (read: massive) Italian subs. Still chewing the nub of crust from the sandwich we moved right into City Lights Books to see what all the fuss was about. Across the street we had some bubbly at Vesuvio and were bouncing out and into the China Town district just as soon as you could say Alan Ginsberg. Moving on to the Mission district we stopped into Petez Coffee for a personalized cuppa joe and then stepped into this delightful shop owned by former Brooklynites Derek & Lauren called The Curiosity Shoppe (check it out). Dinner was delicous at Ramblas - small plates, strong sangria and crazy good fresh-fried churros and warm chocolate dipping sauce (drool).
Quick to bed and early to rise R and I were back on the road heading down the long, windy and fog-stricken Route 1. Destination: Big Sur Bakery. Late brunch on a Saturday morning, but well worth the slightly nauseating trip - avocado and bacon omelet, white and black bean soup and a chocolate chip cookie that would make you weak in the knees.
Back on the 1 for some digestive scenery. I want to romanticize it, but honestly said picturesque-ness could not have moved along fast enough. Hours passed and we were still hanging on for dear life over death-defying cliffs with indifferent guard rails. I couldn't have been happier to see the highway - sweet, plain, speedy highway.
I won't go into the details of the later half of our trip down the coast of California but let me say this - it takes WAY longer than you think. Besides a quick and heavenly stop in Santa Barbara for some of the most authentic and awesome street Mexican food and a Jared Leto sighting (yes! Thankfully looking much more like Jordan Catalano than the weirdo in the band he thinks he's fronting) I don't think R or I would have made it down without ripping each others heads off.
Needless to say we were deliriously pleased to land at the wonderful home of my Aunt and Uncle who showed us a fantastically relaxing time in this low key, laid back place called San Clemente. The pace is much slower and I can dig. Today we spent a splendid day at the beach and just consumed a restaurant-worthy meal of California fare. Fabulous. I'm stuffed.
Tonight it's early to bed but not so quick to rise (we're still in S. Cali, after all). Tomorrow we will catch a few rays to hopefully even out my 'tan' and then head back 'round again. Back east via Las Vegas (among others) - I look forward to some desert kitch, good food, photo opps, fake Elvises and maybe, just maybe, a little bit 'o luck at the tables. And by tables I mean slots, and by slots I mean the keep-sake penny machines - you know the one where you drop a penny in and it comes out flattened and imprinted with the Eiffel tower/Brooklyn Bridge/Mount Rushmore on it? What can I say, I can't break the habit.
To close: an enviable photo of the San Clemente pier at sunset
TTFN
~L & R
But of course, not slow enough. We've seen the whole state in a matter of days. It is big, beautiful, foggy, hot and perfect - not all in that order.
How do you see a city like San Francisco when you have only one day? Extreme sightseeing.
Strap on your fanny packs, buckle those cameras onto your belt, tie a sweatshirt around your neck and head to Fisherman's Wharf. SF's answer to Times Square. It is seething with tourists and we blended in nicely, buying two tickets to the gray line San Francisco trolley tour. Yes, a trolley tour. Two and a half hours of sight-seeing bliss with Richard, our guide. It was great, it was lazy, it was freezing. We saw all the major sights: Presidio, the Golden Gate, all the beautiful houses and multiple neighborhoods.
Fresh off of the trolley and nearly locals we headed to North Beach for some authentic (read: massive) Italian subs. Still chewing the nub of crust from the sandwich we moved right into City Lights Books to see what all the fuss was about. Across the street we had some bubbly at Vesuvio and were bouncing out and into the China Town district just as soon as you could say Alan Ginsberg. Moving on to the Mission district we stopped into Petez Coffee for a personalized cuppa joe and then stepped into this delightful shop owned by former Brooklynites Derek & Lauren called The Curiosity Shoppe (check it out). Dinner was delicous at Ramblas - small plates, strong sangria and crazy good fresh-fried churros and warm chocolate dipping sauce (drool).
Quick to bed and early to rise R and I were back on the road heading down the long, windy and fog-stricken Route 1. Destination: Big Sur Bakery. Late brunch on a Saturday morning, but well worth the slightly nauseating trip - avocado and bacon omelet, white and black bean soup and a chocolate chip cookie that would make you weak in the knees.
Back on the 1 for some digestive scenery. I want to romanticize it, but honestly said picturesque-ness could not have moved along fast enough. Hours passed and we were still hanging on for dear life over death-defying cliffs with indifferent guard rails. I couldn't have been happier to see the highway - sweet, plain, speedy highway.
I won't go into the details of the later half of our trip down the coast of California but let me say this - it takes WAY longer than you think. Besides a quick and heavenly stop in Santa Barbara for some of the most authentic and awesome street Mexican food and a Jared Leto sighting (yes! Thankfully looking much more like Jordan Catalano than the weirdo in the band he thinks he's fronting) I don't think R or I would have made it down without ripping each others heads off.
Needless to say we were deliriously pleased to land at the wonderful home of my Aunt and Uncle who showed us a fantastically relaxing time in this low key, laid back place called San Clemente. The pace is much slower and I can dig. Today we spent a splendid day at the beach and just consumed a restaurant-worthy meal of California fare. Fabulous. I'm stuffed.
Tonight it's early to bed but not so quick to rise (we're still in S. Cali, after all). Tomorrow we will catch a few rays to hopefully even out my 'tan' and then head back 'round again. Back east via Las Vegas (among others) - I look forward to some desert kitch, good food, photo opps, fake Elvises and maybe, just maybe, a little bit 'o luck at the tables. And by tables I mean slots, and by slots I mean the keep-sake penny machines - you know the one where you drop a penny in and it comes out flattened and imprinted with the Eiffel tower/Brooklyn Bridge/Mount Rushmore on it? What can I say, I can't break the habit.
To close: an enviable photo of the San Clemente pier at sunset
TTFN
~L & R
Thursday, August 14, 2008
California, where have you been?!
I LOVE this state.
We first crossed into California early yesterday morning and were once again blown away by what the west has to offer. The Redwoods are apparently the tallest trees in the world and, yes they live up to their reputation.
We parked, loaded our gear and headed into the woods for some backpacking. Serious stuff. Camping, I've realized, comes with small successes and failures. For example:
We succeeded in hiking the 4.5 mile path to the coastal campground, but failed to get there early enough to actually claim an area. But it wasn't a complete loss, as we ended up sharing a site with a father-son duo who were lovely and our new camping best friends.
Though we failed to pack our tent poles after our night in the Badlands, R succeeded in Macgyvering something resembling poles out of "camping gear" we found in the local Walmart.
The tent may have failed to stand upright, but we succeeded in getting into the tent for a few hours of sleep.
And of course, we did succeed in not being eaten by bears or mountain lions. Good stuff.
We huffed it back down the mountain trail this morning and hopped back in the car (because we can't get enough) for a drive down the 101.
As it is our theme to stay in each place/city/state for just a day or so, it makes sense that what would be an afternoon visit in the wine country north of San Francisco was, for us, a 15 minute stop-by at Summers Winery. We pulled into their sun-drenched parking lot a mere 12 minutes before they were set to close, but made it just in time to spend a pretty penny on some delicious wines.
Back in the car and after a very foggy introduction to this fabulous city, we have arrived at our destination - an A.DOR.ABLE apartment on loan to us while our friends are visiting Chicago (thank you James and Shari!).
Tonight we're off to indulge in some Pacific coast fare and then get to bed - this camping guru is pooped.
Some highlights from someone else's Redwoods backpacking vacation:
Standing beneath the very tall redwood trees
The foggy but still splendid pacific coast
~L & R
We first crossed into California early yesterday morning and were once again blown away by what the west has to offer. The Redwoods are apparently the tallest trees in the world and, yes they live up to their reputation.
We parked, loaded our gear and headed into the woods for some backpacking. Serious stuff. Camping, I've realized, comes with small successes and failures. For example:
We succeeded in hiking the 4.5 mile path to the coastal campground, but failed to get there early enough to actually claim an area. But it wasn't a complete loss, as we ended up sharing a site with a father-son duo who were lovely and our new camping best friends.
Though we failed to pack our tent poles after our night in the Badlands, R succeeded in Macgyvering something resembling poles out of "camping gear" we found in the local Walmart.
The tent may have failed to stand upright, but we succeeded in getting into the tent for a few hours of sleep.
And of course, we did succeed in not being eaten by bears or mountain lions. Good stuff.
We huffed it back down the mountain trail this morning and hopped back in the car (because we can't get enough) for a drive down the 101.
As it is our theme to stay in each place/city/state for just a day or so, it makes sense that what would be an afternoon visit in the wine country north of San Francisco was, for us, a 15 minute stop-by at Summers Winery. We pulled into their sun-drenched parking lot a mere 12 minutes before they were set to close, but made it just in time to spend a pretty penny on some delicious wines.
Back in the car and after a very foggy introduction to this fabulous city, we have arrived at our destination - an A.DOR.ABLE apartment on loan to us while our friends are visiting Chicago (thank you James and Shari!).
Tonight we're off to indulge in some Pacific coast fare and then get to bed - this camping guru is pooped.
Some highlights from someone else's Redwoods backpacking vacation:
Standing beneath the very tall redwood trees
The foggy but still splendid pacific coast
~L & R
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Camping in the CA Redwoods: yes this tree is bigger than my pack
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Float on...
This nomadic life continues. We were in and out of Portland in a day, but let me say that it was a fantastic 24 hours. Portland was totally new to R & I and it was incredibly appealing. Not only was the city accessible in size and the type of people it draws, but also in the essence of the city - built not on corporations but on independently-owned businesses.
As I mentioned before, we saw the city by bike - up and down and across the river and back. Throughout that journey we were took witness to hundreds of small boutique shops, stalls and restaurants in every quadrant of the city. We caught with friends from Kenyon, who are not only doing very cool things but the majority of them have started their own ventures. There's Abby who just started her own business in Portland called Your Natural Chef. Then there's Pat who is creating fabulous t shirts sold online and Tim started a dinner and alcohol-pairing series, which has really taken off.
It's all very impressive and inspirational, even. Suddenly, while strolling into a super quaint and adorable antique store I see myself creating a new line of hand-sewn bandannas, or photographing street signs for some sort of hilarious series of pins, no, stamps. I'm doing a lot so long as I stay in Portland.
But we don't, so I'm not. We've got places to go and more people to mooch off of, so my new endeavors will have to wait (though I'll let you know when those crocheted bandannas hit the market, no need to hold your breath).
But onwards an upwards. R & I drove an incredibly quick four hours down to the crazy cute town of Shady Creek, OR. We arrived just in time to catch a trip up to the head of the river so that we may 'funyak' down to the bottom. Three hours of lazy, sun-drenched bliss. It was delightful. Only delayed slightly because everyone in this town is incredibly, incredibly high, but when you have no agenda, that affliction is suddenly, surprisingly endearing.
After our epic river float we met up with R's friend Jason who works for the Forest Services here in Oregon - yes he's like fighting forest fires. We bbq-d by the river and watched the meteor shower. It's a pretty ridiculous visit. I cannot believe where we are right now and I have to type fast and get back out to watch the rest of the star-works.
Tomorrow we're off to the Redwoods for some camping. The fact that we left the tent poles back in the Badlands is really only a hiccup - I'm sure my time in Portland had a subconscious-talent-enducting effect and within the three hour drive down I will have fashioned new tent poles out of masking tape and a string bikini.
Stay tuned...
~ L & R
As I mentioned before, we saw the city by bike - up and down and across the river and back. Throughout that journey we were took witness to hundreds of small boutique shops, stalls and restaurants in every quadrant of the city. We caught with friends from Kenyon, who are not only doing very cool things but the majority of them have started their own ventures. There's Abby who just started her own business in Portland called Your Natural Chef. Then there's Pat who is creating fabulous t shirts sold online and Tim started a dinner and alcohol-pairing series, which has really taken off.
It's all very impressive and inspirational, even. Suddenly, while strolling into a super quaint and adorable antique store I see myself creating a new line of hand-sewn bandannas, or photographing street signs for some sort of hilarious series of pins, no, stamps. I'm doing a lot so long as I stay in Portland.
But we don't, so I'm not. We've got places to go and more people to mooch off of, so my new endeavors will have to wait (though I'll let you know when those crocheted bandannas hit the market, no need to hold your breath).
But onwards an upwards. R & I drove an incredibly quick four hours down to the crazy cute town of Shady Creek, OR. We arrived just in time to catch a trip up to the head of the river so that we may 'funyak' down to the bottom. Three hours of lazy, sun-drenched bliss. It was delightful. Only delayed slightly because everyone in this town is incredibly, incredibly high, but when you have no agenda, that affliction is suddenly, surprisingly endearing.
After our epic river float we met up with R's friend Jason who works for the Forest Services here in Oregon - yes he's like fighting forest fires. We bbq-d by the river and watched the meteor shower. It's a pretty ridiculous visit. I cannot believe where we are right now and I have to type fast and get back out to watch the rest of the star-works.
Tomorrow we're off to the Redwoods for some camping. The fact that we left the tent poles back in the Badlands is really only a hiccup - I'm sure my time in Portland had a subconscious-talent-enducting effect and within the three hour drive down I will have fashioned new tent poles out of masking tape and a string bikini.
Stay tuned...
~ L & R
Monday, August 11, 2008
Portland via bike
Today was a Portland day. We were lucky enough to borrow bikes from our hosts and hit the town. We biked over the river to the west side, hit up the very awesome Powells books, where we walked off with a half dozen that were added to R's already full pack.
Next up, we got a walking tour from a Kenyon alum, then headed back over the river to the very hip North East side for some lunch with our Kenyon host. After that it was more biking in and through all the fantastic (very Brooklyn-y) neighborhoods and then back 'home.'
Exhausted, but at least now clean, we're about to stroll back over the river - perhaps testing out the public transport - for some browsing, dinner and drinks with more Kenyon peeps, because that's how we roll.
Here's a photo of (not) R & I biking:
and here's a photo of downtown Portland, so if you put the two together, you get the general idea:
TTFN
~L & R
Next up, we got a walking tour from a Kenyon alum, then headed back over the river to the very hip North East side for some lunch with our Kenyon host. After that it was more biking in and through all the fantastic (very Brooklyn-y) neighborhoods and then back 'home.'
Exhausted, but at least now clean, we're about to stroll back over the river - perhaps testing out the public transport - for some browsing, dinner and drinks with more Kenyon peeps, because that's how we roll.
Here's a photo of (not) R & I biking:
and here's a photo of downtown Portland, so if you put the two together, you get the general idea:
TTFN
~L & R
Interstate: no longer a dirty word
Mapquesting directions - even sectionally - from East to West can be an intimidating thing. Mileage immediately piles up and the hours seem impossibly, improbably long and evil. Worst of it all is that you are inevitably stuck on some interstate highway, with numeral names like, 80, 90, 84, and the rest. How can anyone expect to get excited about that?
BUT, I am a girl of the East, where our interstates reign like cement kings over the sometimes lush natural world. What I'm realizing is that it is very different in the West. The interstate highways lay like fallen ribbon upon the mountains and along the streams and waterways. In the West there is no shortest route between point A and point B, there is only twisting and turning, meandering routes that give with the landscapes, allowing them to not only grow but entertain you. For miles and miles I found myself watching nature-tv, which I highly recommend.
Which leads us to Portland, OR - the West! We have arrived and are celebrating by taking the West a little slower. Tomorrow we have the luxury of sleeping in a little and biking around to get to know this new city. A whole day - We are excited!
My computer is still out of commission so I don't have any (awesome) photos to show you from our trip (and there are some goodies) but I'll leave this - I don't know where in the pacific northwest this is, but we could be there. You just never know...
BUT, I am a girl of the East, where our interstates reign like cement kings over the sometimes lush natural world. What I'm realizing is that it is very different in the West. The interstate highways lay like fallen ribbon upon the mountains and along the streams and waterways. In the West there is no shortest route between point A and point B, there is only twisting and turning, meandering routes that give with the landscapes, allowing them to not only grow but entertain you. For miles and miles I found myself watching nature-tv, which I highly recommend.
Which leads us to Portland, OR - the West! We have arrived and are celebrating by taking the West a little slower. Tomorrow we have the luxury of sleeping in a little and biking around to get to know this new city. A whole day - We are excited!
My computer is still out of commission so I don't have any (awesome) photos to show you from our trip (and there are some goodies) but I'll leave this - I don't know where in the pacific northwest this is, but we could be there. You just never know...
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Croakies = the good life
To break up a long drive from Jackson, WY to Portland, OR we stopped in Missoula, MT to stay with a friend of R's from high school. Missoula, like Jackson, is an outdoorsy city. Citizens and visitors are running, jumping, floating, swimming, hiking, paddling (a new term I've caught on to) and just plain 'ol enjoying life.
How does one get this lifestyle? They seem to work, income comes in, but work is not their life.
After much deliberation and on-sight research in the form of pit stops off of the highway, I believe that the gate key to this lifestyle is a little something called a Croakie. These are little elastic fabric type things that are secured to one's sunglasses and adjusted according to the activity. When one wear's one of these it says two things about their way of life: they are so active that there is an actual threat to their sunglasses falling off of their face and, two, the sunglasses are a complete necessity to this life. Without these shades they may not be able to bike down the mountain, climb up the rock face, evade something terribly dangerous while kayaking.
In my every day life I do not need a croakie - pair of croakies? Are they like pants? - when I walk to work, get on the subway, or stroll out of the office for a snack, there is no reason, apart from the angry New Yorker, that my sunglasses should be wisked from my face. This seems to be the problem. If I had a croakie perhaps I would go looking for a little more adventure.
If this croakie phenomenon continues west I may just have to jump on the band wagon.
We're about to head back on the road for a long haul out to Portland - but we gain an hour, which is pretty sweet.
~L&R
How does one get this lifestyle? They seem to work, income comes in, but work is not their life.
After much deliberation and on-sight research in the form of pit stops off of the highway, I believe that the gate key to this lifestyle is a little something called a Croakie. These are little elastic fabric type things that are secured to one's sunglasses and adjusted according to the activity. When one wear's one of these it says two things about their way of life: they are so active that there is an actual threat to their sunglasses falling off of their face and, two, the sunglasses are a complete necessity to this life. Without these shades they may not be able to bike down the mountain, climb up the rock face, evade something terribly dangerous while kayaking.
In my every day life I do not need a croakie - pair of croakies? Are they like pants? - when I walk to work, get on the subway, or stroll out of the office for a snack, there is no reason, apart from the angry New Yorker, that my sunglasses should be wisked from my face. This seems to be the problem. If I had a croakie perhaps I would go looking for a little more adventure.
If this croakie phenomenon continues west I may just have to jump on the band wagon.
We're about to head back on the road for a long haul out to Portland - but we gain an hour, which is pretty sweet.
~L&R
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Friday, August 8, 2008
Ask and you shall receive
R & I wanted some outdoor time and boy did we get it! Tim, our lovely host and wilderness guide for the day took us on a 12 mile day hike! It was amazing. The mountains continue to amaze me with their size. Yes, enormous mountain, you win, you are huge. This is Jenny Lake, which hiked around and fawned over from probably the highest teton peak (OK, not at all, but it was BIG)
We saw all sorts of animals, like pretty yellow birds, tons of chipmunks and a mouse that looked like a baby bunny. And, as we are true outdoorsmen/women living on the edge, we saw not 1 or even 2 but FOUR moose (meece?).
Now my muscles are thumping after sudden and long exercise after days of extreme atrophy. We're about to go hit up some downtown flavor and see what these Jackson Hole-ians get up to on a Friday night.
xo
L & R
We saw all sorts of animals, like pretty yellow birds, tons of chipmunks and a mouse that looked like a baby bunny. And, as we are true outdoorsmen/women living on the edge, we saw not 1 or even 2 but FOUR moose (meece?).
Now my muscles are thumping after sudden and long exercise after days of extreme atrophy. We're about to go hit up some downtown flavor and see what these Jackson Hole-ians get up to on a Friday night.
xo
L & R
Quick catch up
I may have only missed a day or two, but a lot has happened.
I'll make this quick:
I awoke on my 28th year to a dreary and dark day in Sioux Falls, SD in an equally dreary and dark motel room provided by the Rodeway Inn (though the dinner the night before at Mama Ladas was amazing - worth the trip).
Heading back on the long and expansive I-90 we were eager to have any excuse to hop off and see if our legs worked. That excuse came in the form of The Corn Palace and 1880 Town. I don't know if you are supposed to have expectations for a corn palace, but it's safe to say that this one did not quite live up to whatever hopes we could conjure up between the exit and the parking lot.
eh...
Though I did meet this fella and we had a very nice heart-to-heart.
1880 Town was advertised for miles prior and certainly lived up to its self proclaimed hype. The buildings were pulled from other places all over South Dakota resembled here and possibly used to film parts of Dances with Wolves.
Next stop off/destination was Wall Drug. The highway marketing for this place rivals but definitely surpasses those used for 1880 town. It must have been 200 miles out that the billboards started popping up - buy this, we sell that, etc etc. Wall Drug was awesome in the way that it tickled my buy-crap bone and I wanted to buy everything and anything. We had a delightful lunch, took some choice photos (L riding a Jack-a-lope, R looking frightened beneath a T-Rex), bought some fudge postcards and got on our way.
Last stop was the badlands where we walked and wondered around these strange wet sand castle formations in awe of whatever this place was.
We camped, ate dinner, played a few hands of cards and went to bed. It was the first night that we really felt like we were on the road. Waking up to the sun and enjoying some very dark coffee just sealed the deal.
The next day was a quick pit stop at Mount Rushmore - I know, one isn't supposed to rush through something like that but we had 11 hours ahead of us. It was amazing and huge and just, wow.
Eleven hours later - barring one quick stop at some mineral hot springs where we took a quick rotten-egg-smelling soak - we arrived in the stunningly beautiful Tetons national park. And here we are. The mountains just dwarf you and put you in your tiny human place. Last night we stayed in a hand-made cabin below the mountains and met some lovely people who actually live here, like year round. Every time I turned around I got a: "so I hear you're from Minnesota?" "Aren't you from Illinois?" "Oh I've got an aunt from Tennessee maybe you know her?"
Suddenly I am the every traveler and that's pretty awesome. I said yes to everything and fought the urge to introduce myself as Donna, Brenda or Kelly, because I did actually know one person there and I don't think he would have been too pleased.
So today it's hiking and swimming and canoeing. But first breakfast.
The computer did not take to my herbal remedies so it will be random updates sans photos until I can find a mobster to take it out.
More soon.
~L & R
I'll make this quick:
I awoke on my 28th year to a dreary and dark day in Sioux Falls, SD in an equally dreary and dark motel room provided by the Rodeway Inn (though the dinner the night before at Mama Ladas was amazing - worth the trip).
Heading back on the long and expansive I-90 we were eager to have any excuse to hop off and see if our legs worked. That excuse came in the form of The Corn Palace and 1880 Town. I don't know if you are supposed to have expectations for a corn palace, but it's safe to say that this one did not quite live up to whatever hopes we could conjure up between the exit and the parking lot.
eh...
Though I did meet this fella and we had a very nice heart-to-heart.
1880 Town was advertised for miles prior and certainly lived up to its self proclaimed hype. The buildings were pulled from other places all over South Dakota resembled here and possibly used to film parts of Dances with Wolves.
Next stop off/destination was Wall Drug. The highway marketing for this place rivals but definitely surpasses those used for 1880 town. It must have been 200 miles out that the billboards started popping up - buy this, we sell that, etc etc. Wall Drug was awesome in the way that it tickled my buy-crap bone and I wanted to buy everything and anything. We had a delightful lunch, took some choice photos (L riding a Jack-a-lope, R looking frightened beneath a T-Rex), bought some fudge postcards and got on our way.
Last stop was the badlands where we walked and wondered around these strange wet sand castle formations in awe of whatever this place was.
We camped, ate dinner, played a few hands of cards and went to bed. It was the first night that we really felt like we were on the road. Waking up to the sun and enjoying some very dark coffee just sealed the deal.
The next day was a quick pit stop at Mount Rushmore - I know, one isn't supposed to rush through something like that but we had 11 hours ahead of us. It was amazing and huge and just, wow.
Eleven hours later - barring one quick stop at some mineral hot springs where we took a quick rotten-egg-smelling soak - we arrived in the stunningly beautiful Tetons national park. And here we are. The mountains just dwarf you and put you in your tiny human place. Last night we stayed in a hand-made cabin below the mountains and met some lovely people who actually live here, like year round. Every time I turned around I got a: "so I hear you're from Minnesota?" "Aren't you from Illinois?" "Oh I've got an aunt from Tennessee maybe you know her?"
Suddenly I am the every traveler and that's pretty awesome. I said yes to everything and fought the urge to introduce myself as Donna, Brenda or Kelly, because I did actually know one person there and I don't think he would have been too pleased.
So today it's hiking and swimming and canoeing. But first breakfast.
The computer did not take to my herbal remedies so it will be random updates sans photos until I can find a mobster to take it out.
More soon.
~L & R
Experiencing technical difficulty...
After three days of hard-wired office driving, my hypochondriac computer decided it was dying. I went down the usual medicinal routes required for such a scenario - scolding, yelling, slapping, shaking - to no avail. I'm trying something a little different now. Computer is soaking in a lavender-scented bath and I've boiled some water for a nice cup of chamomile tea that it will take to a quiet room for a long night's sleep. Hopefully after tonight it will spring back to life and we can get on with the show.
I'll give a catch up tomorrow or soon there after when I find a suitable teen-angsty computer lab. In the meantime...we made it to Jackson Hole and are staying with some awesome outdoorsy people - the kind with perpetual sunglass tans - in a cabin on a dirt road called mosquito circle. It's raining but isn't that all the more romantic. Tomorrow: mountains, streams and canoes. It's a rough life.
L&R
I'll give a catch up tomorrow or soon there after when I find a suitable teen-angsty computer lab. In the meantime...we made it to Jackson Hole and are staying with some awesome outdoorsy people - the kind with perpetual sunglass tans - in a cabin on a dirt road called mosquito circle. It's raining but isn't that all the more romantic. Tomorrow: mountains, streams and canoes. It's a rough life.
L&R
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Cheese, corn and SPAM!
We got an early start leaving Chicago, which afforded us the time to stop off and see some of the local flavor along I-90.
First stop was the Carr Cheese Factory. Modest by factory-size standards, but overflowing with varieties of gen-u-ine Wisconsin cheese. We walked off with something called Goat Cheddar - delicious.
Then we hit southern Minnesota. There's really only two things that come to mind with this long stretch of interstate: corn and motorcyclists. There were A LOT of both. Not as much motorbikes as corn - that would be just silly - but enough to notice.
Minnesota was just mile after green pillowy mile of corn farms. it was amazing until it wasn't. We grew weary and quiet. Suddenly, a beacon of hope shone in the form of a billboard in classic blue and yellow. Could it be? No...it just couldn't...but it was...The SPAM Museum!
We stopped - obviously - and we're wowed. During the 10 minute Spam appreciation movie a lady with a shock of white hair that matched her official Hormel coat came in to offer SPAM snacks. R bravely opted for the 'original' flavor on a pretzel rod. I passed. R swallowed without chewing, but when in Austin...
The SPAM museum was and may very well be one of the overall highlights. though we may not have made out with any actual SPAM, we did leave with enough paraphernalia to last us through the trip.
Have we gotten you hungry for that salty canned meat? Here's a few museum highlights to wet your whistle:
Spam in Japan:
Looking forward to a low key night in Sioux Falls, we crossed the South Dakota boarder and were welcomed by billboards that quoted Jesus and advertised the local gun shop. Needless to say, we felt at home.
After checking into the Roadway Inn (rustic) we're off see this bustling metropolis - dinner at a restaurant suggested by Dana and then a showing of the Dark Knight. I feel like we're blending.
~L&R
First stop was the Carr Cheese Factory. Modest by factory-size standards, but overflowing with varieties of gen-u-ine Wisconsin cheese. We walked off with something called Goat Cheddar - delicious.
Then we hit southern Minnesota. There's really only two things that come to mind with this long stretch of interstate: corn and motorcyclists. There were A LOT of both. Not as much motorbikes as corn - that would be just silly - but enough to notice.
Minnesota was just mile after green pillowy mile of corn farms. it was amazing until it wasn't. We grew weary and quiet. Suddenly, a beacon of hope shone in the form of a billboard in classic blue and yellow. Could it be? No...it just couldn't...but it was...The SPAM Museum!
We stopped - obviously - and we're wowed. During the 10 minute Spam appreciation movie a lady with a shock of white hair that matched her official Hormel coat came in to offer SPAM snacks. R bravely opted for the 'original' flavor on a pretzel rod. I passed. R swallowed without chewing, but when in Austin...
The SPAM museum was and may very well be one of the overall highlights. though we may not have made out with any actual SPAM, we did leave with enough paraphernalia to last us through the trip.
Have we gotten you hungry for that salty canned meat? Here's a few museum highlights to wet your whistle:
Spam in Japan:
Looking forward to a low key night in Sioux Falls, we crossed the South Dakota boarder and were welcomed by billboards that quoted Jesus and advertised the local gun shop. Needless to say, we felt at home.
After checking into the Roadway Inn (rustic) we're off see this bustling metropolis - dinner at a restaurant suggested by Dana and then a showing of the Dark Knight. I feel like we're blending.
~L&R
A tree falls in Chicago
Last night was, according to one man on NPR, the worst storm in Chicago history. There were tornado sirens, thunder that could crack a house in half, and lightening that kept the sky lit for hours. It was IN. SANE.
I thought I'd seen my fair share of storms and that perhaps our Chicago friends were over-reacting to a 'little rain storm' by getting out of their third-floor apartment to bunker down with a friend in his first floor shelter.
Well, I take it back. It was bad and terrifying.
Flights at O'Hare were canceled and customers were sent to the basement to wait out the storm, the cubs game was called off in the 8th and fans were ushered into the concourse for safety, roofs were blown off buildings, and fallen trees blocked entire streets (as below).
And where were R & L? As lights flickered ominously, and sheets of rain threatened the strength of the double pain glass, L & R were in an empty office on Belmont with Brendan, their real estate broker/new emergency contact, trying get a lease signed.
That's right folks - it's official - I'm a Chicagoan. After a spirit-breaking start with Apartment People (don't use them...ever) that, emotionally, rivaled the storm that surrounded us later, we found an awesome and HUGE apartment in East Lakeview. It's fabulous and I cannot be happier. That's my - yes - little Juliet balcony on the third floor and where I'll hang my hat.
I now live on Surf Street and everyone can start sending mail, presents, sing-o-grams now.
Come visit!
I thought I'd seen my fair share of storms and that perhaps our Chicago friends were over-reacting to a 'little rain storm' by getting out of their third-floor apartment to bunker down with a friend in his first floor shelter.
Well, I take it back. It was bad and terrifying.
Flights at O'Hare were canceled and customers were sent to the basement to wait out the storm, the cubs game was called off in the 8th and fans were ushered into the concourse for safety, roofs were blown off buildings, and fallen trees blocked entire streets (as below).
And where were R & L? As lights flickered ominously, and sheets of rain threatened the strength of the double pain glass, L & R were in an empty office on Belmont with Brendan, their real estate broker/new emergency contact, trying get a lease signed.
That's right folks - it's official - I'm a Chicagoan. After a spirit-breaking start with Apartment People (don't use them...ever) that, emotionally, rivaled the storm that surrounded us later, we found an awesome and HUGE apartment in East Lakeview. It's fabulous and I cannot be happier. That's my - yes - little Juliet balcony on the third floor and where I'll hang my hat.
I now live on Surf Street and everyone can start sending mail, presents, sing-o-grams now.
Come visit!
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Helloooooo Chicago!
HO. LEE. CRAP that's a long drive!
But we have arrived - and before nightfall even. Yes, that's right. After 13 hours of sitting and shifting and fidgeting we are OUT of the car.
And who better to welcome us to Jake & Jenny's apartment in their absence than Zac (Jake's brother) and his trusty charge, Logan.
After loving on Logan, unloading a few bags and emptying the contents of the garlic-humus-infested cooler we celebrated:
Once the blood comes back to the lower half of my body I'm sure I'll do a little jig in honor of the first leg complete. But for now we're languidly off to find some grub, a drink and then to bed.
Tomorrow I may officially become a Chicagoan...
But we have arrived - and before nightfall even. Yes, that's right. After 13 hours of sitting and shifting and fidgeting we are OUT of the car.
And who better to welcome us to Jake & Jenny's apartment in their absence than Zac (Jake's brother) and his trusty charge, Logan.
After loving on Logan, unloading a few bags and emptying the contents of the garlic-humus-infested cooler we celebrated:
Once the blood comes back to the lower half of my body I'm sure I'll do a little jig in honor of the first leg complete. But for now we're languidly off to find some grub, a drink and then to bed.
Tomorrow I may officially become a Chicagoan...
We're off!
I totally exaggerated my early mornning rise yesterday because today we were really up with the sun!
With two quick shots of espresso we are off - 5:30 departure!
We start our trip heading west as the sun rises in the east.
Destination: Chicago to visit friends and get me an apartment.
Mileage so far: 29.3
Music: despite hours uploading my ipod I opted for the scan radio so that I check out what all the kids are listening to. At this early hour we've got a little Little Wayne - why not?
Driving attire: the options were endless but I've settled on some cut off shorts and a tank top and though I have packed a couple dozen outfits for who knows what, I suspect that this will be my uniform. R is also looking comfy in a Kenyon sweatshirt and shorts.
And I think that is already more than anyone cares to know.
TTFN
With two quick shots of espresso we are off - 5:30 departure!
We start our trip heading west as the sun rises in the east.
Destination: Chicago to visit friends and get me an apartment.
Mileage so far: 29.3
Music: despite hours uploading my ipod I opted for the scan radio so that I check out what all the kids are listening to. At this early hour we've got a little Little Wayne - why not?
Driving attire: the options were endless but I've settled on some cut off shorts and a tank top and though I have packed a couple dozen outfits for who knows what, I suspect that this will be my uniform. R is also looking comfy in a Kenyon sweatshirt and shorts.
And I think that is already more than anyone cares to know.
TTFN
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Packing day
We were optimistic. The forest of butterflies woke me up with the dawn and soon enough we were on our merry suburban day. New tire, alignment, car wash and a cool beverage all done before 9.
Impressive, I know.
And with a clean car, an empty palette, the packing and organizing seemed a breeze.
And then the the Hurricane came.
So we're cooped up in the house until this mess passes. The lay over is dangerous,as it gives me pause to consider all the more items I might possibly need at some point in this trip.
If this hurricane doesn't pick up the pace R & I are going to be contemplating a time in which I can sport my high school prom dress and where we might have the space for a game of twister.
Rain rain go away...
Impressive, I know.
And with a clean car, an empty palette, the packing and organizing seemed a breeze.
And then the the Hurricane came.
So we're cooped up in the house until this mess passes. The lay over is dangerous,as it gives me pause to consider all the more items I might possibly need at some point in this trip.
If this hurricane doesn't pick up the pace R & I are going to be contemplating a time in which I can sport my high school prom dress and where we might have the space for a game of twister.
Rain rain go away...
Friday, August 1, 2008
Ready....set....
Go.
Finally.
It took a while.
There was much to do.
There was packing and moving and lifting and storing.
And when all of that was done there was still more. Or less - less stuff. For one last week we lived in a sad little apartment - no bed, no furniture, no fixins, no nothing.
To inaugurate the week of urban camping we had a sweet and sad little dinner in the one clean room - complete with ironing board-cum-table and entertainment provided by bunny ears.
But that was then and this is now. And now is pretty sweet. We're having a maintenance break in CT - doin' some laundry, rotating the tires, hittin up the mall- just the usual sundry suburban things.
Though just hours ago we said goodbye to our home at 116 and I gave a low and slightly tearful bow to the wonderful people at my work of three year, tonight we relax like there's nothing behind and a big question mark ahead.
This is the start of something new. It feels the same except for the forest of butterflies that have settled in my full-on-burgers tum. I guess that's excitement.
Tomorrow it may be more packing and lifting and storing and planning and talking but without a work day ahead of us, that all sounds pretty awesome.
Finally.
It took a while.
There was much to do.
There was packing and moving and lifting and storing.
And when all of that was done there was still more. Or less - less stuff. For one last week we lived in a sad little apartment - no bed, no furniture, no fixins, no nothing.
To inaugurate the week of urban camping we had a sweet and sad little dinner in the one clean room - complete with ironing board-cum-table and entertainment provided by bunny ears.But that was then and this is now. And now is pretty sweet. We're having a maintenance break in CT - doin' some laundry, rotating the tires, hittin up the mall- just the usual sundry suburban things.
Though just hours ago we said goodbye to our home at 116 and I gave a low and slightly tearful bow to the wonderful people at my work of three year, tonight we relax like there's nothing behind and a big question mark ahead.
This is the start of something new. It feels the same except for the forest of butterflies that have settled in my full-on-burgers tum. I guess that's excitement.
Tomorrow it may be more packing and lifting and storing and planning and talking but without a work day ahead of us, that all sounds pretty awesome.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
