The Wedding - Day 0 - "To Have and to Hold"

7/31/15, “To Have and to Hold”

John F. Kennedy International Airport, New York (JFK)

To have and to hold, what does that even mean?  Love is sacrifice.  This might be an unpopular thing to say, but it is true.  By choosing to make this sacrifice, and, yes, love is always a choice.  We may not be able to choose with whom we fall in love, but we have have the choice in our actions.  By choosing to make this sacrifice, by choosing to let someone in to our lives, by choosing to hold and cherish the special person we have in our life, both partners enrich their lives.  So, that’s where the controversy comes into play, because is this choice really a sacrifice?  Sure we give up certain things, but we get so much more in return.  In order to have and to hold, we have to want we have, we have to want to hold it.

By that definition, since we gain so much, maybe it’s not really a sacrifice, but I think it is.  In order to be in a position to gain that much, we must also be in a position to lose everything.  Tomorrow’s entry will focus on “For Better, For Worse,” and anyone who lives up to that, who holds on to what they have for better, for worse will never have to worry about losing what they have.  It is with that in mind that I embark on this trip to Oregon to celebrate my brother’s wedding, so that they can have and hold for the rest of their lives.

A year ago, when I was last in Oregon, I had started dating the girl I thought I was going to marry.  We had and we held, but it was not enough.  There was no for better, for worse.  She went through too much for worse, and she wouldn’t let me be there for her when she was for worse.  I went to Antarctica.  When I came back, she no longer wanted to have or to hold.  She has found someone else now.  Will she want to have and to hold him, for better, for worse?  I don’t know, and I don’t care.  I am happily alone right now.  This time tomorrow, I will be surrounded by friends and family, by five of the six people I love most in the world.  You know who you are, and the sixth one should know who she is, too.  She’s the only person I’ve ever told I’ve loved, in any context, in this calendar year.

There are so many philosophical themes I could explore on this, but the most important one will make it into my rehearsal dinner speech.  I won’t spoil the surprise, but it is pretty much useless to philosophize on love.  Love might be rational (not a typo), but relationships work very empirically.  They either work, or they don’t.  It doesn’t matter why.  I’m tired of sifting through the relationships that don’t work, for now at least.  When I find someone worth having and holding, great.  Until then, I have my friends and my family.

Fuck, I can’t right about the events of last night in the Travelogue, but, let’s just say it ended with my friend crashing on my floor.  It was the first time he legally bought a bottle of alcohol in the United States.  The bottle did not last the night.  He was gone when I woke up, and I rushed to pack and get ready.  I had a fairly productive day at work and a busy extended lunch hour.  First, I had to get a new pair of glasses, and they didn’t have the kind I like in my brand.  Then I went to get my wedding speeches bound, two speeches.  Next, I got my departure lunch at Hop Won.  Then I lit up my H. Upmann and walked back to the FedEx Office to get the binders.  I resumed my cigar and headed to the cigar store, where I picked up some sticks for the trip.  Next, I had to get my shoes shined.  I finished the cigar during the shine, and the guy was a real comedian.  What do a meteorologist and a woman always have in common?  All they want to know is how long it’s going to last and how many inches.  Jokes like that.  I gave him a nice tip since he kept me amused.

I finished up at work, picking up my glasses and a cupcake in the process, and then headed to the airport.  Traffic wasn’t too bad, and I breezed through security.  I headed to the gate, where I wrote an emergency proposal and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can write a few more proposals and board.

Buckeyes and Bourbon - Day 3 - The Return Journey

7/27/15, “The Return Journey”

New York, New York

Technically the trip ended the moment I set foot in my apartment at 8 AM this morning.  I could have opened up my laptop and quickly written the few sentences necessary to close out the trip.  I think my readers know me well enough to know that that is not my style.

After I published last night’s entry, the plan was for me to take over the wheel drive until we left Ohio.  However, well, this isn’t going on Facebook, so I might as well use names, Stuart wanted me to finish going through the receipts so that I could write him a check for what I owed him, since we used his credit card for almost everything.  That took some time, almost an hour, in fact, I think.  Once that was finished, we pulled over, and I took the wheel.

It was now close to 11:30 PM, and I had been up for 17 hours, only having 3 hours of sleep.  Stuart had not gotten much more, and he barely slept on the ride in Friday night.  Connor got some sleep on the ride in, and he got the most sleep of us Saturday night.  We had thought he was sleeping while we were driving, but Stuart’s constant yammering kept him awake.  In other words, it was 11:30 PM, we had 7 hours to our destination, and we were all tired af.

So, the original plan was that we left the restaurant at 9 PM, and Stuart would drive for an hour while I did my entry.  I would then drive from like 10 PM to 12:30 PM, which would give Connor over three hours of sleep.  He would take over the wheel for 3 hours or so, until 3:30 AM, which would give Stuart over 5 hours of sleep, and then he could finish the drive home, which would get me and Connor to work properly rested.  Great plan, right?

“Best-laid plans…”  I almost fell asleep at the wheel, and it was clear I would have trouble making it to midnight.  Connor didn’t get his sleep due to conversation in the front row.  Stuart couldn’t get himself to sleep, even though he was on 4 hours of sleep total in two nights.    Around midnight, we pulled into a gas station, and I changed into my pajamas, giving Connor the wheel.  Tempers were flared at this point.  Connor’s most of all and rightfully so.  Stuart can be very annoying, but I have gotten used to him by now.  Connor not so much.  Connor thought I was being lazy by not doing my share of the driving, but I knew that I was risking an accident by continuing.  Stuart was well, just being Stuart.

After two days of travelling with very little sleep and lots of driving, it was not a good combination.  I woke up close to 2 AM with a very full bladder, and Connor refused to stop on the side of the road.  I waited about ten minutes for a rest stop, and then he told me the next one was in twenty minutes.  I could not wait that long, and I said that I was going to U out the window if he didn’t pull over.  He didn’t stop.  I literally opened the window and was about to make a very unofficial U when we saw an emergency stopping shoulder.  The tempers got a little more frayed.  Connor and Stuart split the driving while I slept in the backseat.  I definitely got the better end of that deal, though I suppose anoher way to look at it was that I paid for Connor’s share of the trip, and he did my share of the driving or something, but still.  It was his birthday present, so he shouldn’t have ended the trip regretting he took it.

It was soon daylight, and we were in New Jersey.  We did not beat rush hour traffic, and it was going to be tight for Connor to get to work by 8 AM.  I had until 9 AM, well 9:07 AM, but I need to shower and change.  Reader, recall I was still in my pajamas.  I packed up my stuff, and Stuart dropped me off half a block from my apartment.  I grabbed all of my stuff, still in my pajamas, and walked back to my apartment.  Connor was about fifteen minutes late to work and I took the full heat for it, knowing that the staff at the cigar shop would understand.

Reader, why did I go into so much detail about that drive, about everyone’s emotions?  I did it for one simple reason.  There is no better way to judge the character of a trip than by examining the return journey.  Is it exhaustion?  Triumph?  Fighting?  Comradery?  That was what this trip was, exhausting and filled with fighting.  When Connor and I did our New Mexico trip together, the return journey (from the restaurant to the airport) was triumphant and relaxed, just like the whole trip.  That was not the case on this trip.  A group trip like this is a very new experience for me, but I hope to repeat such trips in the future.

The only other such trip I can recall was the one to Canada with Sokol and Larsen.  The difference there was that I was financing almost the entire trip.  Here, Stuart and I were equal partners.  Further, Sokol and Larsen are very laid back.  Stuart, not so much.  Connor is laid back, but he has limits, and they were pushed this trip.  Stuart and I will probably go to Pittsburgh next summer, and Connor and I are talking about trips to Delaware and Toronto, but I doubt Connor and Stuart will ever get in the same car together again.  I enjoyed the trip, but it won’t rank anywhere on any of my lists.

Okay, so what happened after I got home?  I lit up a cigar right away, hoping to finish it before work, but it was only halfway done when I got to the cigar store at 9 AM, ready to tell everyone it was my fault Connor was late, but he beat me to the punch.  “He’s the reason I’m late,” Connor said as soon as I walked in.  I agreed with him, and T said that he didn’t doubt it.  I said that I drank about a gallon of diet soda, which necessitated numerous pit stops.  No one cared.  He has had perfect attendance and punctuality so far.  If he was fifteen minutes late from a road trip to celebrate his birthday, it was fine.

I then went to the office, and I did as much as I could throughout the day, my fatigue setting in early afternoon.  I had a dentist appointment to get my cavity drilled, and I had some Chinese food in the fridge from Friday.  I had that for lunch, went to the cigar store to finish my cigar for the morning, then went to the dentist.  My afternoon was not particularly productive, since I was dead tired.  I barely made it to 5:53 PM.  I went to the cigar store to say hi then biked home, lighting up a Cusano Raymond had left at my apartment when I got home.  Don’t try to parse that sentence.  The grammar’s right.  I then proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close, along with closing the trip.  Next stop: Hood River, Oregon for my brother’s wedding.

Buckeyes and Bourbon - Day 2 - A Little Fall of Rain

7/26/16, “A Little Fall of Rain”

En route, I-71 N, Ohio

When one travels, so much can go wrong, so much can change one’s plans, so much can ruin a wonderful day.  I would think first on that list is a little fall of rain, especially when outdoor activities or long drives are planned.  My 2013 Eurotrip, I got remarkably lucky with the weather, never feeling so much as a single drop of rain in 18 days, only getting caught in the rain during two morning drives.  Last year in Alaska, we were not as lucky, rain practically ruining our trip twice.  First, a little fall of rain caused us to miss out on being able to take a charter flight to see two National Parks, though we were able to reschedule that flight for our last day in Alaska.  Second, a little fall of rain on the Dalton led to us getting stuck in the mud.  Third, when we finally did get to Kotzebue, a little fall of rain almost prevented us from taking those flights.  The trip I took with my mom a few weeks ago, while did hit some rain on the road, it did not affect our outdoor activities at all.

That was not the case today.  I could very easily write an extremely short entry focusing on the activities of the day but that is not my style.  First, I need to add in my comments from yesterday.  I have been all over the country, so the shock my travel companions expected being in what they considered the “hick” towns was unexpected to me.  My old friend was complaining he did not see any beautiful women in Ohio, a point I refused to let stand, and a debate that continued this morning, due in no small part to the fact that prettiest girl I know grew up in Ohio.

Alright, I have forty minutes before we turn off this road, which means I have forty minutes to finish writing and publishing this entry.  My computer somehow fixed itself, and I was able to publish my entry, promoting it in the morning.  I knew I would only be able to get three hours of sleep, so every minute was precious once I got upstairs.  My old friend tried to set the alarm, and I knew I would wake up in time naturally.  The alarm blared while he was setting it, and I was ready to kill him.  I soon woke up and told everyone to get up.  The deal I had made with him was that we would be at his amusement park by 10 AM, so long as everyone was ready to go when I was.  I calculated the latest we could leave the hotel was 7:30 AM.

We did not get on the road until 8 AM, no fault of my own.  Breakfast was quite good, too, better than the disappointing experiences I had at the Hampton Inn recently, and we headed towards the amusement park.  I broke 100 on the road, not sure if I had previously done it in Kentucky.  I don’t think I’ve done it in Ohio, but I’ll be back here at least one more time, anyway.  Our first stop was the William Howard Taft NHS in Cincinnati.  When we got there, I asked the ranger, “Where’s the bathtub?”  I’m not sure if any of my readers will get that joke, but the ranger certainly did.  He told me that a) the story might be apocryphal and b) there was a picture of the tub on the second floor of the house.  The story is, of course, that Taft, our fattest president, once got stuck in the bathtub at the White House.  We walked around the house, my friends taking more time there than I, and I lit up an H. Upmann as we took our ceremonial pictures.

The next stop I wanted to take was a picture at the William Mason High School in Mason, where my aforementioned friend grew up, thinking it would be funny to send her a picture of the high school, and it was very close to the amusement park, which was also in Mason.  There was some kind of event going on, and it was all closed off, so I couldn’t get the picture.

We were soon at the amusement park, and everything went great until lunch.  We had a fun time, doing the biggest and most famous rides.  King’s Island, on the outskirts of Cincinnati would have to be considered one of Ohio’s premiere attractions.  It’s funny, my old friend got us free tickets by saying he was reviewing the park.  Now, in fact, here I am, reviewing the park on a public blog.  We did Firehawk first, which had us lying on our backs and going in every single possible direction, including upside down.  I figured that the scariest part would be when the seat went backwards to put us on our backs.  I was right.  I was not ready for it, so I kept my eyes closed at first.  I was wedged between my two friends, and my newer friend kept teasing me, which eventually got me to open my eyes.  I freaked the fuck out, but I kept my eyes opened the rest of the ride.  It was maybe the highest thrill ride of the trip.

Next was the Banshee, which is the park’s newest ride.  That may have actually been a higher thrill than the Firehawk, and I was more in the mood after the first coaster.  Next was the most famous coaster in the park, The Beast, which is also the longest wooden coaster in the world and was the tallest when it was built.  It was not as high of a thrill as I expected.  After that came my favorite ride of the trip, which was the Diamondback.  My Ohio friend gave that a high recommendation, and I loved it.  I felt like I was flying.

We then stopped for chili, which led to a bit of a fight somehow, since my old friend was kind of deceptive about how important it was to him to eat at that chili place, it really not being important, just a food that he liked.  It was very filling, and it sapped my energy for the rest of the day.  The birthday boy, my newer friend, was feeling nauseated, so we split up.  I felt bad about leaving him alone on his birthday, but my old friend insisted I accompany him on all the rides.  I will not go into the details, but we did a few more rides, which were all much lower thrill than the earlier rides, and then we got to the last big one, Vortex.  It was delayed due to weather.

Then it started pouring.  A little fall of rain, and it messed everything up.  My friend found a way to blame me for missing that ride, saying I spent too much time at the gift shops and refilling my drinks (on a hot summer day).  I almost slapped him.  There was one ride that was indoors, so that was still opened, but the wait was almost an hour.  After we did that, we met my other friend, and we did the last wooden coaster and some water rides.  In the end, we somehow managed to do every coaster in the park and still make it to dinner by 8 PM, even with the late start.  Everyone was starting to get on each other’s nerves.  Well, that’s not true.  I think my newer friend and I were fine with each other, but we’ve travelled before, and we’ve never really fought or argued, just minor annoyances.

For dinner, we went to the Golden Lamb, Ohio’s “most iconic” restaurant, and it absolutely was worthy of that title.  For starters, twelve presidents, plus Henry Clay, Mark Twain, and Charles Dickens have all dined there.  Then, the meal, which was amazing.  They had an extremely reasonably priced “taste of summer” menu, which, for me, meant corn chowder, black bean fritters, and smoked lamb ribs, along with two beers, charcuterie to share, and bread with butter and apple butter.  I am still stuffed, and I still can’t believe how good that lamb was.  I said I would take the second shift of driving, and we got back in the car, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I publish it and take over the wheel.  I will treat the reflections and journey home in full tomorrow.

Buckeyes and Bourbon - Day 1 - The Also Rans

7/25/15, "The Also Rans"

Frankfort, Kentucky

I woke up this morning in Columbus, the capital of Ohio, now, 17 hours later I find myself in the capital of Kentucky, desperately wanting to go to sleep.  so much of today is familiar to the way I travel, but so much is also unfamiliar, including the fact that I an writing this entry on my phone and not my computer, due to a possibly fatal error my computer has encountered.  I do not think I will be able to fix it before I get back to New York.  The title of tonight's entry originally applied to the two National Park Sites we visited today that have pending World Heritage Site nominations.  However, here in Kentucky, smoking my pipe and drinking bourbon, I have realized that Kentucky better exemplifies the idea of the also rans.  All the horses who also ran at Churchill Downs comes to mind, as does the state's junior senator.  While, idealogically be nay be my favored candidate, I have little faith in his ability to lead the country.   This time next year, he will just be an also ran.

I will have to save the more thorough philosophical exploration of the idea of the also ran for another time, but suffice it to say, it is a concept apt to personal experience.  Every boy who was ever turned down to prom is an also ran.  I will recall the events of the day as concisely and quickly as possible, since it is really annoying to write this on my phone.  I have to be on the road again in five hours.  Agh, fuck it.   I'm going inside to finish this on a computer.

I appear to have found a temporary fix.  I hope it can lead to a permanent fix.  Either way, I am now back on the computer, and I will do this entry as quickly as possible.  We took our ceremonial pictures at the Statehouse before, after one thing led to another, getting donuts for breakfast.  We then made our way to Hopewell Culture NHP, the first of the also rans.  We were there before they opened, but I could still get my brochure, so I lit up the new Davidoff Escurio, and we walked around, taking pictures of the earthworks.  It is basically the same as Cahokia and Poverty Point, and I have no idea why those were inscribed and not this one, or if this one is even worthy of inscription with those two already inscribed.

We made our way to the river, and we started to walk down, but the mud made it very difficult, and I slipped twice.  We headed back and were at the VC a little after they opened.  I talked with the ranger about the also ran status of the site, and he said this would be the next one to get inscribed.  I knew far more about the process than he did, and he asked what I studied in college, saying that I was clearly very intelligent.  I liked that.  It is likely this one will get inscribed next summer, which would mean I would have to return.

After I did my business in the VC, we headed to Charles Young Buffalo Soldiers NM, which just Colonel Young’s house, empty and unrestored.  It was an Official visit, and I had some more of my cigar.  Well, I might have to return for that, too, if Hopewell gets inscribed.  We took our ceremonial pictures there and continued to Dayton, the other also ran, which was clearly the most interesting stop of the trip.

We did everything in the wrong order, but we soon found ourselves at the world’s first airport, Huffman Prairie Flying Field.  This was where the Wright Brothers perfected their flying machines.  I could have spent all day in Dayton, and I will return for a full day if they do get inscribed.  It’s a site very worthy of inscription.  We were tight on time, so we raced from one stamp spot to the next, continuing my Escurio as I could.  We saw the Wright Brothers’ bicycle shop, yes, the Dunbar House, which was an NHL, and other sites in Dayton, but we did not afford them the proper time or respect.

We spent too much time in Dayton and were behind schedule, us starting to get on each other’s nerves, only our old jokes keeping us from fighting.  We stopped for Arby’s on the way to Kentucky, and we were at the amusement park around 3 PM.  We had a full agenda to do before dinner, but my friend was insistent we did every ride, including a Wizard of Oz show.  This was a familiar experience for me and my old friend, new for my new friend.  We had our fun and ate more food than necessary.  There was an incident with my old friend finding his glasses, which delayed our entrance to the Wizard of Oz show, which, in turn, cost us the Louisville Slugger Museum.

After the park, we headed to Churchill Downs, which is an NHL, so I lit up a Jericho Hill there, after we took our ceremonial pictures, and I took some more ceremonial pictures with the cigar.  We went to the Louisville Slugger Museum, and we could see the bats inside, so we took even more ceremonial pictures and headed down to the river.  We then went to a place to get a cup of burgoo, which my old friend insisted we try, even though we were about to get dinner.  It was good, but it was just plain stew.

We headed to dinner at Jack Fry’s, Kentucky’s “most iconic” restaurant, and it was well deserving of its title.  The meal was exceptional.  We had early stopped at a liquor store to get some bourbon.  Even though my new friend (weird calling him this as he’s practically been my best friend for the past five months, but I have known the other guy for almost five years, I think), felt guilty about buying a bottle four hours before he turned 21.  They didn’t card him.  At the restaurant, I said we were celebrating his 21^st birthday, so we needed some Mitcher’s bourbon to celebrate.  They didn’t card him.  We ate family style, getting fried oysters and bone marrow for appetizers, steak and pork chop for the main course.  My old friend complained that this was not enough food, even though we had been constantly eating all day.  He complains about everything, which sours the trip for me, and it is my least favorite part about travelling with him.  The meal was delicious, and they brought a piece of cake afterwards, as the pianist played “Happy Birthday.”  The meal was, in a word, fabulous, and we topped it off with espresso.

We tried in vain to find Derby Pie before we made our way to Frankfort, stopping at a random location for a ceremonial picture at midnight.  We got to the hotel and settled in.  I then went outside where I lit up my Ardor and tried to restart my computer.  No luck.  I had a very specific problem, so I googled it, and it turned out my antivirus software was the issue.  The best fix was to log in in guest mode, so that was what I did.  I proceeded to write my entry at first on the phone, until I was able to get the guest mode to work, which is now working, so that’s how I finished the entry.  I will now close so that I can get some sleep, and I heavily doubt that I can publish, but I will give it a try as I finish my bourbon.

Buckeyes and Bourbon - Day 0 - The Old and the New

“Buckeyes and Bourbon”

7/24/15, “The Old and the New”

En route, I-78 W, New Jersey (Garden State Parkway)

Anyone who knows me knows how much I love my routines, how much I fear the unknown, how, for all of my adventures, I am so afraid to leave my comfort zone.  Now, there is some sense of irony to the fact that someone such as I is feeling what I’m feeling now.  For the past few weeks, ever since I got back from my last trip (maybe even since I left for the trip or earlier), I have felt a general sense of apathy towards all the things in my life that used to give me pleasure.

This is not the life has no meaning speech.  In fact, it’s quite the opposite.  The irony here is that, while I am feeling so apathetic to the old pleasures of my life, I am even more actively seeking out new pleasures and new experiences.  Having lost interest in the old things in my life, I have found it so much easier to shirk my fear of the unknown and do things that used to make me feel uncomfortable.  I will explore this topic in a companion piece in my personal journal, but I have made it a point in my Day 0 entries to explore the current state of my life to give better insight into the mindset with which I embark on these trips.

My previous trip, the last great summer road trip adventure, was a great one, but we learned a key piece of information on the trip.  San Antonio got a new World Heritage Site, which means it would not have a Plaque for quite some time.  Once we locate the Plaque, my mother and I may very well take that trip together.  The irony here was that my friend, the friend who is currently driving, and I were going to go to San Antonio together in August.  The new WHS designation made it no longer a good option for me to join him, though he will still be doing the trip alone.  We take a trip together every summer.  2012, it was Missouri, 2013 Minnesota, 2014 Washington and British Columbia, now, 2015, it’s Ohio and Kentucky.

Cincinnati is the closest major city I have not visited, and it will allow me a new capitol, two new iconic restaurants, and four new NPS units.  To further add to the irony, two of those NPS units are nominated as WHS.  Next summer, one of them might get inscribed, and then, well, this trip would be in vain, but, who knows.  Also, joining us on this trip is one of my best friends, the guy I hang out with every night.  I would categorize that friendship as one of the new experiences, since it is less than six months old, while my older friends are starting to bore me.  It’s not that I don’t want to maintain those friendships anymore.  It’s just that I have become apathetic to the older things in my life, that the people I love, the bonds of friendship, while those bonds show no sign of weakening or dissolving, the friendships just do not provide the enjoyment value they used to.  It is for that reason mostly that I am finding it less difficult to engage in those new experiences.

A road trip like this is a very new experience for me.  It is three of us, two of us equal partners in the finances, so we negotiated the schedule together.  The third, the newer friend, he is glad to come along for the ride, and he was quite happy with the schedule we derived.  This was basically just a “let’s in the car and go trip.”  We started talking about Cincinnati two weeks ago, and we didn’t even start planning it until this week.  We didn’t have everything finalized until last night.  We don’t even have a formalized itinerary, just the order of stops, our dinner restaurants, and the hotel for tomorrow night.  That’s the other reason why this is a new trip for me.  There will be no hotel for Days 0 or Day 2.  We are driving overnight both of those nights.  We will be in Columbus tomorrow ere the sun rises, only driving and sleeping in shifts in the car, and we have a full day of activities booked in Ohio and Kentucky before we get to our hotel in Frankfort.  We will do the same thing on the way home, a full day around Cincinnati, driving home overnight on Sunday, again sleeping and driving in shifts, which should get us to work Monday morning well rested.

There is one other trip like this I want to take, and that is to the Carolinas.  It would be a similar trip, but it would have to be my agenda, not a mixed agenda, since I have two full days of NPS sites I would want to see.  I was supposed to do that last year, but it fell through.  In fact, I think I’ve been talking about it for two years, but I need to find someone who can split the overnight driving with me.  I was going to do it this year, but this trip happened instead.  I have no doubt this will be a great trip, and being in the company of good friends, one old and one new, will make it even more adventurous and enjoyable.  We are about to stop for gas and food, so I will close and treat the events of Day 0 in full once we get to Pennsylvania.

En route, I-78 W, Pennsylvania

I have been writing about the old and the new, and so much of this trip is old and familiar, my old travelling companion acting the way he always does, making the same demands on the trip he always does, wanting to make sure we don’t leave the state before we’ve tried every food item listed on the Wikipedia for the state’s food page, even if it means eating six meals a day, the constant barrage of meaningless questions, the constant nagging when I am trying to reflect, write, or just relax, that is all familiar.  The fact that we are doing it in a new state, under new circumstances, and with a new travelling partner, none of that makes it any less familiar, but it is a new experience, nonetheless, a mix of the old and the new.

Today was a very typical Day 0, so much of it familiar, the fact that I am a passenger in an overnight drive not much different than being a passenger in an overnight flight.  In fact, being in the car is much easier than being a passenger on an airplane.  The three of us have the car to ourselves, and we can set our own schedule, be as loud or as quite as we want, eat whatever we want, and we have plenty of room, too.  Okay, so how did my typical Day 0 play out?  Well, there was a mix of new, too.

We saw Paper Towns last night, a typical YA movie, the awkward teenager falls in love with the prettiest girl in the school.  Story of my life, right?  It was a great movie, and I’d recommend it to anyone who likes the YA genre.  We went back, and my friend went home.  Meanwhile, our other mutual friend called me to let me know he wanted to crash on my floor, which he is always welcome to do.  He was utterly and royally toasted, having drank with some coworkers.  I finished my cigar, and we went to sleep.  My plan was to get to the office an hour early to do some data entry I had put off for too long, and I knew I could be done with it in that hour if I got in early.  Well, I was woken up at 6 AM by his alarm, and it rang every fifteen minutes, which troubled me in getting back to sleep.  I needed to wake up around 7:30 AM to get in that hour early, but the alarms fucked that up, each time it rang being too early for me to wake up.  The alarms stopped.  When I next woke up, it was 8:15 AM, which meant I would be able to take my time getting ready and get to work at my normal time.  I was sure if I was productive all day, I could do the data entry and all my normal stuff.

I texted my friend about Paper Towns, and she responded that was excited to see it.  She is probably the only person I know who loves YA as much as I do.  The best YA movie I’ve ever seen was on her recommendation: “The Perks of Being a Wallflower.”  There is a quote from that movie, well, the book, that has kind of defined the past few years of my life.  “People accept the love they think they deserve.”  There is so much meaning to that quote.  People who have a low opinion of themselves will accept abusive relationships because that is the love they think they deserve.  They will accept people who do not love them fully because they do not believe they are lovable enough to deserve someone who loves them fully.  I do not feel that way, and I refuse to accept any love less than the love I deserve.  I tried otherwise, and I learned the hard way not to accept anything less.  Wow, that was quite a tangent.  Okay, so, her response to my text was what woke me up, as is often what wakes me up in the morning.

I got ready, having packed last night, showered, shaved (somehow missing the bottom of my chin), and got to work right on time at 9:07 AM.  I had no appetite for breakfast.  In fact, I had not had much of an appetite since lunch yesterday.  I had a big meal for lunch, and I had a cookie after work.  That was the only food I ate after lunch, not being hungry for dinner.  I was still not hungry for lunch, which I usually take at 11 AM.  I had a full agenda of things I needed to do during my lunch break, not even having time to stop at the cigar store, where I hadn’t been since lunch on Tuesday.  The aforementioned new experiences taking up my evenings on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday.  People at the shop where even wondering where I had been, since they knew I was around in NY, not travelling.  They thought maybe they dad something to offend me.  Cue Alicia Silverstone, “As if!”

No, Tuesday night I played kickball.  Wednesday night drinks with my philosophy professor.  Thursday, birthday party for someone on the kickball team.  I had to go to each of those straight from work.  Wait, no, I did stop at the shop Tuesday night.  But, still, for me not to show up two nights in a row is quite unusual, so people started to wonder.  That is the old.  That is the familiar.  This was the new.  This was the unfamiliar.

Okay, so, my lunch break.  First, I had to stop at the post office.  I had neglected to mail my aforementioned friend her birthday present (a picture of the two of us with Amanda Seyfried from the night we first met, signed by Amanda, and a keytag with her name from Banff), so I took care of that at the post office, then I had to go to Men’s Warehouse to exchange the vest for my brother’s wedding for one size larger.  After that, I finally got my traditional pre-departure lunch at Hop Won, the old and the familiar.  I also had to stop at Duane Reade for my Nexium, which had run out.  That easily took the full hour.

I went back to the office, and I had a very productive day, finishing everything I needed to do.  I had picked up my dinner, too, at Hop Won, but I still had no appetite when it was time to leave work.  That was odd.  Well, it’ll still be good on Monday.  I went to the cigar shop, where my friend works now.  I got some snacks and a soda, but it wasn’t enough.  I needed protein, but the line at McDonald’s was too long, and I couldn’t find anything else I wanted.  I had my H. Upmann and bought a couple of cigars for the trip, including the new Davidoff Escurio, which I am very excited to try.

We headed downtown to meet my other friend, and we hit the road.  We had like three hours of Dutch built in, but the thing is we need to use that full 3 hours of Dutch time because I need daylight to take my picture at the Ohio State House, and the next site doesn’t open until 8:30 AM, which means we can’t leave there until 8:35 AM, and another site doesn’t open until 10 AM.  In other words, there is no way to push ahead the schedule by making good time.  Best case scenario, we get to Columbus early, and we sit in the car until dawn.  That appears to be what will happen.

Once we got on the Garden State Parkway, I proceeded to write the above entry.  We stopped for gas before we left New Jersey, and my friend and I were excited about recreating a scene from last night’s movie, where the kids are on a road trip and rush to get everything done they need to do at a gas station in six minutes.  We were not on such a tight schedule, but that didn’t stop us from running into the shop and reenacting the lines from the movie.  We then went to dinner, which turned out to be a very famous diner, known for having the world’s smallest and largest (256 pounds, yes, 256 pounds) burgers.  I got a regular sized burger with Philly cheesesteak toppings.  The meal was perfectly decent, despite my travelling companions’ complaints about the poor service and bland food.  We are actually now fighting about the tip, since he gave 15%.  I’m annoyed that he didn’t give 20%, since the bill was small, and it was three of us.  He wanted to give 12% because they didn’t refill his water without him asking for the refill.

I changed into my pajamas after dinner, and we got back on the road.  As soon as we entered Pennsylvania, I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can publish and sleep until we get to Columbus.

TLGSRTA - Day 10 - The Return Journey

7/12/15, “The Return Journey”

Minneapolis – St. Paul International Airport (MSP), Minnesota

“You can evade reality, but you cannot evade the consequences of evading reality.”  For 10 Days, I have evaded reality.  For 10 Days, I have travelled and journeyed and engaged in quests and adventures, both alone and with my faithful companion, my mother, as we engaged our on last great summer road trip adventure.  By the numbers, 4000 miles of driving, 8 states/provinces, 6 NPS units, 5 World Heritage Sites, 2 different cars, and one trip to remember for the rest of our lives.  For all the hardships and adversity, this trip will go down in the record books as one of the great ones.  It was our last great summer road trip adventure, and it was just as great as any of other ones.

Old Faithful, Yellowstone NP, Wyoming

Well, the Grand Canyon trip is and always will be number one.  Nothing can compare to that, ever.  Is this a close second?  I don’t know.  There were so many other great summer road trip adventures we partook in as I was growing up, the Great Lakes, Tennessee and the surrounding states, New England, and more.  What about all the great summer road trip adventures I did solo or with friends?  Alaska in 2014, Eurotrip in 2013, Missouri and the surrounding states in 2012, Minnesota and the surrounding states in 2013.  Is this really up there with them?  Absoultely.  Top ten to be sure, maybe even top five.  It is not a proper road trip without adversity and car trouble, and this trip was no exception, but more on that later.  First, my reflections.

Two Medicine Lake, Glacier NP, Montana

There is a line in Lord of the Rings, maybe the greatest line in the whole book.  Eomer, a Man, now King of Rohan, is talking with Gimli, a Dwarf.  The Dwarves and the Elves are traditional enemies, but Gimli forged an alliance between the Elves and Dwarves based on his friendship with Legolas and his love for the beautiful Galadriel, who was called the Morning Star.  Aragorn, another friend of Gimli and Legolas, has become King of Gondor, and he is married to the beautiful half-elven Princess, Arwen Evenstar, who is now his Queen.  Gimli loudly proclaims that Galadriel is the most beautiful woman in all the land and will fight to the death anyone who disagrees.  Eomer than says, “Had I seen her in other company, I would have said all that you could wish.  But now I will put Queen Arwen Evenstar first, and I am ready to do battle on my own part with any who deny me.  Shall I call for my sword?”  At that point, Gimli bows low to Eomer and says, “Nay, you are excused for my part, lord.  You have chosen the Evening, but my love is given to the Morning.”

Upper Waterton Lake, Waterton-Glacier IPP, Alberta

There is just so much meaning and depth to that exchange, and it should be one that anyone can relate to.  My mother and I had almost the exact same conversation at the end of our trip.  I was praising the beauty of the mountains, but she was having none of it.  My mother might as well have said, “Had I seen the mountains on another trip, I would have said all you could wish.  But now I will put the lakes first.”  I all but replied, “You have chosen the lakes, but my love is given to the mountain.”  The Canadian Rockies (and the Northern Rockies of the United States and the range in Alaska and the Yukon, since it’s all part of the same), is the most beautiful region in the world in my book.  The Caribbean has nothing on it.   While the lakes were wonderful, it was the mountains that took my breath away.

Lake Louise, Banff NP, Alberta

My mother I did not even come close to coming to sword and axe over that, even if we did over other things, since we both allowed for the beauty of each other’s favorite feature.  However, this was not the most magical part of the trip.  No, that honor belongs to Dinosaur Provincial Park, Jurassic Park: The Experience.  I never get tired of listening to that video I recorded with the Jurassic Park theme.  I don’t know what else can compare to that in terms of the absolute magic of the experience.  Anything I did in Greece with the Olympics?  Maybe something in Scotland with Braveheart?  I don’t know.  I’d have to think about it.  On the other hand, as wonderful as the mountains were, the prairie was boring.  It is the most boring place I have ever been.  Three days in the prairie, and I was bored after three hours.

Dinosaur PP, Alberta

Winnipeg was kind of interesting, but the whole region was a bore.  Just endless grasslands.  No charming beauty.  There are lakes in Manitoba and Minnesota, but I didn’t see them this trip.  Those would be interesting, kind of.  In the past three days, since I left Dinosaur Provincial Park, it was a total bore.  Just a quest for two flag pins and two provincial legislative assemblies.  That is not to say I did not have my share fair of adventure and adversity today, but that will be covered in the en route entry, where I will record the entire return journey, starting from dinner last night, which served as my last activity of the trip.

Manitoba Legislative Assembly, Winnipeg, Manitoba

When I went to Yellowknife, Fort Simpson, and Iqaluit, the tiny communities of Northern Canada, I loved it, the quiet isolation, the woods, the everything.  The prairie held no such magic.  No, to quote Gaston, “It’s a bore.”  In short, Yellowstone, vast and diverse.  Glacier, dramatic and breathtaking, Waterton even more so.  Canadian Rockies, unreal natural beauty.  Dinosaur Provinical Park, a truly magical experience.  The Prairie, a bore.  Okay, more detailed reflection en route.

Aboard DL 1526, En route MSP-LGA

Alright, I have written about how I have evaded reality for the past 10 Days, how I have ventured and journeyed and explored for the past 10 Days.  In 12 hours, I will have to face the consequences of evading reality for those 10 Days.  I will have to deal with whatever awaits me at work, probably working 50- or 60-hour weeks for the rest of the summer.  I will have to deal with whatever mess is in my apartment.  I will have to deal with whatever romantic connections I may or may not have available to me.  I will have to deal with no longer having my travel adventures to distract me from unanswered texts.  I will have to deal with readjusting my finances from this trip.  I will have to deal with any red flags that may or may not have been put on my border control records.  I have a lot to deal with when I get back.  While I have always been a big fan of evading reality, I have also always understood that Rand had it right, that you can evade reality, but you cannot evade the consequences of evading reality.  Alright, so about those top ten trips.  Quoted from 

2/16/15, “Who is John Galt?”

Albuquerque, New Mexico (Old Town)

What are the top five?  In no particular order, the National Park trip I took with my parents a lifetime ago, my Eurotrip in 2013, Antarctica, Israel, Alaska.  Rounding out the top ten might be Greece, the WWI trip, the CA-4 trip, the stranded trip in California during Sandy, and, well can I lump all the 2- and 3-day stamp runs into the tenth place spot?  I love doing those.

I don’t think that the April Lesser Antilles trip made the list, nor would the May Stockholm/Helsinki trip.  This trip, absolutely.  It sure as hell beats, wait, no, all of those trips were so amazing.  How can I say that Yellowstone beats Yosemite?  How can I say that Jurassic Park: The Experience beats Hercules: The Experience?  What else on this trip beat sitting alone in the Temple of Artemis?  What beat the ancient ruins in Tikal?  Can I just say top eleven?  Alright, I’ll do my best to rank them.  Grand Canyon et al number one, Eurotrip number two, Alaska three, Antarctica four, Israel five, Greece, California, WWI, CA-4, then the stamp runs lumped into the number ten spot.  Where does this rank?  If I have to make a decision?  In a week I might second guess this decision, but, for now, I’m saying number four, between Alaska and Antarctica.  I almost put in at number three, but I think Alaska barely holds out over this one, barely.

Wait, shit, Kentucky with my family, when I finally fully considered her to be family, not just a girl my brother was dating, when I saw her as my sister.  That has to count for something, right?  That was when I set out to see the world.  That has to count for something, too, right?  Hmm.  Okay, so maybe the top five is Grand Canyon et al, Eurotrip, Alaska, this trip, and then Kentucky.  No, Kentucky would have to be after WWI, before CA-4.  I guess I can take CA-4 out of the top ten.  Well, ain’t that something?  Top five trips of all time, four of them great summer road trip adventures, including each of the past three.  Ain’t that something?  Antarctica is only number five on my list.  I just realized what I should have called this trip, since I love using song lyrics and titles for my entries: “From the Mountains to the Prairies.”  The song is, of course, “God Bless America,” but it might as be called “God Bless North America,” using Jamaica Kincaid’s definition of North America as America and Canada.  However, a similar song is more apt for this purpose: “America the Beautiful,” which, again, might as well be called “North America the Beautiful.”

For the past three years, ever since that fateful night in Kentucky three years ago, when I set to see the world, I have seen the world, but, more importantly, I have seen North America.  For three years, I have explored, “from sea to shining sea.”  I have seen the Pacific in Malibu, in Juneau, in Vancouver, in Forks.  I have seen the Atlantic on Fire Island, in Maine, in Miami.  I have seen “the amber waves of grain” in Missouri, in Kansas, in Iowa, in Wisconsin, in Minnesota, in North Dakota, in Saskatchewan, in Manitoba.  I have seen “the purple mountain majesties” in Colorado, in Wyoming, in Montana, in Alberta, in Alaska, in British Columbia, in the Yukon.  I have even seen the “alabaster cities,” quite literally from “sea to shining sea.”

This trip represented the last great summer road trip, and there is not much ground for me to cover in the US and Canada.  I guess there are some parts of Texas I haven’t seen, but I will likely be going to San Antonio next year.  I don’t think I have seen the western Carolinas, though that is high on my list.  I suppose I have never really been in the heart of the deep south.  I have thoroughly explored Louisiana and Florida, but that whole Alabama/Mississipi area, I have only been either to the coastal areas or along the border with Tennessee.  As for Canada, it’s just the Maritimes, though there is a WHS off the coast of BC that I need to visit, but that’s a cultural site.  Although, if we really want to get technical, I have never been to the Great Lakes region of Canada.  Wait, I have, Toronto borders Lake Ontario.  Yeah, just the Maritimes.

I’m looking at my travel spreadsheet for the next two years, and, I am practically done with the US and Canada.  Those are the highest goals on my list, saying “US Complete” and “Canada Complete.”  I believe that was the vow I made that night in Kentucky, July 2014.  My brother also told me he was going to marry his girlfriend.  I asked for five years for my goals.  He’s taken three years.  I think I need to work that dig into the wedding speech.  Okay, so what’s left in US/CAN?  For mainland US, after the wedding, it’s just the Carolinas and San Antonio.  Then there is Puerto Rico and the Virgin Islands, along with my 30^th Birthday Trip to Hawaii et al.  Canada?  Two trips to the Maritimes, the WHS in BC, and maybe a trip to Toronto to do some checklist items required for “Ontario Complete,” maybe a new Plaque there, too.  That’s it.  And that also concludes my reflections.

So, this return journey?  I fully expected to write about a very unadventurous drive from Winnipeg to MSP.  No such luck, but let’s start with dinner.  It was amazing, but one problem.  I have been to the best steakhouses in New York.  Nothing can beat them, nothing.  Certainly nothing in Winnipeg, Manitoba.  That doesn’t mean I can’t get a good piece of steak.  It just means that if I want a truly celebratory meal, and I was celebrating a successful trip, even without the Manitoba flag pin, I shouldn’t go to a steakhouse.  I should go to something chic and local and unique to Winnipeg.  That was what I did in Fargo, North Dakota two years ago, and it was one of the best meals of my life.  That was what we did in Kalispell, Montana a week ago, and it was great.  That was not what I did in Winnipeg, Manitoba.  (N.b., almost every meal I had had in Canada, besides breakfast, was at an A&W or McDonald’s or Dairy Queen.  This was not a trip where I intended to have great meals.)

The dining room was closed, but they sat me in the lounge, and, since they were in a hurry to close, they brought my food out quickly, which I appreciated.  I ordered a Crown Royal Special Reserve, which is unique to Manitoba, duck quesadillas, which were quite tasty, and the rib-eye.  My reader should know how I like my steaks: rare, almost raw.  This came out medium-rare, but I was not about to send it back.  It tasted fine.  I got a dessert to go, bread pudding.  I then walked back to my hotel, where I proceeded to crash.  My plan was to have a pipe, eat the bread pudding, then go to sleep.  I forewent the pipe, lied in bed for half an hour, then decided to have the bread pudding.  No utensils.  What did I do?  I used two coffee stirrers as chopsticks, which worked, barely.

Okay, so I wanted to be on the road at 9 AM, a hard 9 AM.  If my reader doesn’t recall the difference between soft and hard, soft arrival is when you pull into the entrance of the site, the time your GPS says you will arrive.  Hard arrival is when you park your car, organize yourself, and make it inside the VC or lobby or light up your cigar outside a site.  Soft departure is when you leave your hotel room.  Hard departure is when you are all situated in the car and actually out of the parking lot and on the road.  I figured I wanted to aim to be at the airport at 5:15 PM for my 7:14 PM flight, the drive was about 6:30 without traffic, and I wanted to allow for two hours of Dutch Time, one hour planned (border crossing, meals, checking every gas station for flag pins, etc.), one hour unplanned (getting searched at the border, traffic, tire issues, etc.).  That meant I should have actually been on the road at 8:45 AM, but I figured a hard 9 AM departure would be fine.  I woke up early enough, but not early enough to have a pipe, which I wanted to do on the balcony, and I had no appetite.

I got the local special omelet, but I couldn’t even finish half of it.  I was just too anxious about the return journey.  So much could go wrong with over seven on the road (including stops).  Plenty did.  It was probably 9:15 AM by the time I was on the road.  I stopped at a gas station as soon as I left town, where they had air but no flag pins.  I pressurized the tire again and continued.  I only found one other gas station before I got to the border.  No luck.  I was about to get to the border when I saw the Manitoba welcome center on the other side of the road, so I did a U-turn to get there, which I’m sure would have looked suspicious to watchful eyes.  They had the “Manitoba Welcomes You” sign I had so desperately wanted to see two years ago, but they did not have flag pins inside.  Alright, another U-turn and on to Duty-free.  That was my last best chance for a flag pin.  I asked if they had Canada/Manitoba souvenirs.  She pointed me in the right direction.  There was a spinning display, where they clearly had pins.  There it was.  I grabbed it, held it to my mouth, and kissed the Manitoba flag pin I so desperately needed.  Excellent.  I bought three, along with a bottle of Crown Royal.  Okay, now it was time to cross the border.

There were two officers in the booth.  That was unusual.  Maybe they were doing training.  He asked me the usual questions and flipped through my passport for longer than usual.  I saw him pause on the page with the Iranian visa, and I knew that there would be nothing quick about this process.  He asked some more questions, including how I choose where to travel.  I told him that I like to go the UNESCO World Heritage Sites and explained what they were.  He asked what I went to see in Iran, and I told him I went to see the Persian ruins, all true.  A young male, travelling alone, with a scruffy beard, and passport stamps from Iran, UAE, and Muscat.  Like fuck I raised a red flag.  They closed the booth door, consulted for a bit, and sent me for a secondary.

They devoted four officers to the screening, with a fifth doing some consulting.  The lead officer was top notch, the fast-paced and sharp manner in which he asked the questions made me feel two things: nervous and safe.  I had nothing to hide, other than some Cubans, but I still felt nervous.  I felt safe because I knew that someone who did have something to hide would either break down or act suspicious under his questioning.  They asked lots of questions and took my phone and wallet and had me empty out my jacket pocket, which had eight Cubans, including the Canada Exclusivo I had planned to smoke as soon as I got that flag pin.  He asked if I could look through my phone.  I knew he was being polite.  I didn’t have a choice.  I hadn’t deleted any texts or logged out of social media, but, again, there was nothing on my phone to implicate me, just stuff to embarrass me.  However, he was just looking for photos.  He had asked me if I had any photos besides my tourist photos.  Well, I explained, as a joke, I take pictures of the bathroom fixtures that I use for my Official Us.  He said that was okay.

He then came back a bit later and asked me why there weren’t any pictures from Iran on the phone.  I told him that I back up my photos remotely every month or so to clear space.  I added that, under other circumstances, I would have gladly shared my photos with him.  I was beginning to genuinely like this guy.  Meanwhile, they were doing all sorts of inspections and tests on my car, bouncing it up and down, doing all sorts of swabs, looking for hidden compartments.  Of course, there was nothing to be found.  They soon said I was free to go, but I had to sign a slip of paper acknowledging the confiscation of eight Cuban cigars.  Ugh.

I was on my way, and I stopped for food and gas in Grand Forks, where I had to spend the night two years ago.  I stopped again for food and gas in Melrose, Minnesota, which had the turn-off for Lake Wobegon Trail.  The rest of the drive was unadventurous, until I hit some bad traffic.  It was serious stop and go traffic.  I was going 70 mph when the traffic in front of me came to a sudden standstill.  I slammed on the brakes and swerved to avoid the car in front of me.  It was too little, too late.  I clipped the back of his car, damaging my front bumper.  Fuck, it was the first time I had hit another car since I was 16.  I have driven close to 100,000 miles since then.

We pulled over to the side of the road, and I apologized and asked if everyone was all right.  They were.  We exchanged information, and they ascertained that their car was drivable.  My car was not.  The metal from the bumper was touching the front driver tire.  It would surely slice open the tire at speed.  I tried to pull the metal away with my hands, failing and cutting myself in the process.  The suckiest thing about all of this.  I was perfect on time at this point.  My GPS said an arrival time of before 5:30 PM, and I was only 40 miles from the airport.  I had already done 4000 miles of driving, including the miles my mother spent at the wheel.  Reader, that meant I had gone 99% of the trip, and this truly happened on the home stretch.  I asked the guy if he had any ideas.  He suggested that I use try to use a tire iron as a lever, and he found a lever and helped me.  It appeared to work.

We drove away, and I soon heard a scraping sound.  No, this wouldn’t play.  I pulled over at the next safe spot and got the lever again.  I used all my strength and was able to clear it.  The screeching sound was gone.  I made it to the airport.  I told Hertz what happened and filled out the paperwork.  They also said that they would adjust the price for taking the compact.  I checked in, dropped off my checked bag, headed through security, and went to my gate, only to find my flight delayed by 20 minutes.  The pilot was running late.  I sat down and proceeded to write the first entry.  I closed as the boarding began.  Once we took off, I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close and hopefully publish before we land.  It has been a great trip, and it truly will be the last one I take like this, at least until I start taking my family on their trips, and ain’t that a happy thought.  On that note, next stop: Hood River, Oregon for my brother’s wedding.