Our Road Trip was ending and all through the car,
The ladies were weary, ‘we’ve traveled so far!’
After driving through states of both mountain and plain,
We remembered our vaca and the knowledge we’ve gained.
The bars in Nashville had free drinks galore,
And sex-iled BB had to sleep on the floor.
Ribs in Memphis went down well in our pelvis
At Graceland Jihan realized her deep love for Elvis.
We combated the tornados in the flat lands,
And walked in the canyon through 20 miles of sand.
In Colorado we hiked and ate meat by the pound,
And enjoyed the free booze at the Cowboy Lounge.
Nebraska was crappy and Iowa was the bomb,
Due to Ameer’s generosity and Burke’s awesome mom.
In Chicago we were tourists like Ferris and Cameron,
And indulged in free cocktails from a drunk fat man.
We rocked in Cleveland while we rolled through the Midwest,
We went seeking huge burgers and found the very best.
Then we were nestled all snug in our beds
At Clearfield’s Hampton Inn with 2 bottles of red.
So now our trip is over and our blog is at the end,
Thank you for reading and for being great friends!
By the Numbers:
• Miles traveled: 5,945
• Gas breaks: 24
• States Visited: 19 (New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, Tennessee, Arkansas, Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, Colorado, Nebraska, Iowa, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio)
• Miles hiked in the Grand Canyon: 22
• Hours spent hiking in the Grand Canyon: 11
• Number of times BB wore her Dunce Cap: 6
• Total number of crosses: infinity
• Number of “Jesus” billboards: 300
• Number of “Adult XXX” billboards: 299
• Hookups: 2 (almost 3)
• Number of Confederate Flags seen: 5 (not enough!)
• Ounces of beef consumed: 175
• Memories: infinity
Superlatives:
• Best Stripclub: Amarillo’s pink modular home strip club at the end of an empty parking lot
• Best Stripclub NAME: Zippers in Okobiji,Iowa (Second place: Chubbie’s in Wisconsin)
• Last to the car every morning: Cragin
• Loudest in the morning: Jihan
• Champion of the “actors in random movies” game: Jennie
• Best sport for trying to adhere to her rules: BB
• Best at digging through the snacks to get to the cookies: Jihan
• Best at spooning Cragin every night of the trip: BB
Host Superlatives:
• Best activity planner and Colorado Springs advocate: Melissa – Colorado Springs
• Best Sangria-maker and most easily integrated into KP gang: Kirstin (and Sean) - Denver
• Most surprising: Judy – Iowa
• Most surprised: Molly - Chicago
• Most enthusiastic (and generous): Ameer - Iowa
• Friendliest (and Best Ride): Colin - Nashville
• Saintliest and most prepared: Jana – Little Rock
And finally readers, what you have all been waiting for…what BB stands for.
Because Jule has grown increasingly younger looking relative to the rest of us, and because she gets carded more nowadays than she has in the past, we have decided that she is actually aging backwards like…Benjamin Button. Everyone please get in your time with Jules before she is an Alzheimer’s-ridden toddler.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Born to Run….towards Denny’s
We departed the Windy City just in time to miss the 99-degree weather and departed for our drive through Illinois, Indiana and Ohio. As my friend Caroline who is from Indiana noted, “it is difficult to not fall asleep” during the drive. They weren’t the most interesting states and didn’t offer the high volume of “Adult XXX Superstore” and “Jesus Christ Is Your Savior not a Swearword” billboards that we had grown accustomed to seeing on our trip. However, these states offered a plethora of “Fireworks” billboards advertising everything from a sparkler to a nuclear bomb, clarifying why so many people still die during Fourth of July every year. God bless America.
We arrived in Cleveland, which was a surprising highlight. The city is large, clean, and right on Lake Erie, giving it some extraordinary waterside vistas. Pulling into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, we realized that the featured exhibition was actually on Bruce Springsteen, causing Jen and BB to leap with New Jersey fever, fasten on their acrylic nails and sprint towards the “Asbury Park” sign. We wandered through the museum, admiring what could be most readily compared to the largest collection of Hard Rock Café memorabilia in America. Learnings: Mick Jagger is TINY and Bruce Springsteen’s jeans were REALLY tight on the cover of Born in the USA.
Off to Pennsylvania in search of another piece of meat impossible to fit in Jennie’s purse, the 15 pound burger at (whodathunkit?) Denny’s Beer Barrel Pub in bustling Clearfield, Pennsylvania. (Note that this is the second Denny’s we’ve visited during the trip). Denny’s currently holds the world record for biggest burger in the USA, a 100 pounder but we were simply in search of a gigantic piece of meat for our road trip’s last evening. We found ‘em! After 3 gigantic burgers and enjoying the company of our neighboring patrons (all truckers), we headed back to get our final night’s rest.
We arrived in Cleveland, which was a surprising highlight. The city is large, clean, and right on Lake Erie, giving it some extraordinary waterside vistas. Pulling into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, we realized that the featured exhibition was actually on Bruce Springsteen, causing Jen and BB to leap with New Jersey fever, fasten on their acrylic nails and sprint towards the “Asbury Park” sign. We wandered through the museum, admiring what could be most readily compared to the largest collection of Hard Rock Café memorabilia in America. Learnings: Mick Jagger is TINY and Bruce Springsteen’s jeans were REALLY tight on the cover of Born in the USA.
Off to Pennsylvania in search of another piece of meat impossible to fit in Jennie’s purse, the 15 pound burger at (whodathunkit?) Denny’s Beer Barrel Pub in bustling Clearfield, Pennsylvania. (Note that this is the second Denny’s we’ve visited during the trip). Denny’s currently holds the world record for biggest burger in the USA, a 100 pounder but we were simply in search of a gigantic piece of meat for our road trip’s last evening. We found ‘em! After 3 gigantic burgers and enjoying the company of our neighboring patrons (all truckers), we headed back to get our final night’s rest.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
“Swinging” Thru Chicago
We departed Iowa after a delicious breakfast prepared lovingly by Judy and headed towards Chicago. We entered Minnesota (a place none of us thought we’d ever see) which conjured up memories of the Walsh twins and Brenda’s epic return to Minnesota for college. Thank god she transferred back to Beverly Hills, Minnesota was boring as sh*t. A pass through Wisconsin (the CHEESE state, which made BB gag) and we arrived in Chicago. Jihan was departing us here to get home and back to work on Monday (i.e. attend the Beyonce concert) and we exchanged hugs and kisses at the airport. After 2 weeks in the car, Jihan bounded into the airport elated and dreaming of “Single Ladies.” Adieu Jihan, you are sorely missed.
We arrived in Chicago where we met our host, Molly, who was gracious enough to take in 3 strangers because we were friends of Melissa. (We assume Melissa left out a few choice details about us and that’s why she agreed to it). The four of us went downtown in search of Chicago’s infamous deep dish pizza at Gino’s. A few beers and almost two heavenly slices later, we returned to Molly’s apartment early to crash for our fun-filled tourist day on Monday.
For our own version of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (BB’s Day Off), we hit all of the hotspots: the Sears Tower, Millennium Park and the Chicago River. BB was intent on seeing the “Married with Children fountain” so we combated the heat to hit up the Buckingham Fountain before to walking to Chicago’s premiere art museum, the Art Institute of Chicago. (Or as our tour guide BB called it, “The Art Institute of Art” – not quite BB). We held hands with a field trip and starred at the little girl in Seurat’s A Sunday on La Grande Jatte before heading towards the beachfront on Lake Michigan….the only thing missing was a red sports car…sigh.
As we walked down Michigan Avenue, admiring the shops and boutiques, BB commented that she hadn’t seen an “H2O” store in a long time and that their “graffiti soap” was the best. Cragin inquired as to how it worked, did you write on the walls of the bathtub and somehow it created bubbles? After looking confused and working it out slowly in her head, BB realized that she had meant to say “confetti” rather than “graffiti” once again forcing Cragin to be resentful of BB’s superior GMAT score….how the hell did that happen?
That evening we emerged freshly showered and headed towards the John Handcock building for a quick drink on the 96th floor during sunset before grabbing some dinner and having a quiet night. While Cragin was photographing the sunset next to some tables she got into a conversation with two gentlemen from Ohio who offered to by us all some drinks. After looking at the menu and realizing a cocktail was $14, we grabbed some chairs and joined them. The “gentlemen” were Paul and Nick from Canton, Ohio. Paul was an obese and slightly bigoted metal and plastics distributor who BB mistook for Santa Claus when she sat on his lap and asked for a pony. Nick was his son, a baby-faced 19 year old who sought love advise from Jen and Cragin (boy did he knock on the wrong door), and who proceeded to spit his dip into BB’s empty Bud Lite bottle. Paul explained his issue with having a teenage daughter dating older men, but not before he asked if he could “speak plainly?” “Sure!” We answered. “I don’t want them swinging their d*cks at her!” he said. And the night quickly went downhill. After 4-5 Dewars Paul informed us that “swearing is part of his accent” and we spent the next 3 hours swapping wildly inappropriate stories in front of his practically pre-pubescent and inordinately drunk child. After we had had our fill we thanked Paul for his moral undermining and stumbled off to a dinner we don’t remember and to crash in beds we think were ours. Cheers Chicago!
We arrived in Chicago where we met our host, Molly, who was gracious enough to take in 3 strangers because we were friends of Melissa. (We assume Melissa left out a few choice details about us and that’s why she agreed to it). The four of us went downtown in search of Chicago’s infamous deep dish pizza at Gino’s. A few beers and almost two heavenly slices later, we returned to Molly’s apartment early to crash for our fun-filled tourist day on Monday.
For our own version of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (BB’s Day Off), we hit all of the hotspots: the Sears Tower, Millennium Park and the Chicago River. BB was intent on seeing the “Married with Children fountain” so we combated the heat to hit up the Buckingham Fountain before to walking to Chicago’s premiere art museum, the Art Institute of Chicago. (Or as our tour guide BB called it, “The Art Institute of Art” – not quite BB). We held hands with a field trip and starred at the little girl in Seurat’s A Sunday on La Grande Jatte before heading towards the beachfront on Lake Michigan….the only thing missing was a red sports car…sigh.
As we walked down Michigan Avenue, admiring the shops and boutiques, BB commented that she hadn’t seen an “H2O” store in a long time and that their “graffiti soap” was the best. Cragin inquired as to how it worked, did you write on the walls of the bathtub and somehow it created bubbles? After looking confused and working it out slowly in her head, BB realized that she had meant to say “confetti” rather than “graffiti” once again forcing Cragin to be resentful of BB’s superior GMAT score….how the hell did that happen?
That evening we emerged freshly showered and headed towards the John Handcock building for a quick drink on the 96th floor during sunset before grabbing some dinner and having a quiet night. While Cragin was photographing the sunset next to some tables she got into a conversation with two gentlemen from Ohio who offered to by us all some drinks. After looking at the menu and realizing a cocktail was $14, we grabbed some chairs and joined them. The “gentlemen” were Paul and Nick from Canton, Ohio. Paul was an obese and slightly bigoted metal and plastics distributor who BB mistook for Santa Claus when she sat on his lap and asked for a pony. Nick was his son, a baby-faced 19 year old who sought love advise from Jen and Cragin (boy did he knock on the wrong door), and who proceeded to spit his dip into BB’s empty Bud Lite bottle. Paul explained his issue with having a teenage daughter dating older men, but not before he asked if he could “speak plainly?” “Sure!” We answered. “I don’t want them swinging their d*cks at her!” he said. And the night quickly went downhill. After 4-5 Dewars Paul informed us that “swearing is part of his accent” and we spent the next 3 hours swapping wildly inappropriate stories in front of his practically pre-pubescent and inordinately drunk child. After we had had our fill we thanked Paul for his moral undermining and stumbled off to a dinner we don’t remember and to crash in beds we think were ours. Cheers Chicago!
Monday, June 22, 2009
IOWA….You can do whatever the f*ck you want
We departed Denver early to begin what would turn out to be our most boring drive yet, with one small highlight being our passage through “Julesberg” (For the purposes of this blog this can be referred to as BBberg). Jen astutely commented that this was what BB’s Jewish name would be and we all had a good shiksa laugh. After leaving Colorado, the majority of our day would be spent driving through the middle of Nebraska towards South Dakota and Iowa. (Readers from Nebraska please skip ahead).
Little did we know that Nebraska not only looks like sh*t, but also pathologically smells like sh*t. After we passed the second “farm” (aka slaughterhouse) where the smell of dead cow pervaded the car for at least 5 extra miles, we became immune to the smell of death and continued trucking. BB, Jen and Cragin used these long hours to fill Jihan in on our would-be host for the evening, Ameer, a friend from Middlebury. After regaling Jihan with some choice memories of less-than appropriate nights at college, Jihan dismissed us as complete exaggerators.
We entered Iowa (significantly better than Nebraska and most notably marked by a large man made of tires at the Sioux City limits), met up with Ameer and his friend John, and instantly our descriptions rang true. After a 2 hour drive to Okoboji Lake in Northern Iowa (did YOU know there were lakes in Iowa?) we arrived at Ameer’s lake house. Or, what we thought was Ameer’s lake house. Ameer snuck into the conversation that this house wasn’t actually his, but rather, Burke’s (see previous Colorado posting). Also, Burke wasn’t going to be there, but his MOTHER, Judy, would be. The evening devolved quite quickly after that.
Judy, the self-proclaimed “eternal DD” dropped us off at Maxwell’s, a lakeside restaurant where we were the youngest but NOT the rowdiest. A few manhattans, mojitos and bottles of wine later, we left drunk and full to check out the local bar scene. We arrived at Charlie’s where we weren’t the youngest but we were the drunkest and proceed to drink them out of SoCo and beer. A rock band was performing but Jihan was in the mood for more metrosexual 80’s pop and shook her assets at the keyboardist until he listened to her ask, “Do you know any George Michael?” He simply put his ear phones back on and shook his head, ridiculing her with judgment. Defeated, she returned to the bar to find the 5 of us staring at Ameer’s newly grown stomach, which BB was massaging. More shots and one “Living on a Prayer” song later, we hopped in a cab to return to Casa Burke.
Ameer ran into the house screaming at Judy to make us “Bacon and eggs! Judy! Bacon and eggs!” a la Will Ferrell in Old School (“Mom! Mealoaf!). Luckily Judy was staying elsewhere but had left the fridge fully stocked with Miller Lite. After some private time in Ameer and Burke’s bachelor pad (“love den”),and having left John to pray to the porcelain god, we stumbled down to the docks where Ameer mused that the state slogan of Iowa should be changed from the “Buckeye State” to: “Iowa…you can do whatever the f*ck you want.” We suggested he write some legislation and get it passed, because in Iowa….we did.
Little did we know that Nebraska not only looks like sh*t, but also pathologically smells like sh*t. After we passed the second “farm” (aka slaughterhouse) where the smell of dead cow pervaded the car for at least 5 extra miles, we became immune to the smell of death and continued trucking. BB, Jen and Cragin used these long hours to fill Jihan in on our would-be host for the evening, Ameer, a friend from Middlebury. After regaling Jihan with some choice memories of less-than appropriate nights at college, Jihan dismissed us as complete exaggerators.
We entered Iowa (significantly better than Nebraska and most notably marked by a large man made of tires at the Sioux City limits), met up with Ameer and his friend John, and instantly our descriptions rang true. After a 2 hour drive to Okoboji Lake in Northern Iowa (did YOU know there were lakes in Iowa?) we arrived at Ameer’s lake house. Or, what we thought was Ameer’s lake house. Ameer snuck into the conversation that this house wasn’t actually his, but rather, Burke’s (see previous Colorado posting). Also, Burke wasn’t going to be there, but his MOTHER, Judy, would be. The evening devolved quite quickly after that.
Judy, the self-proclaimed “eternal DD” dropped us off at Maxwell’s, a lakeside restaurant where we were the youngest but NOT the rowdiest. A few manhattans, mojitos and bottles of wine later, we left drunk and full to check out the local bar scene. We arrived at Charlie’s where we weren’t the youngest but we were the drunkest and proceed to drink them out of SoCo and beer. A rock band was performing but Jihan was in the mood for more metrosexual 80’s pop and shook her assets at the keyboardist until he listened to her ask, “Do you know any George Michael?” He simply put his ear phones back on and shook his head, ridiculing her with judgment. Defeated, she returned to the bar to find the 5 of us staring at Ameer’s newly grown stomach, which BB was massaging. More shots and one “Living on a Prayer” song later, we hopped in a cab to return to Casa Burke.
Ameer ran into the house screaming at Judy to make us “Bacon and eggs! Judy! Bacon and eggs!” a la Will Ferrell in Old School (“Mom! Mealoaf!). Luckily Judy was staying elsewhere but had left the fridge fully stocked with Miller Lite. After some private time in Ameer and Burke’s bachelor pad (“love den”),and having left John to pray to the porcelain god, we stumbled down to the docks where Ameer mused that the state slogan of Iowa should be changed from the “Buckeye State” to: “Iowa…you can do whatever the f*ck you want.” We suggested he write some legislation and get it passed, because in Iowa….we did.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
ROCKPILE AND JUDY’S SON
Turns out another thing they give you for free at the Cowboy Lounge is a raging hangover and nausea. We had a nice sleep in on Friday and took our time getting ready before exploring downtown Denver and meeting Middlebury friend Burke (Judy's son)for lunch. Cragin said a quick hello before heading to the restaurant restroom and shaking hands with Jack Daniels again. She returned to the table feeling like a new woman.
After some of Denver’s notorious buffalo burgers, we wandered around the Lodo area and the 16th street mall before heading back to get ready for the Rockies Game. After meeting up with some more Middlebury friends (Meghan and Emily) as well as our incredibly fun host Kirstin, we entered the stadium and headed towards our seats in the Rockpile. As usual, we weren’t there to actually watch the game, but rather to drink beer and eat hot dogs which Jihan demonstrated when she asked during the 5th inning if we were at a major or minor league game. Cragin also spent a few minutes explaining to her what a short stop was. After a few beers (and apparently 9 innings), the Rockies were victorious and we were buzzed.
We popped over to the Wynkoop Brewery for a few beers and to give Kirstin adequate time to recruit Melissa’s boyfriend Kyle as a new male friend for her boyfriend Sean. Her hard sell was that they both enjoy football (which Sean is allowed to watch in the basement of their house). Hopefully they’ll have some male bonding in the future. Kyle was also introduced to the power of late night Kent Place girls conversations when Melissa started to mention new ideas for their future OT and PT rotations. “Is this the brainwashing I missed when I went to bed early the other night?” Kyle asked. Yes sir, never underestimate the power of girls getting philosophical at 3 a.m. after a few bottles of wine and 5 beers. Sorry Kyle.
After some of Denver’s notorious buffalo burgers, we wandered around the Lodo area and the 16th street mall before heading back to get ready for the Rockies Game. After meeting up with some more Middlebury friends (Meghan and Emily) as well as our incredibly fun host Kirstin, we entered the stadium and headed towards our seats in the Rockpile. As usual, we weren’t there to actually watch the game, but rather to drink beer and eat hot dogs which Jihan demonstrated when she asked during the 5th inning if we were at a major or minor league game. Cragin also spent a few minutes explaining to her what a short stop was. After a few beers (and apparently 9 innings), the Rockies were victorious and we were buzzed.
We popped over to the Wynkoop Brewery for a few beers and to give Kirstin adequate time to recruit Melissa’s boyfriend Kyle as a new male friend for her boyfriend Sean. Her hard sell was that they both enjoy football (which Sean is allowed to watch in the basement of their house). Hopefully they’ll have some male bonding in the future. Kyle was also introduced to the power of late night Kent Place girls conversations when Melissa started to mention new ideas for their future OT and PT rotations. “Is this the brainwashing I missed when I went to bed early the other night?” Kyle asked. Yes sir, never underestimate the power of girls getting philosophical at 3 a.m. after a few bottles of wine and 5 beers. Sorry Kyle.
MIRACLE ON AIR
We kidnapped Melissa and drove the 1 ½ hours to Denver for a honkey tonk night on the town. Stop one was dinner at Lola’s a Mexican fusion restaurant in the trendy Lodo area of the city. World’s collided as we met up with Emily, a Middlebury friend of Jen, BB and Cragin as well as Cragin’s friend Sasha from her stint in Germany. Turns out worlds colliding is smooth sailing when lubricated with pitchers of sangria. After a satisfying meal and complete with our new cowboy hats but leaving BB’s dunce cap at home, BB, Cragin and Jen set off in search of line dancing and cowboys.
Emily dropped us off at the Cowboy Lounge where women drink for free on Thursday nights. Ding Ding Ding Jackpot! Poor Matt (Cragin’s friend from home) was stuck paying $6 for magnum-sized cans of Busch while the beer, vodka and whiskey flowed into our awaiting mouths for free. Copious amounts of alcohol later, we found ourselves sidestepping vomit on the dancefloor and rocking out to “She Thinks my Tractor is Sexy” with the best of ‘em. Yee haw.
As the Cowboy Lounge turned sloppy about 13 free drinks later BB ventured to the bathroom where she was greeted by the most gregarious bathroom attendant ever, who weighed about 300 pounds and looked La Fawndah. She took an instant liking to BB, who, panicked, brought up the lack of air conditioning. “I know!!” La Fawndah cheered, “My hair would be frizzy if it wasn’t artificial!” Wow.
Next stop was a sports bar and after some shots, we found ourselves on the air hockey table. Cragin and BB competed first and discovered that motor skills are indeed hindered after a case of beer. A few rounds later, it was the championship round between BB and Jen (who somehow managed to be the drunkest person in the bar and have a cracker jack slap shot). Despite an extreme comeback, BB lost by one point to Jen “Right Arm” LaRosa and once again demonstrated her completely inability to lose gracefully. She was only able to take solace in the fact that Jen woke up on Friday with a “sports injury” and sore forearm from her victory. BB reveled in her misery as only a Muir could.
Emily dropped us off at the Cowboy Lounge where women drink for free on Thursday nights. Ding Ding Ding Jackpot! Poor Matt (Cragin’s friend from home) was stuck paying $6 for magnum-sized cans of Busch while the beer, vodka and whiskey flowed into our awaiting mouths for free. Copious amounts of alcohol later, we found ourselves sidestepping vomit on the dancefloor and rocking out to “She Thinks my Tractor is Sexy” with the best of ‘em. Yee haw.
As the Cowboy Lounge turned sloppy about 13 free drinks later BB ventured to the bathroom where she was greeted by the most gregarious bathroom attendant ever, who weighed about 300 pounds and looked La Fawndah. She took an instant liking to BB, who, panicked, brought up the lack of air conditioning. “I know!!” La Fawndah cheered, “My hair would be frizzy if it wasn’t artificial!” Wow.
Next stop was a sports bar and after some shots, we found ourselves on the air hockey table. Cragin and BB competed first and discovered that motor skills are indeed hindered after a case of beer. A few rounds later, it was the championship round between BB and Jen (who somehow managed to be the drunkest person in the bar and have a cracker jack slap shot). Despite an extreme comeback, BB lost by one point to Jen “Right Arm” LaRosa and once again demonstrated her completely inability to lose gracefully. She was only able to take solace in the fact that Jen woke up on Friday with a “sports injury” and sore forearm from her victory. BB reveled in her misery as only a Muir could.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
X MARKS THE SPOT…..WELL....NOT QUITE
SORE. That’s what we were Wednesday morning…..SORE. Parts of our bodies that had been hibernating for years suddenly awoke and decided to render us practically paralyzed by pain. Our 12 hour drive from Flagstaff to Colorado Springs was sprinkled with some very arduous trips to the restroom causing the gas station attendants to think that the geriatric unit of the local hospital was going on a field trip.
No road trip would be complete without a trip to an inane tourist trap that means very little but seems like a “must-stop.” We gladly drove 45 minutes out of the way to visit the Four Corners – the intersection of Utah, Colorado, Arizona and New Mexico. We also wanted to add another state to our list of “visited” during the tenure of this trip. We pulled off and paid $3 EACH (what a racket) to stand over a metal circle with some state names on it. The other visitors included some bikers, senior citizens, and a family of at least 10,000 kids and two parents who looked like they were just shy of their 14th birthdays who were carting their herd around in a 15 passenger van. We couldn’t have asked for better birth control. We jumped in the car to head east along the Southern border of Colorado but not before we learned that the Four Corners monument is actually 20 yards from the actual border intersection, foiled again.
Southern Colorado was beautiful, and home to the UTE Native American reservation as well as the UTE Mountains. This brought up “My Cousin Vinnie” once again – “WHAT IS A UTE?” Jihan “Lead Foot” Quail dreamt of Joe Piscopo as she drove 90 miles an hour to get us to Melissa’s house by 10 p.m. where homemade fajitas and beers were waiting. Heaven.
Thursday we explored Colorado Springs and despite Melissa’s efforts, did NOT do the extremely strenuous hike she had planned for us. We agreed that if we hiked again in the next year, it would be too soon. We ventured to the Garden of the Gods – a unique rock formation complete with a museum East of town. In addition to the samples of local wildlife feces, $5 bought us an interactive video explaining the evolution of rock formations (Jennie’s porn). We drove through the formations and pulled over to take a photo. A man wearing leather chaps approached Cragin, “Isn’t it just spectacular?” he mused. Cragin nodded and wandered away realizing that she had found the biker with a heart of gold.
No road trip would be complete without a trip to an inane tourist trap that means very little but seems like a “must-stop.” We gladly drove 45 minutes out of the way to visit the Four Corners – the intersection of Utah, Colorado, Arizona and New Mexico. We also wanted to add another state to our list of “visited” during the tenure of this trip. We pulled off and paid $3 EACH (what a racket) to stand over a metal circle with some state names on it. The other visitors included some bikers, senior citizens, and a family of at least 10,000 kids and two parents who looked like they were just shy of their 14th birthdays who were carting their herd around in a 15 passenger van. We couldn’t have asked for better birth control. We jumped in the car to head east along the Southern border of Colorado but not before we learned that the Four Corners monument is actually 20 yards from the actual border intersection, foiled again.
Southern Colorado was beautiful, and home to the UTE Native American reservation as well as the UTE Mountains. This brought up “My Cousin Vinnie” once again – “WHAT IS A UTE?” Jihan “Lead Foot” Quail dreamt of Joe Piscopo as she drove 90 miles an hour to get us to Melissa’s house by 10 p.m. where homemade fajitas and beers were waiting. Heaven.
Thursday we explored Colorado Springs and despite Melissa’s efforts, did NOT do the extremely strenuous hike she had planned for us. We agreed that if we hiked again in the next year, it would be too soon. We ventured to the Garden of the Gods – a unique rock formation complete with a museum East of town. In addition to the samples of local wildlife feces, $5 bought us an interactive video explaining the evolution of rock formations (Jennie’s porn). We drove through the formations and pulled over to take a photo. A man wearing leather chaps approached Cragin, “Isn’t it just spectacular?” he mused. Cragin nodded and wandered away realizing that she had found the biker with a heart of gold.
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