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.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time
We arrived at the Hualapai Hilltop around 615 a.m. to prepare for our hike. The day started with a “kurplunk” as Jen and Cragin ventured to the trail head port-a-potties for a much needed pee. (Readers, please note that the only thing that makes a port-a-potty tolerable is the anonymity. You don’t know who has been in it and you don’t want to know. You have to go and this is your only option.) Our experience was marred by the fact that there were 2 Chris Farley-looking men dropping off the kids in the stalls before us. For some reason (maybe guys will understand this?) they were talking to each other between the johns. Apparently Fat Man #1 was saying something truly important and Fat Man #2- not realizing that Jen and Cragin were standing there) opened the door in an effort to hear. When you see who has been in there before you, your port-a-potty experience becomes exponentially worse. We bathed in Purell before beginning our descent.
The hike was described as “long but not particularly challenging.” Armed with lots of water, hiking Goo and trail mix, we had faith in our youth and physical fitness. It turned out to be 10 miles to our ultimate destination, the Havasupai Falls outside of the Supai Indian Village at the bottom of the canyon. The hike was beautiful, winding between various rock structures and leading us through cave-like vestibules. JIhan expressed her personal excitement by stating: “I feel like Dora the Explorer!” Apparently hiking makes Jihan feel like a 7-year old Hispanic girl. We arrived at the Supai Village which consisted of signs for a non existent store and a welcome center. We continue down the trail and suddenly came upon Havasupai Falls, our ultimate destination. The spring-fed waterfall was stunningly gorgeous and provided a swimming hole for us to jump into. After 2 hours frolicking in the pools and napping on the picnic tables, we began our long trek back.
The trail was significantly longer than we remembered from a few hours earlier. BB fought the urge to use her “Go Girl” urinating tool, a road trip gift for all of us from Mother BB. When we opened the package to discover that the Go Girl was little more than a strap-on with a hole, BB elected to join all of us in the bushes. On the way down, we failed to realize just how long and physically draining the way back was going to be or how incredibly dirty we were getting. The red dust of the trail had become ingrained in our hair, teeth and skin causing Cragin to exclaim that she wanted to “Wet One herself”- obviously referring to using the moist towelette brand but accidentally painting a fairly obscene picture for everyone. We ventured on.
After almost 5 ½ hours and 1.5 miles straight uphill, we arrived at the hilltop beaten and battered having finished one of the most physically demanding days of our collective lives. In the car, Jihan made the mistake of taking a whiff of herself, “I just smelled myself…..and it was….upsetting,” she proclaimed. Just as upsetting, however, as BB’s forgetting to hydrate effectively and getting a “hiking hangover” in the car ride to the hotel. Armed with a coke and 4 gallons of water, she made her way to the hotel room while the three of us, ravenous from burning almost 3,000 calories and eating 5 made our way to the only place that could effectively satiate us, DENNY’S. Never having frequented this particular establishment before, we ordered half the menu and waited for our meal. A sampler platter, 2 turkey sandwiches and a burger later, we arrived back in Flagstaff to cleanse ourselves of the "unholy amount of dirt" on our bodies. Clean, full and paralyzed by soreness, we laid down our heads for a great night's sleep.
"We DOMINATED the Grand Canyon today" - Jihan
The hike was described as “long but not particularly challenging.” Armed with lots of water, hiking Goo and trail mix, we had faith in our youth and physical fitness. It turned out to be 10 miles to our ultimate destination, the Havasupai Falls outside of the Supai Indian Village at the bottom of the canyon. The hike was beautiful, winding between various rock structures and leading us through cave-like vestibules. JIhan expressed her personal excitement by stating: “I feel like Dora the Explorer!” Apparently hiking makes Jihan feel like a 7-year old Hispanic girl. We arrived at the Supai Village which consisted of signs for a non existent store and a welcome center. We continue down the trail and suddenly came upon Havasupai Falls, our ultimate destination. The spring-fed waterfall was stunningly gorgeous and provided a swimming hole for us to jump into. After 2 hours frolicking in the pools and napping on the picnic tables, we began our long trek back.
The trail was significantly longer than we remembered from a few hours earlier. BB fought the urge to use her “Go Girl” urinating tool, a road trip gift for all of us from Mother BB. When we opened the package to discover that the Go Girl was little more than a strap-on with a hole, BB elected to join all of us in the bushes. On the way down, we failed to realize just how long and physically draining the way back was going to be or how incredibly dirty we were getting. The red dust of the trail had become ingrained in our hair, teeth and skin causing Cragin to exclaim that she wanted to “Wet One herself”- obviously referring to using the moist towelette brand but accidentally painting a fairly obscene picture for everyone. We ventured on.
After almost 5 ½ hours and 1.5 miles straight uphill, we arrived at the hilltop beaten and battered having finished one of the most physically demanding days of our collective lives. In the car, Jihan made the mistake of taking a whiff of herself, “I just smelled myself…..and it was….upsetting,” she proclaimed. Just as upsetting, however, as BB’s forgetting to hydrate effectively and getting a “hiking hangover” in the car ride to the hotel. Armed with a coke and 4 gallons of water, she made her way to the hotel room while the three of us, ravenous from burning almost 3,000 calories and eating 5 made our way to the only place that could effectively satiate us, DENNY’S. Never having frequented this particular establishment before, we ordered half the menu and waited for our meal. A sampler platter, 2 turkey sandwiches and a burger later, we arrived back in Flagstaff to cleanse ourselves of the "unholy amount of dirt" on our bodies. Clean, full and paralyzed by soreness, we laid down our heads for a great night's sleep.
"We DOMINATED the Grand Canyon today" - Jihan
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Rock on Baby Girl
First stop today was Sedona, approximately a 45-minute drive from Flagstaff and infamous for its mystic “energy vortexes” or, as the tourist office worker stated, “crazy hippie sh*t.” Though he doubted the vortexes’ power, we did not because while heading back to the car to drive around the area, we ran into Russell and Betsy, our newly married friends on their honeymoon. Of all the parking lots in all the world, they had to walk into this one. We laughed at the coincidence and promptly jumped into the car. Go forth and consummate Bussell.
Sedona was stunningly beautiful, offering scenic beauty and interesting rock formations (Jennie’s personal mecca). BB was particularly excited about a spindly tower formation that looked like “lady’s fingers.” In actuality it looked more like BB’s hands and/or an advanced case of carpal tunnel in an elderly man. Another formation reminded Cragin of a baby arm. Sleep deprived much? We also passed a street dubbed Disney Lane and thought of Jason. Ironically it was also a dead end. Jason, please reread this sentence few times.
We left Sedona for the Grand Canyon and arrived with a few hours to explore before the sunset. A brief stop at the Grand Canyon General Store (which looked like a 7-11 until you entered and it morphed into a Super Delux Walmart) to get ice for our champagne (Priority #1). We ventured to our first viewing point and were instantly captivated. Its dimensions were mind-blowing and we felt like we were staring into a movie set. We stumbled upon a bevy of young Indian men who requested that we take a photo of them. Cragin grabbed the camera and before she could figure out the zoom, the group was kneeling (apparently a desirable position for a group photo in India). Cragin exclaimed, “I’m not used to having men on their knees so soon after meeting me!” which prompted a giggle (likely out of a lack of translation) and we continued our exploration of the rim. Factor in some champagne and a sunset and our experience was complete. The Grand Canyon’s splendor wasn’t lost on us and we relished this quintessential American experience.
The powerful vortexes of Sedona were apparently at work in the canyon as well because during our shuttle bus ride back to the parking lot, Jen spotted Ann Wood, the alumni relations director for the Kent Place School on our bus. Suddenly worlds again collided. In an effort to get herself into the school’s alumni newsletter again (thanks Suz!), Cragin acted as if she were a member of the alumni as well. “It is so great to see all four of you!” Ann Wood exclaimed! See the next issue of Keeping Pace for the photo of the 5 of us.
Next stop was the Grand Canyon Caverns Inn (the word Inn is generous) which reminded us all of Deliverance. The friendly and certifiable “Inn” owner had forgotten to take her sleeping pills but had remembered to crazy pills and while affirming our directions to her establishment said to BB, “You got it! Rock on babygirl!” before launching into a 10 minute diatribe. Luckily we were only to be there for four hours as the next day was to be our 5 a.m. hike to Havasupai Falls. We drove to our door (yup, I said that) but not before passing a lone van where a large albino man was on his computer, presumably watching porn. ”We are putting a chair against the door tonight, we are not going to make a big deal about it, we are just going to slide it in here.” exclaimed Jihan. After barricading the door, we settled in for a short night’s rest.
Sedona was stunningly beautiful, offering scenic beauty and interesting rock formations (Jennie’s personal mecca). BB was particularly excited about a spindly tower formation that looked like “lady’s fingers.” In actuality it looked more like BB’s hands and/or an advanced case of carpal tunnel in an elderly man. Another formation reminded Cragin of a baby arm. Sleep deprived much? We also passed a street dubbed Disney Lane and thought of Jason. Ironically it was also a dead end. Jason, please reread this sentence few times.
We left Sedona for the Grand Canyon and arrived with a few hours to explore before the sunset. A brief stop at the Grand Canyon General Store (which looked like a 7-11 until you entered and it morphed into a Super Delux Walmart) to get ice for our champagne (Priority #1). We ventured to our first viewing point and were instantly captivated. Its dimensions were mind-blowing and we felt like we were staring into a movie set. We stumbled upon a bevy of young Indian men who requested that we take a photo of them. Cragin grabbed the camera and before she could figure out the zoom, the group was kneeling (apparently a desirable position for a group photo in India). Cragin exclaimed, “I’m not used to having men on their knees so soon after meeting me!” which prompted a giggle (likely out of a lack of translation) and we continued our exploration of the rim. Factor in some champagne and a sunset and our experience was complete. The Grand Canyon’s splendor wasn’t lost on us and we relished this quintessential American experience.
The powerful vortexes of Sedona were apparently at work in the canyon as well because during our shuttle bus ride back to the parking lot, Jen spotted Ann Wood, the alumni relations director for the Kent Place School on our bus. Suddenly worlds again collided. In an effort to get herself into the school’s alumni newsletter again (thanks Suz!), Cragin acted as if she were a member of the alumni as well. “It is so great to see all four of you!” Ann Wood exclaimed! See the next issue of Keeping Pace for the photo of the 5 of us.
Next stop was the Grand Canyon Caverns Inn (the word Inn is generous) which reminded us all of Deliverance. The friendly and certifiable “Inn” owner had forgotten to take her sleeping pills but had remembered to crazy pills and while affirming our directions to her establishment said to BB, “You got it! Rock on babygirl!” before launching into a 10 minute diatribe. Luckily we were only to be there for four hours as the next day was to be our 5 a.m. hike to Havasupai Falls. We drove to our door (yup, I said that) but not before passing a lone van where a large albino man was on his computer, presumably watching porn. ”We are putting a chair against the door tonight, we are not going to make a big deal about it, we are just going to slide it in here.” exclaimed Jihan. After barricading the door, we settled in for a short night’s rest.
No Country for Fake Dinosaurs
We woke up early complete with The Big Texan’s complimentary meat sweats to explore “old Amarillo” before making the long haul through New Mexico to Flagstaff, Arizona. Lonley planet described “old Amarillo” in the following way: “The old route 66 in Amarillo is most-character filled along W. 6th Avenue, also known as the San Jacinto District. Shop fronts from the 1920’s have everything from burgers and beer to books, hardware and antiques for sale.” In actuality it is more reminiscent of the storefronts outside of the Secaucus train station, “advertising everything from pawn shops to porn”. We locked the doors and headed out of town.
The plains turned quite suddenly into desert and we stopped in Santa Fe for a delicious Mexican lunch, to check out the “country’s oldest house” and some shopping. Inspired by the ol’Western themed shoppes, Jihan, Cragin and Jen purchased cowboy hats for our foray into Arizona and Colorado. BB resisted the urge but after her arm was twisted, jumped on the bandwagon. Her hat turned out to be 3 times more expensive than everyone elses, a perennial problem for BB in life. BB’s cowboy hat quickly devolved into her dunce cap as she broke a few of her rules, namely NO SINGING and NO YODELING. When these rules are broken BB must wear the cowboy hat for 1 minute. It is most reminiscent of a physiological experiment in learned helplessness.
We departed Santa Fe for Flagstaff and played some rousing games of 20 questions (with some choice subjects including a part of BB’s anatomy and JIhan’s dream man, Toy Story’s Woody). Pulling off to refuel and relieve ourselves, we entered “No Country for Old Men” where a lone cowboy smoked a personally-rolled cigarette looking surly and brooding as our huge NJ-plated Lexus pulled in. Our cowboy
stood up, stomped out his cigarette and stated, “You girls sure are a long ways from home” before riding off into the sunset. Thanks Clint Eastwood, we sure are.
The ride through New Mexico and Arizona is colored with useless tourist sh*t. Signs for 50 miles advertised a “Dinosaur Park” prompting BB to call her sister to check if it was the park from “The Wizard” (a 1987 film starring Fred Savage). Sadly, that park is located in California but this one surely didn’t disappoint. The “park” consisted of approximately 3 Paper Mache Dinosaurs presumably created by the owner’s daughter in 1995. The mechanical feat of the park was that the T-Rex’s head moved but since this was the same engineering employed to make those bobble-headed dogs on people’s dashboards move, we didn’t feel compelled to pull over.
We entered Arizona and were immediately introduced to the states penchant for firework and knife outlet billboards, the most clever of these being, “SHARP DEALS ON KNIVES AND SWORDS.” 9 hours into the drive and hopped up on Sudafed to combat the cold we are passing each other, Cragin made the mistake of commenting that the sunset had gone from looking red to looking yellow in a matter of minutes. BB astutely asked, “Did you just take your sunglasses off?” Cragin sheepishly admitted that BB was right and vowed to stop talking for the duration of the trip to Flagstaff. After ordering from the “best Chinese place in Flagstaff” (not a complement) we went to sleep to the sweet sounds of Whoopi Goldberg singing 1960’s hits in “Sister Act.” We may not be movie stars, but when it comes to being happy, we are.
The plains turned quite suddenly into desert and we stopped in Santa Fe for a delicious Mexican lunch, to check out the “country’s oldest house” and some shopping. Inspired by the ol’Western themed shoppes, Jihan, Cragin and Jen purchased cowboy hats for our foray into Arizona and Colorado. BB resisted the urge but after her arm was twisted, jumped on the bandwagon. Her hat turned out to be 3 times more expensive than everyone elses, a perennial problem for BB in life. BB’s cowboy hat quickly devolved into her dunce cap as she broke a few of her rules, namely NO SINGING and NO YODELING. When these rules are broken BB must wear the cowboy hat for 1 minute. It is most reminiscent of a physiological experiment in learned helplessness.
We departed Santa Fe for Flagstaff and played some rousing games of 20 questions (with some choice subjects including a part of BB’s anatomy and JIhan’s dream man, Toy Story’s Woody). Pulling off to refuel and relieve ourselves, we entered “No Country for Old Men” where a lone cowboy smoked a personally-rolled cigarette looking surly and brooding as our huge NJ-plated Lexus pulled in. Our cowboy
stood up, stomped out his cigarette and stated, “You girls sure are a long ways from home” before riding off into the sunset. Thanks Clint Eastwood, we sure are.
The ride through New Mexico and Arizona is colored with useless tourist sh*t. Signs for 50 miles advertised a “Dinosaur Park” prompting BB to call her sister to check if it was the park from “The Wizard” (a 1987 film starring Fred Savage). Sadly, that park is located in California but this one surely didn’t disappoint. The “park” consisted of approximately 3 Paper Mache Dinosaurs presumably created by the owner’s daughter in 1995. The mechanical feat of the park was that the T-Rex’s head moved but since this was the same engineering employed to make those bobble-headed dogs on people’s dashboards move, we didn’t feel compelled to pull over.
We entered Arizona and were immediately introduced to the states penchant for firework and knife outlet billboards, the most clever of these being, “SHARP DEALS ON KNIVES AND SWORDS.” 9 hours into the drive and hopped up on Sudafed to combat the cold we are passing each other, Cragin made the mistake of commenting that the sunset had gone from looking red to looking yellow in a matter of minutes. BB astutely asked, “Did you just take your sunglasses off?” Cragin sheepishly admitted that BB was right and vowed to stop talking for the duration of the trip to Flagstaff. After ordering from the “best Chinese place in Flagstaff” (not a complement) we went to sleep to the sweet sounds of Whoopi Goldberg singing 1960’s hits in “Sister Act.” We may not be movie stars, but when it comes to being happy, we are.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
You Really Can't Fit a 72 oz Burger in Your Purse
Saturday night began like any other night in Amarillo Texas. The chain stores were buzzing and the tourists were slowly finding their way to the most ridiculous place on earth, The Big Texan Steakhouse. We got ready with our expandable pants and loose shirts, we headed out of the hotel into the car to begin our fateful night vs the 72 oz steak.
The night began with a bang when BB took the driver’s seat and Jen politely asked “Jul..hold up a sec. I just gotta get something out of the trunk.” “OK, no problem” BB replied. And then she forgot about the interaction even quicker than it took Cragin to burn her slice and bake cookies senior year (yes..about 5 minutes). As Jen was rummaging through the back, Cragin began to say, as BB stepped on the gas “Don’t forget about Jennie-OOOO.” Pictures to follow.
Having escaped the parking lot, everyone unscathed, we headed into the direction of The Big Texan Steakhouse. Pulling into the parking lot was quite a site to see, especially given that a large scale skinny cowboy, likened to Woody in Toy Story, was hovering over the sign. Jihan quickly exclaimed that her Top 5 (list of guys she wants to get to know biblically) had now been rounded out and we proceeded in, unsurprised. Adorning the restaurant was a pool in the shape of Texas, a limo with bull horns on the hood, Big Broadway lights advertising the Free 72 oz steak, and an attached Ole West themed Hotel with guests that were the very reason we do not live in Amarillo, TX. After taking MANY pictures with the surrounding scenery, we went inside like kids in a candy store ready for our prize.
The Outside had NOTHING on the inside. With décor resembling Jason’s father’s apt in Miami, dead animals lined the walls, floors, and ceilings. Cowhide table clothes and cowboy hats galore. We were seated rather quickly and even faster became friends with our waitress, Annie. To our great dissatisfaction, she explained that if we were to order the 72 oz steak for our table it would cost us a whopping $200, which was more than we were willing to spend in this obvious upscale restaurant. Even though we decided against it, it did not prevent us from watching other people attempt to eat in under the spotlight. 4 tried….none succeeded. Well 3 failed, but Jihan has faith in the skinny high-schooler who was still chowing down when we left. The contest is to finish a 72 oz steak DINNER in an hour. This consists of a 72 oz steak (NO BONE), a salad, roll, baked potato, and fried shrimp appetizer. Needless to say the puke bucket at the end of the table was a necessity.
While staring wide-eyed in awe at the men attempting to do this, the four of us thoroughly enjoyed our steak dinners. They were perfectly cooked and tender and we were fortunate enough to meet the proud owner of the restaurant, Mike. He swiftly formed an attachment to Cragin, who flirted with him in an attempt to get a free dinner. Although it didn’t work exactly the way we were hoping, he did sign the 10 pound box of fudge Jihan bought at the gift shop stating, “To the hottest, sexiest groop of girls…” He then corrected himself and spelled GROUP correctly. They don’t necessarily grow brains bigger at the Big Texan.
The night began with a bang when BB took the driver’s seat and Jen politely asked “Jul..hold up a sec. I just gotta get something out of the trunk.” “OK, no problem” BB replied. And then she forgot about the interaction even quicker than it took Cragin to burn her slice and bake cookies senior year (yes..about 5 minutes). As Jen was rummaging through the back, Cragin began to say, as BB stepped on the gas “Don’t forget about Jennie-OOOO.” Pictures to follow.
Having escaped the parking lot, everyone unscathed, we headed into the direction of The Big Texan Steakhouse. Pulling into the parking lot was quite a site to see, especially given that a large scale skinny cowboy, likened to Woody in Toy Story, was hovering over the sign. Jihan quickly exclaimed that her Top 5 (list of guys she wants to get to know biblically) had now been rounded out and we proceeded in, unsurprised. Adorning the restaurant was a pool in the shape of Texas, a limo with bull horns on the hood, Big Broadway lights advertising the Free 72 oz steak, and an attached Ole West themed Hotel with guests that were the very reason we do not live in Amarillo, TX. After taking MANY pictures with the surrounding scenery, we went inside like kids in a candy store ready for our prize.
The Outside had NOTHING on the inside. With décor resembling Jason’s father’s apt in Miami, dead animals lined the walls, floors, and ceilings. Cowhide table clothes and cowboy hats galore. We were seated rather quickly and even faster became friends with our waitress, Annie. To our great dissatisfaction, she explained that if we were to order the 72 oz steak for our table it would cost us a whopping $200, which was more than we were willing to spend in this obvious upscale restaurant. Even though we decided against it, it did not prevent us from watching other people attempt to eat in under the spotlight. 4 tried….none succeeded. Well 3 failed, but Jihan has faith in the skinny high-schooler who was still chowing down when we left. The contest is to finish a 72 oz steak DINNER in an hour. This consists of a 72 oz steak (NO BONE), a salad, roll, baked potato, and fried shrimp appetizer. Needless to say the puke bucket at the end of the table was a necessity.
While staring wide-eyed in awe at the men attempting to do this, the four of us thoroughly enjoyed our steak dinners. They were perfectly cooked and tender and we were fortunate enough to meet the proud owner of the restaurant, Mike. He swiftly formed an attachment to Cragin, who flirted with him in an attempt to get a free dinner. Although it didn’t work exactly the way we were hoping, he did sign the 10 pound box of fudge Jihan bought at the gift shop stating, “To the hottest, sexiest groop of girls…” He then corrected himself and spelled GROUP correctly. They don’t necessarily grow brains bigger at the Big Texan.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
All Hail the Pig Palace
ALL HAIL THE PIG PALACE
Today we started out in Arkansas. It only counts if you say it like R-KAN-SAS, not AR-Kan-SAW. We headed towards Oklahoma but not without stopping to get gas at Arkansas’ premiere truck stop, the Pig Palace where we learned the delicate difference between how Southern men and Northern men pick women up. While in DC, a 300+ pound drunk black man expressed his enjoyment of Jen’s derriere with a subtle “OHHH…I GUNNA BEAT YO ASS MAMA. MMHHMMMM…..” In Arkansas, a soft spoken toothless cowboy did the 100 yard dash to get the door for BB and Jihan at Pig Palace, delightfully proclaiming “You havea great day Darlin’” In Arkansas we smiled, in DC we started running.
Next stop was Oklahoma City where we hit up the Blues Festival which was exactly what one would picture a blues festival in OKC to be. One particular highlight was the set of bikers in leather vests (in 99 degree weather) wielding a hyper-masculine Papa Smurf tattoo on his arm. It’s unclear whether or not his motivation was to look tougher or molest three year olds. We had a more serious moment when we visited the site of the OKC terrorist attack, now a monument and museum documenting that April day in 1995.
Back in the car we had a long haul to Amarillo and decided to bide the time playing some trivia games where we discovered that Jihan has very specific knowledge of movies and television, mostly reserved to very bad TV of late 1980’s. In an effort to prove this fact, please see some documented examples below:
•Question Jihan got right: Name the newsmagazine show that launched Maury Povich’s career:
o Answer: “A Current Affair” (no judgement for those who did not know this)
•Question Jihan got wrong: Name the lead actor in My Cousin Vinny:
o Correct answer: Joe Pesci
o Jihan’s answer: Joe Piscopo (Feel free to pass judgement on Jihan)
After our trivia game we continued our trek though Tornado Alley and while in Texas were rendered immobile by a 3 ½ minute storm of pouring rain and hail. While sitting on the side of the road channeling Helen Hunt and Bill Paxton in Twister, we watched the funnel clouds across the plains. Luckily blue skies were coming at us and we drove to Amarillo with no more problems other than the fact that Jihan thought the “black guy in Lethal Weapon” was Wesley Snipes.
Amarillo proved to be the chain restaurant capitol of the world housing more transfat than The Biggest Loser. Within 3 miles of highway we saw: Denny’s, Wendy’s, McDonalds, Arby’s, Taco Bell, Chipotle, Starbucks, On the Border, Cracker Barrel, Outback, Olive Garden, Red Lobster, Burger King, Sonic and more…..Tempting but our meal was already planned and was to be epic. (Post to follow…)
Additional rules for BB:
•No attempting to speak Spanish despite having taken 10 years of it
•No attempting to speak Street after unfortunate instances of saying “Fo Sho” and “Holler”
Sightings:
•The largest cross so far, over 10 stories high
•A third confederate flag (atop a passing motorcyclist’s helmet)
Today we started out in Arkansas. It only counts if you say it like R-KAN-SAS, not AR-Kan-SAW. We headed towards Oklahoma but not without stopping to get gas at Arkansas’ premiere truck stop, the Pig Palace where we learned the delicate difference between how Southern men and Northern men pick women up. While in DC, a 300+ pound drunk black man expressed his enjoyment of Jen’s derriere with a subtle “OHHH…I GUNNA BEAT YO ASS MAMA. MMHHMMMM…..” In Arkansas, a soft spoken toothless cowboy did the 100 yard dash to get the door for BB and Jihan at Pig Palace, delightfully proclaiming “You havea great day Darlin’” In Arkansas we smiled, in DC we started running.
Next stop was Oklahoma City where we hit up the Blues Festival which was exactly what one would picture a blues festival in OKC to be. One particular highlight was the set of bikers in leather vests (in 99 degree weather) wielding a hyper-masculine Papa Smurf tattoo on his arm. It’s unclear whether or not his motivation was to look tougher or molest three year olds. We had a more serious moment when we visited the site of the OKC terrorist attack, now a monument and museum documenting that April day in 1995.
Back in the car we had a long haul to Amarillo and decided to bide the time playing some trivia games where we discovered that Jihan has very specific knowledge of movies and television, mostly reserved to very bad TV of late 1980’s. In an effort to prove this fact, please see some documented examples below:
•Question Jihan got right: Name the newsmagazine show that launched Maury Povich’s career:
o Answer: “A Current Affair” (no judgement for those who did not know this)
•Question Jihan got wrong: Name the lead actor in My Cousin Vinny:
o Correct answer: Joe Pesci
o Jihan’s answer: Joe Piscopo (Feel free to pass judgement on Jihan)
After our trivia game we continued our trek though Tornado Alley and while in Texas were rendered immobile by a 3 ½ minute storm of pouring rain and hail. While sitting on the side of the road channeling Helen Hunt and Bill Paxton in Twister, we watched the funnel clouds across the plains. Luckily blue skies were coming at us and we drove to Amarillo with no more problems other than the fact that Jihan thought the “black guy in Lethal Weapon” was Wesley Snipes.
Amarillo proved to be the chain restaurant capitol of the world housing more transfat than The Biggest Loser. Within 3 miles of highway we saw: Denny’s, Wendy’s, McDonalds, Arby’s, Taco Bell, Chipotle, Starbucks, On the Border, Cracker Barrel, Outback, Olive Garden, Red Lobster, Burger King, Sonic and more…..Tempting but our meal was already planned and was to be epic. (Post to follow…)
Additional rules for BB:
•No attempting to speak Spanish despite having taken 10 years of it
•No attempting to speak Street after unfortunate instances of saying “Fo Sho” and “Holler”
Sightings:
•The largest cross so far, over 10 stories high
•A third confederate flag (atop a passing motorcyclist’s helmet)
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Hunka-Hunka Burnin' Rubber....Chicken
3 hours of drunk sleep does not bode well for getting on the road early. Thank goodness we have our resident chaperon BB (aka Jul) who was sober enough to start the drive towards Arkansas. Although BB appreciated Jihan's volunteering to take the wheel, she in fact was still drunk and promptly passed out (along with Cragin and Jen) after 10 minutes on the road. About 2 hours into the drive Jihan awoke for 7 minutes, just enough time to describe her idea for an invention....something you could put on to hydrate you while you were sleeping rather than having to drink through your mouth. She informed that the IV was invented in 1922 by a man named Jim Sorensen. Disgruntled she passed out again.
We woke up now hungover in Memphis where we stopped for some world famous BBQ at Rendezvous. Some ribs, a few pork shoulders and some beans & rice later, and we were new women. We wandered around Memphis seeing some of the highlights including live music on Beale Street and the ducks in the lobby of the Peabody Hotel (made famous by The Firm and Tom Cruise pre-scientologist freak show).
Next stop? Graceland of course described by BB as "the most white trash thing I've ever done." Elvis freaks everyone were gathered to pay homage to The King's infamous voice, shiny suits and gold records. We were there to see if Elvis's sideburns could contend with Jason's during our 4 years at Middlebury. Jason wins!
After walking through the house, our audio tour took a sentimental turn in front of a video playing Elvis's final performance. Jihan suddenly realized that Elvis died in 1977 and immediately burst into tears. Blame on the A-a-a-a-a-alcohol.
Our 2 hour ride to Little Rock took longer than expected due to a Severe Weather Warning than knocked out the power while we stood in the Graceland gift shop. FIRST TORNADO SIRENS! A little nervous, a little excited, we waited out the funnel clouds and then got on the road. A few minutes into our journey a truck passed us with a headless rubber chicken dangling from the back. Photos were taken and judgements were passed. You know you are in Arkansas when.....
We arrived in Little Rock to stay with Cragin's friend Jana who is practically a saint and made these 4 bitchy east coasters feel cynical and selfish. Maybe we should spend more time in America where people are nice.....
Rules that BB has been forced to adhere to so far:
We woke up now hungover in Memphis where we stopped for some world famous BBQ at Rendezvous. Some ribs, a few pork shoulders and some beans & rice later, and we were new women. We wandered around Memphis seeing some of the highlights including live music on Beale Street and the ducks in the lobby of the Peabody Hotel (made famous by The Firm and Tom Cruise pre-scientologist freak show).
Next stop? Graceland of course described by BB as "the most white trash thing I've ever done." Elvis freaks everyone were gathered to pay homage to The King's infamous voice, shiny suits and gold records. We were there to see if Elvis's sideburns could contend with Jason's during our 4 years at Middlebury. Jason wins!
After walking through the house, our audio tour took a sentimental turn in front of a video playing Elvis's final performance. Jihan suddenly realized that Elvis died in 1977 and immediately burst into tears. Blame on the A-a-a-a-a-alcohol.
Our 2 hour ride to Little Rock took longer than expected due to a Severe Weather Warning than knocked out the power while we stood in the Graceland gift shop. FIRST TORNADO SIRENS! A little nervous, a little excited, we waited out the funnel clouds and then got on the road. A few minutes into our journey a truck passed us with a headless rubber chicken dangling from the back. Photos were taken and judgements were passed. You know you are in Arkansas when.....
We arrived in Little Rock to stay with Cragin's friend Jana who is practically a saint and made these 4 bitchy east coasters feel cynical and selfish. Maybe we should spend more time in America where people are nice.....
Rules that BB has been forced to adhere to so far:
- No singing
- No dancing
- No yodeling
- No pointing
- No cheesy jokes from the 1950's
- One of our male friends is like Ricky Martin.....we'll let you guess who
- There is a big problem with gangs in Little Rock...yes....Little Rock
- Bagels shouldn't be sold in the South
- There are an equal number of "Jesus Saves" and "Adult XXX Store" billboards in the Great Plains
Friday, June 12, 2009
Pour Me Another Shot of Torrential Rain and Tell The Limo Driver to Step On It
Once settled in Nashville and completely cleansed of the all-present smell of gasoline, we decided to hit up downtown Nashville. First stop was SATco (San Antonio Taco Company) for some buckets of beer and tacos. The waitress was dumbfounded that Cragin and Jihan had ordered 2 buckets of 6 beers each for us, asking "You want HOW MANY?" at least 3 times. We settled down to our liquid dinner and planned our night.
After waiting for a cab for half an hour and attempting to steal one from an angry southern girl, we finally made it to our destination: Fanfare, (the country's largest country music gathering) also known as "Redneck Riviera" We made it just in time for the torrential downpour as we stepped out of the cab. As the four of us waited under a vestibule for the rain to subside, we watched as cowboy after cowgirl passed by barefoot and/or shirtless thus confirming every stereotype these 4 elitist Northerners had about the locals.
We decided to make a run for it and got to our bar just in time for the rain to stop. No worries though because we had free shots waiting for us. Our host Colin, or as we call him, the greatest host ever, was friends with the owner of the bar, Quinn, and proceeded to feed us shot after shot after shot and drink after drink after drink for FREE. You can understand the type of damage the four of us could do when presented with this situation...Doc Hollidays Bar will be closing next month. Quinn regaled us with his fascinating research for his anthropological study on the subtle differences between sex with northern versus southern girls. He explained how northern girls are much more apt to tell you what they want or to tell you when you need to do better. Cragin and Jen reaffirmed his suspitions by simultaneously yelling out "You Better Make it Up to Me!" (Yes, northern girls are indeed more vocal and tougher to please.)
We decided to venture out of Doc Hollidays and head over to a bar called "Losers" where the patrons...are. Given that it was Redneck Riviera, cabs were hard to come by. Colin made a phone call and within minutes a black limo circa Junior Prom 1994 pulled up to drive us once again establishing himself as the "best host ever." Over at Losers the other patrons WEREN'T and we in fact WERE, and were denied entry. Blue Bar was thus our last stop and with one game of billiards and 2 shots of Maker's Mark (in this insistence shot = 1/2 a glass) we headed back to Colin's condo. Three of us slept in the guest room, one of us slept elsewhere.
After waiting for a cab for half an hour and attempting to steal one from an angry southern girl, we finally made it to our destination: Fanfare, (the country's largest country music gathering) also known as "Redneck Riviera" We made it just in time for the torrential downpour as we stepped out of the cab. As the four of us waited under a vestibule for the rain to subside, we watched as cowboy after cowgirl passed by barefoot and/or shirtless thus confirming every stereotype these 4 elitist Northerners had about the locals.
We decided to make a run for it and got to our bar just in time for the rain to stop. No worries though because we had free shots waiting for us. Our host Colin, or as we call him, the greatest host ever, was friends with the owner of the bar, Quinn, and proceeded to feed us shot after shot after shot and drink after drink after drink for FREE. You can understand the type of damage the four of us could do when presented with this situation...Doc Hollidays Bar will be closing next month. Quinn regaled us with his fascinating research for his anthropological study on the subtle differences between sex with northern versus southern girls. He explained how northern girls are much more apt to tell you what they want or to tell you when you need to do better. Cragin and Jen reaffirmed his suspitions by simultaneously yelling out "You Better Make it Up to Me!" (Yes, northern girls are indeed more vocal and tougher to please.)
We decided to venture out of Doc Hollidays and head over to a bar called "Losers" where the patrons...are. Given that it was Redneck Riviera, cabs were hard to come by. Colin made a phone call and within minutes a black limo circa Junior Prom 1994 pulled up to drive us once again establishing himself as the "best host ever." Over at Losers the other patrons WEREN'T and we in fact WERE, and were denied entry. Blue Bar was thus our last stop and with one game of billiards and 2 shots of Maker's Mark (in this insistence shot = 1/2 a glass) we headed back to Colin's condo. Three of us slept in the guest room, one of us slept elsewhere.
Virginia is for Lovers
Bright-eyed and bushy tailed we departed Washington D.C. around 8 a.m. for Nashville. This would be our second longest day in the car - 11 hours. Cragin took the wheel determined to make it in less time. Turns out the Virginia State Police was more determined to add to their pension funds - we were pulled over about 5 hours into our journey. Officer Hudson was extremely polite - introduced himself with a smile and a handshake before politely bending Cragin over and f*cking her in the a** with a $136 ticket. The rest of the day we used cruise control.
10 hours in and only 45 minutes to Nashville we stopped to get gas. And boy did we. While Jihan (a consummate NJ girl - "I have to PUMP IT?") filled up, we gathered outside the car to stretch out legs. The price meter stopped but unfortunately the pump had trouble following suit and as Jihan removed the nozzle from the car, a fire hose stream of gas shot out, promptly dousing the car, Jihan and the ground with gasoline. (please note that this is the second gas accident of this nature Cragin has lived through in 6 weeks, she is sure that the Gods are trying to burn her to death). After changing and using approximately 300 wet wipes, we piled into the car sweaty and wreaking of gas. Our Nashville host was more than happy to show us the shower within 2 minutes of our arrival.
Notable roadside attractions seen during the journey:
2 Confederate Flags
42 signs for a teddy bear themed kids restaurant "Shoney's" (a poor man's Chuck E Cheese)
1 Seven-story Cross
A billboard that read " All I know is everything.... - GOD"
A "JULES 7" vanity plate
States driven through so far:
New Jersey
Delaware
Maryland
Virginia
Pennsylvania
Tennessee
10 hours in and only 45 minutes to Nashville we stopped to get gas. And boy did we. While Jihan (a consummate NJ girl - "I have to PUMP IT?") filled up, we gathered outside the car to stretch out legs. The price meter stopped but unfortunately the pump had trouble following suit and as Jihan removed the nozzle from the car, a fire hose stream of gas shot out, promptly dousing the car, Jihan and the ground with gasoline. (please note that this is the second gas accident of this nature Cragin has lived through in 6 weeks, she is sure that the Gods are trying to burn her to death). After changing and using approximately 300 wet wipes, we piled into the car sweaty and wreaking of gas. Our Nashville host was more than happy to show us the shower within 2 minutes of our arrival.
Notable roadside attractions seen during the journey:
2 Confederate Flags
42 signs for a teddy bear themed kids restaurant "Shoney's" (a poor man's Chuck E Cheese)
1 Seven-story Cross
A billboard that read " All I know is everything.... - GOD"
A "JULES 7" vanity plate
States driven through so far:
New Jersey
Delaware
Maryland
Virginia
Pennsylvania
Tennessee
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
The Adventure Begins
The unemployed unite for a summer fiesta across America. Today we drove through New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware (we think), Maryland and Washingston DC.
With a slight detour in Philadelphia to congratulate Jul's perpetually more successful sister Amanda on her recent fellowship acceptance, we fought the weather and traffic to arrive at Jihan's apt. in DC.
After realizing the rest of our trip will be filled with down home gourmet dishes such as hamburgers, mac n cheese, and fried pickles, we went cultural and settled in on an Indian restaurant near Adams Morgan.
Thus began the first of many predictable moments where a server would mistake Jul (who will be known for the duration of this blog as BB) as a pre-pubescent 12 year old. Not only did he hold on to her ID while he quickly checked and returned the rest of ours, but he then proceeded to bring it out back and scan it as she waited impatiently for her evidently fake ID to be returned to her. When he finally came back, he gave her back her ID, laughed at her, and asked "Diet Coke for you?"
Tomorrow's agenda includes:
1. Waking up at 6:15am
2. Getting Jen coffee
3. Pumping our own gas
4. Driving to Nashville
5. Singin bad Karaoke at Lottie's
To end our first passage, here is a list of alternative blog names we came up with before our trip
http://itseemedlikeagoodideaatthetime.blogspot.com ---Jihan
http://ifitaintbrokedontfixit.blogspot.com ----Cragin
http://hopewehaveableepingamazingtime.blogspot.com ---Cragin
http://whatwouldjjjacdo.blogspot.com --Cragin
http://atleastwelookedgood.blogspot.com ---Cragin
http://wedolabuonatestaandotheradventures.blogspot.com ---Cragin
http://redstripebluemoonwhitezinfandel.blogspot.com --BB/Michelle
http://whathappensontheroadstaysontheroad.blogspot.com --Jen
http://thisaintyomammasroadtrip.blogspot.com -Jen
http://roadkill/roadthrill.blogspot.com -Jen
With a slight detour in Philadelphia to congratulate Jul's perpetually more successful sister Amanda on her recent fellowship acceptance, we fought the weather and traffic to arrive at Jihan's apt. in DC.
After realizing the rest of our trip will be filled with down home gourmet dishes such as hamburgers, mac n cheese, and fried pickles, we went cultural and settled in on an Indian restaurant near Adams Morgan.
Thus began the first of many predictable moments where a server would mistake Jul (who will be known for the duration of this blog as BB) as a pre-pubescent 12 year old. Not only did he hold on to her ID while he quickly checked and returned the rest of ours, but he then proceeded to bring it out back and scan it as she waited impatiently for her evidently fake ID to be returned to her. When he finally came back, he gave her back her ID, laughed at her, and asked "Diet Coke for you?"
Tomorrow's agenda includes:
1. Waking up at 6:15am
2. Getting Jen coffee
3. Pumping our own gas
4. Driving to Nashville
5. Singin bad Karaoke at Lottie's
To end our first passage, here is a list of alternative blog names we came up with before our trip
http://itseemedlikeagoodideaatthetime.blogspot.com ---Jihan
http://ifitaintbrokedontfixit.blogspot.com ----Cragin
http://hopewehaveableepingamazingtime.blogspot.com ---Cragin
http://whatwouldjjjacdo.blogspot.com --Cragin
http://atleastwelookedgood.blogspot.com ---Cragin
http://wedolabuonatestaandotheradventures.blogspot.com ---Cragin
http://redstripebluemoonwhitezinfandel.blogspot.com --BB/Michelle
http://whathappensontheroadstaysontheroad.blogspot.com --Jen
http://thisaintyomammasroadtrip.blogspot.com -Jen
http://roadkill/roadthrill.blogspot.com -Jen
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