Welcome to West Virginia!

After the previous day, this day was cake.  Baltimore was actually out of our way from our planned final destinations, but Carlin and Kevin wanted to explore Philadelphia and Washington, and I wanted to spend some time with my close friend, Sahar Nouri.  The plan was to leave around 8am and be in Baltimore by the early afternoon.  Much like the previous three days, this morning started with me getting up first, Carlin taking way too long in the bathroom, and Kevin and me foraging for food and loading up the car while Carlin was still doing whatever it is he does in the bathroom.  The main difference this morning was we had to have a small funeral service for Carlin’s cheese, which did not survive the night as well as we had hoped.  Basically, since Salt Lake City, we had been taking in the cheese at each of our destinations and placing it in the fridge to let it re-solidify over night.  The hotel room we had gotten in Columbus, though, did not have a fridge of any type, so we rigged up a plastic bag package that we could then submerge in ice held in the ice container provided by our room.  At face value, the idea was pretty good, but we did not have the greatest value of bags, nor did we seem to remember that ice melts.  So, the morning found a very, VERY water-logged and semi-stinky block of white, extra-sharp cheddar that had to be put to rest.  If that was all the bad luck we were going to have on the trip, I’ll take it!

Welcome to Pennsylvania!

I always forget that Carlin and Kevin have never been this far east.  We were heading kind of southeast on Hwy 40 – comprised of I-70, I-79, and I-68 – which goes from Ohio to West Virginia into Pennsylvania, back into West Virginia before turning back east into Maryland.  It does all of this in about 100 miles:  a very striking series of changes compared to the 2,200 miles of I-5 that pass through only three states.  Carlin was just stunned that not only did we hit four states within 100 miles of each other, but over the course of about 20 minutes we had not only left, but re-entered the state of West Virginia from two completely different points.  The area was much more pleasant to the eye than the Rust Belt had been, and, compared to pretty much all of the previous days of driving, this trip was done in a flash.

We missed the "Welcome to Maryland Sign," so this was the next best one.

Rural Highway in Maryland

Baltimore was a mess to drive in.  It’s one of those old, colonial towns that grew quite large.  This means the streets are narrow, the buildings are all connected, visibility is low, and nothing moves in a straight line.  Despite all of this, it is a very pretty city and seems to have been planned relatively well, disregarding it’s urban sprawl.  It has a pretty rockin’ city bus system, as well as a shuttle that I believe is run by Johns Hopkins University, located in the center part of the city that takes you most places anyone would need to regularly go (downtown, mall, train station, university, farmers market, etc.).  Of course, a lot of the population insists on driving…  Baltimore also has the advantage of being on the eastern rail line which connects it to other east coast metropolitan areas such as Philadelphia, New York City, Boston, and Washington.

No leg of driving would be complete without Kevin sleeping!

Sahar and Me

Carlin and Kevin didn’t stay long.  This was the beginning of the end of the road trip for me as I was staying with Sahar while they took off to another part of Maryland to stay with more of Carlin’s in-laws.  The final part of the journey would be when they’d come pick me up and take me to Frackville, where I would take leave of them for a visit with my grandmother.  We said our farewells, made plans for when they were coming to collect me the next day, and they were on their way.  The remainder of the evening was low key, consisting of a stroll through a nearby park, drinking some coffee, eating some Indian food, getting a quick and dirty tour of the university.

The Trio in Storm Lake

We slept in!  It was warm, we were comfortable, and got, like, a whopping 6 hours of sleep!  So refreshing!

Kevin's Cheesewhiz Artwork

Me pissed in traffic

Anyway, our morning started much like the previous.  We each took turns rolling out of bed (or, two air mattresses and a couch) and doing our morning routines.  I went to work packing the car, and came back to the living room to help Carlin and Kevin clean up all traces of our existence (definitely a plus to traveling with two boyscouts).  My aunt, uncle and, more unexpectedly, cousin Erin, all got up to see us off.  Shortly after Carlin rescued his ever-shrinking block of Tillamook cheese from the fridge, we said our fair-wells, opened up the caffeinated Crystal Light, and off we were across northern Iowa.

Despite the never-ending fields of corn and rolling hills, Iowa reminded me a lot of western Oregon.  We were on highway 20 (oddly enough, there’s a highway 20 that runs through Oregon, as well) that had a similar scenery to highway 99 that connects Corvallis to Eugene.  As a result, we eased up on the nature pictures from a moving car for this stretch.  This part of the drive was not exciting in the slightest.

Carlin taking another picture of Kevin sleeping

My trusty navigator, Kevin, was passed out in the passenger seat since we departed, while Carlin chipped a way at the humas that had been patiently waiting in the backseat.  Before leaving corn central, we did pull over for cheap, ethanol-ridden gasoline (the plus level gas was cheaper than the lowest octane crap), where I was lucky enough to sit in paint and be relieved of my driving duties by Carlin.

The True Badlands

The Mighty Mississippi

Welcome to Illinois

Shortly there after we crossed the mighty Mississippi River into the state of Illinois.  THIS was the horror that no one ever mentioned to me.  In fact, the combination of Illinois and Indiana was quite possibly the worst experience of the entire trip.  This mini-nightmare that we were to experience was thrown into fruition by a misunderstanding between Hugh and our then-navigator, me.  We wanted to go to Indiana, Hugh directed us towards southern Chicago, which is not the same direction as Indiana.  As a result, we followed the highway sign, and ended up realizing that, when Hugh calculated our route, he was set to avoid all toll roads, which included I-74, the direct route towards Indianapolis.  So, Carlin quickly attempted to get back on track with Hugh, and turned off into this very scary city someplace in western Illinois that looked like it had been blown up.

Now, I need to briefly explain that Carlin and I – prior to Kevin joining us on the trip – had entertained the idea of spending a night in Chicago and climbing the Willis Tower (formerly the Sears Tower) via staircase.  Upon closer examination of a map, we realized that Chicago was not terribly far from Storm Lake, so between that and the fact that Chicago had recently become the murder capital of the country, we decided to go to Indianapolis instead.  Additionally, we decided that if we got to Indianapolis early enough in the day, we would treat ourselves to a “nice” dinner (something in between 5 star French and McDonalds), and then continue on to Columbus before finding a cheapo hotel to crash for the evening.  Carlin and I more or less agreed to this – or so I thought – but Kevin missed the boat on this, but that wasn’t much of a problem.

So, anyway, we’re in this city in Illinois that has recently undergone a Blitzkrieg, everyone has large pants and no teeth, and the gas stations don’t have bathrooms.  To add to our confusion and minor horrified irritation, Hugh randomly decided that he was going to change our destination from Indianapolis to Rexburg, Idaho, thus suddenly telling us to make a U-turn and head back in the direction we had just come from.  This was not okay…  and after arguing with the then-navigator, Kevin – who woke up just for this event – Hugh was reprogramed, and we were sent on a snaky, unkempt tour of whatever city we were trapped in.  After this hour vignette, we were on some unknown highway heading towards Indianapolis.

Welcome to Indiana

Now, I was driving again for some reason, and was the lucky one to experience the worst and most mind-numbing construction traffic I had ever encountered in my life.  Upon entering the state of Indiana, the highway promptly went from 2 lanes each direction to half a lane on our side of the road.  The speed limit plummeted to 0 mph, and we sat.  We sat for about 15 minutes, with the engine off, not being able to see anything down the road that would hint as to why traffic was so bad.  Our situation was like this for about 1.5 hours:  we’d sit for 15 minutes with the engine off, suddenly traffic would start flowing at about 30 mph, and then come to a screeching halt again for 10 or 15 minutes (not as bad compared to some traffic stories I’ve heard).  This type of flow would immediately suggest that there was a flagger, though that would be quite odd for an interstate.  Nearing the end of this experience, traffic picked back up to about 65 mph, and we passed a sign that said “End Road Construction” having never seen a worker, construction equipment, or anything that even remotely looked like it was under construction.  I was livid, and was not afraid to let my friends know it!  I guess I should have taken our first sight into the state as a sign for what was to come…

Construction Worker eating yogurt

Most of the trip to Indianapolis was spent in silence except for the continuous banter of Josh Clark and Chuck Bryant from “Stuff You Should Know.”  Eventually, we started talking again, decided to catch a nice dinner (nicer than we have had so far), and continue on to Columbus.  Kevin located an Applebee’s,  and we feasted!  It was glorious!

Kevin, Fava Beans, and me in the Motel 6

Kevin took the wheel for the remainder of the drive, Carlin sat shotgun, and I passed out in the backseat.  I was awake just long enough to see us pass under the sign “Welcome to Ohio,” which Carlin later described as the prettiest sign we had passed since we left Salt Lake City.  We didn’t get a picture, mostly because we forgot, and it was dark.  Upon arriving in Columbus, we were able to find a Motel 6 to crash out.  Being the deceptive people we are, we sent Kevin in by himself to rent a single for the night so as to avoid any addition fees for extra people.  We found the room, disembarked, took our fava bean picture, and crashed.

Carlin, Kevin, and the Fava Beans

Carlin woke me up trying to figure out how to open the door to his room.  I literally fell off of the 5ft couch I had spent the night on thinking that those measly 4.5 hours of sleep I received was nothing but a blink of the eye.  Much like the morning before, I dragged myself to the bathroom, took a shower, and immediately moved to pack up the car again.  Kevin had already been up doing his thing, and Carlin eventually figured out that, if you ask the door nicely, it will open by itself (we didn’t actually figure out what was up with that door).  Carlin sketched out a quick thank you note for our AWOL hosts, and we took our leave, now heading towards Storm Lake, Iowa to meet up with my aunt, uncle, and two cousins.

Welcome to Nebraska!

Surprisingly enough, we were out of Colorado in about 3 hours.  I had heard stories from my parents of that state being deceptively large,  but be it sleep-induced dementia, or the delirium from the morning Colorado sun burning my retinas through the Denver pollution, we made it through Colorado in what felt like a heartbeat.  That concluded my time driving for the day (I drive first in the morning when everyone else is sleeping, so I don’t have to drive as long!).  The biggest challenge yet was still to come:  Nebraska.

Stuff You Should Know

In an atlas published by The Onion entitled Our Dumb World, the state of Nebraska is described as “‘America’s Roadblock’ running 210 miles north to south, and over 17,000 miles east to west, Nebraska was constructed in 1846 as a mind-numbing, 16-hour-long barrier to prevent American travelers from getting anyplace else.”  Everyone who has ever driven through that state had told me the horrors of endless corn fields that I would experience.  EVERYONE!  In reality, it wasn’t that bad.  Maybe it was because it was described in such intricate detail as being the worst place on earth to drive, but I think it had to do with the fact that Carlin came to the rescue.  While my iPod was loaded with an odd assortment of pop and “classical” music, Carlin’s had about 60 episodes of a podcast entitled Stuff You Should Know put out by a website howstuffworks.com.  This is a seemingly random podcast published by two Atlanta-based writers named Josh Clark and Charles “Chuck” Bryant.  Basically, they get a topic, they research it, and they put together something that comes out as an “Idiot’s Guide to [Insert Random Topic Here].”  They are overviews of concepts, inventions, people, etc. that just give you a basic understanding of how it works.  I’m more fascinated by the historical background that they provide than anything.  The best part, though, is HOW they deliver it.  They have this really weird chemistry, that’s just quite enthralling (see the episode on Vikings).  If nothing else, I would highly recommend these guys to anyone who is doing something boring and monotonous and wants to learn something new at the same time.  Flying through Nebraska at 80 miles an hour was a perfect time to discover the magic of these casts.

Kevin Sleeping... again...

Passing into a new state demonstrated that between the three of us, we did not know that the Missouri river was the border between Nebraska and Iowa, which is why we did not get a picture of the sign for that one…  Upon entering the land of the Hawkeyes, we immediately turned towards the northwest quadrant of the state.  Oddly enough, we were making much better time than I had anticipated, even with Carlin driving like an old woman (he was usually going slightly under the posted speed limit.  I attribute this to the fact that he has a small child).  Kevin, having been asleep since Denver, was now driving.  My cousin called me to check up on our progress, and, with no help from Hugh, was able to guide us to here impossible to find farm house on the fringe of Iowa’s best kept secret:  Storm Lake.

A Little Bit of Vacation

I hadn’t seen this part of my family in about 15 years.  I had chatted with Erin, my oldest cousin, on and off for the past year and a half or so, but seeing them not as small children was going to be new.  Not surprisingly, Erin is pretty awesome, and her mother – my dad’s sister – had chilled out in typical Mehlenbacher fashion.  Her father was downright pleasant, too, and they all accepted us into their home with loving arms.  It was probably the best nights sleep I had gotten the entire trip…  but I’m getting ahead of myself.  My aunt and uncle had actually planned to go to their younger daughter’s track dinner, so Erin was left to entertain the guys on her own.  Of course, the thing to do when you visit people in a place you’ve never been before is to get a tour, thus Erin piled us into her stylish vehicle and took us into town.

Storm Lake is a beautiful little town.  It’s apparently attempting to be a tourist destination, despite its not so great location (in the midwest in Iowa), so the city was in the process drudging the lake to make it deeper, and they had built up some smaller condos, parks, and hotels on the coast.  We saw the library where my aunt works, several sculptures carved by chainsaw out of dead or dying trees, and a place that supposedly has the best ice cream in the state, though they wouldn’t be making any until school was out of session.  We all seemed to be quite entertained by one of the parts, as we took many  pictures there…

Carlin on a little kid's toy at the park

Carlin and the lighthouse at the park

Carlin, Kevin, me, and a chainsaw wood carving

Returning to the house, I encountered my other cousin, who did not know who I was.  It was an awesome family reunion.  The day was capped with my uncle giving us an alternate route out of Iowa to Illinois, and our important picture with the fava beans!

Cousin Erin, Kevin, Carlin, and the Fava Beans

For some reason I awoke at approximately 6am, having not slept very well at all that night.  Crawling to the bathroom, it became apparent that the lovely weather that had greeted me the previous evening was now overcome by a mild, but consistent snow storm.  After an absurdly cold shower, I wandered into the living room with the intention of taking the first of several photos of a can of fava beans that had been gifted to me by my close friend, Sahar Nouri.  Seeing how I was going to meet up with her in Baltimore, and I had no idea how to prepare them for a meal, I jokingly told her I was going to drag them across the country, cataloguing every stop with a picture so that I could give her proof that those were the most well-traveled fava beans she would ever enjoy (much like the lawn gnome in the movie, Amélie).  Of course, this first picture, supposedly including a backdrop of snow-capped mountains, was taken on a disposable film camera that would get left in Carlin’s car after we went our separate ways.

Carlin and Ashley woke up shortly after, we sat and had breakfast of some sort, and then packed up Ashley and Liam to take them off to the airport.  This trip was uneventful, aside from the inevitable interaction between pulling up to the curb at the airport and immediately being told by a TSA agent that I had to move the vehicle unless I wanted it towed and myself arrested (the arresting thing was a new one for me).  So, while Carlin said goodbye to his wife and child, I drove his car through a sea of needlessly aggressive persons in the snow to reposition it at the cell phone lot.  Carlin eventually called and we migrated back to the house to finish packing the car.  Kevin – the third member of our party – was down in Provo (at work, for some reason), so we needed to go get him, all the while hoping that the snow would stop and we’d be able to get through the Rocky Mountains without too many issues.  Originally, we were to go south to Moab and then head east directly to Denver.  While we traveled down to Provo, Kevin was checking out the roads (again, why was he at work?) and discovered that basically every road heading south was under about 3 feet of snow and not even remotely worth attempting.  He recommended we head back north and then east through Wyoming before going south to Denver.  We collected Kevin, fueled up on coffee, and then headed out.

The Long Road Ahead

Wyoming from the interstate.

From here on out, the plan was to drive continuously to our destination in Denver, stopping only for gas.  We were completely loaded up on food, as Carlin decided that everything they had purchased in Utah was coming with us on the road.  These items included, but were not limited to:  6 different types of Crystal Light (with and without caffeine), two types of humas, 4 types of crackers and pita chips, a months supply of Coke Zero, two types of cheese whiz, and a loaf of Tillamook black-labeled, vintage, white, extra-sharp cheddar.  Needless to say, stopping for sustenance was not necessary, but stopping for nutrition may be required.  We hooked up my iPod and, accompanied by Carlin’s GPS which was lovingly referred to as “Hugh,” off we went.

Welcome to Wyoming!

Now, despite all of the horrible things I’ve heard about Wyoming, it actually was very pretty.  Most of the larger hills and mountains were covered in a carpet of snow – which was not settling on the road, thankfully – the vegetation was green, and the air was more or less clear.  When I was not driving, I was seated in the passager seat with Carlin’s Canon 50D in hand, attempting to record our trip from a moving car.  Kevin and Carlin were quiet for the most part (Kevin spent the majority of the trip sleeping in the car), but we briefly discussed the next few days of travel, figuring out where we were stopping, when we were stopping, and – most importantly – when we were leaving each morning.  Ultimately, I figured leaving circa 4am was the best way to avoid traffic around any of the larger cities we were near, but Carlin and Kevin didn’t not really think that was going to accomplish anything.  Apparently, they like to sleep…

This is how Kevin spent most of his time in the car.

Welcome to Colorful Colorado

We passed into Colorado rather uneventfully, and the road to Denver was short.  We got a beautiful glimpse of the Denver skyline before heading into the suburbs to find this apartment Carlin had arranged for us to stay at.  The most noticeable thing about this place was that it was completely unnavigable!  Additionally, it was swarming with brown rabbits.

Rabbit

He had been informed that the keys were “under the mat,” where they definitely were not (they were actually in the grill).  After a quick disembark, we decided to splurge on Taco Bell for dinner (as if the food in the car wasn’t healthy enough), which Hugh decided was only accessible by driving around the block completely instead of just making a right turn into the parking lot.  We filled up, went back to the apartment, and settled in for bed…  or, I did.  Carlin and Kevin were not tired (they obviously had not slept on bricks the night before), and attempted to watch a movie in the living room, which wouldn’t have been a problem except for the fact that I was trying to sleep on the couch that was 5 feet from the television!  Needless to say, I won, kicked them out, and went to bed.  It was to be a 5am departure the next morning.

The Denver Skyline

Carlin and Kevin after the first day of driving

Many people have had the opportunity to drive across the country. While growing up, I always relied on plane travel to get from place to place, usually flying from Portland, Oregon to Chicago, Illinois or Cincinnati, Ohio to Harrisburg, Pennsylvania to visit grandparents, or flying from Portland, Oregon to San Francisco, California to Atlanta, Georgia. The longest car trip I ever made while growing up was either from Corvallis, Oregon to Pleasington, California, or north to Vancouver, British Columbia, lasting about 10 hours one way. Today I embark on a road trip that will take me from Salt Lake City, Utah all the way to Frackville, Pennsylvania. The reason for this needs a small back story.

I have been friends with Carlin Simmons since the 7^th grade. He and I have gone on many adventures together, including but not limited to driving 16 hours in a day to get a half-dead vehicle from what almost ended up being Canada, as well as a two-day, 28 hour drive to and from Corvallis to Provo, Utah to not attend his wedding. Thus, it was natural for Carlin to ask me to join him on a trip to Boston from Salt Lake City to help relocate his family for an impending internship.

The situation was that Carlin had accept a position as an accounting intern in Boston. He decided it would be best to relocate his family there for the duration of the internship. He needs a car for the position, which means he must drive, but his child is too small to spend that amount of time in a car, thus his wife and the kid are to fly to Boston. Not wanting to drive alone, Carlin invites me, as well as our friend Kevin Costa, to join on this adventure.

Simply put, we are driving across the country. On a more complicated level, we are driving to Denver, Colorado, Storm Lake, Iowa, someplace in the Rust Belt (either Chicago, Indianapolis, or Pittsburgh), Baltimore, Maryland, and then Frackville, Pennsylvania. Carlin and Kevin will subsequently continue on to Boston from there after taking a small vacation back down in Washington, D.C.

Journey to the Great Salt Lake

Despite the aforementioned plan of travel, the journey actually began with me having to get from Phoenix to Salt Lake City. This could easily be achieved with a plane ride, which sounds simple enough, but no journey is worth taking unless you plan on having some excitement, as mildly humorous as it may be.

I was taken to the airport after getting lunch with my roommate. Apparently, on his way back to the apartment, he was routed through some random part of Tempe because no one seems to be able to plan out the road construction in the area. I made my way to stand in line at the Southwest Airlines baggage check, where there was a guy stationed to tell people by loudly repeating himself that there were two lines: one for checking baggage and getting a boarding pass, and the other for doing everything else. Inevitably so, the two women in front of me stood in line for about 10 minutes before they realized that they could not purchase any tickets from the “baggage check and boarding pass only” line. The discussion that ensued from that was hilarious before the Southwest agent at the end of the line firmly but politely said, “please leave.”

At the security checkpoint, the only exciting thing I saw was the woman that almost accidentally let her small baby go through the x-ray machine in its baby chair (no joke!).

The plane was 10 minutes late, which is not a big deal at all, but I’m pretty sure that 80% of the people scheduled to be on the flight with me started freaking out like their spleen had just been forcibly removed. We were waiting for the flight crew that was delayed coming in from another flight. I watched them sprint onto the flight, and about 3 minutes later we started boarding, which was a very fast turnaround. Unknown to us, the flight crew was not ready to receive passengers yet.

Southwest does not have assigned seating. You get to board based on how early you check in during a 24-hour window. My boarding number was B-26, which meant I was in the last half of people boarding, and thus had to sit all the way in the back by the window (the aisle is almost always preferred for people that are over 6 feet tall like myself). I did get a very cool – yet illegal – photo of the Grand Canyon from the air, though!

Grand Canyon from an Airplane Window

Remember how I said the flight crew was not ready to receive passengers yet? Yeah, they seemed to still be frantically running around the plane 45 minutes into the flight trying to take care of things that usually would have been done prior to boarding. As a result, the inflight beverage service came about 25 minutes before the flight was suppose to land. Again, this was NOT a big deal, but some people sure thought it was. The funny thing about this was that they handed me my drink, and literally as soon as I touched the cup, the pilot announced that we were going to be landing soon and that the flight attendants would be moving through the cabin to pick up all remaining trash. About 10 seconds later, my drink that I had taken a single sip from was taken from me and thrown into a trash bag.

Because of the cloud cover in Salt Lake City, the landing was quite bumpy. A young woman sitting not far from me started clawing at her seat and crying as we descended to the ground. I attempted to get the woman sitting closer to her to tell her we would be fine, but this woman apparently only spoke Brooklynese and would only respond to me with a loud and abrasive “WHAT!?!” I eventually gave up, and the poor girl cried herself to the ground. Actual touchdown was just as bumpy as the descent as we landed on a runway that appeared to be made of gravel. Welcome to Salt Lake City!

I was collected outside the airport by Carlin and his wife, Ashley, and we made our way to Lehi where the two were leaving their furniture until after the internship. Ashley graciously cut my hair, which was out of control by this point, and I was shown to my room: a master bedroom with a super creepy room for the toilet and a bed that was harder than granite. Perfect way to begin this adventure.