Third Time is a Charm

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.