Epilogue

Epilogue

This was certainly a road trip! We drove 8,729 miles in 52 days, which is an average of 167 miles per day. Our longest drive was on Day 48, when we drove 513 miles from Mackinaw City, MI to Niagara Falls, ON. We had a number of days when we drove more than 400 miles, including several that were back-to-back. The through mileage was about 6,278, which means we drove about 2,500 local miles (including more than 300 in Yellowstone National Park alone)! We purchased gasoline 36 times (all fill-ups) totaling 483 gallons. The highest price we paid was $3.199 (twice) in Yellowstone National Park, WY and Bloomington, MN. The lowest price we paid was $2.709 in Woodland, CO. Our average MPG was just over 18. We have concluded after this trip that the only variable that affects gasoline mileage significantly is speed. Above speeds of 70 MPH, the mileage really dropped off. No other variable, including using the air conditioner, towing a trailer or climbing hills affected our mileage as much going fast did.

We were in a total of 21 states counting Maryland (once) plus Ontario, Canada. In chronological order they were Maryland, West Virginia, Kentucky, Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, Kansas, Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, Utah, Wyoming, Idaho, Montana, South Dakota, Minnesota, Iowa, Wisconsin, Michigan, Ontario, New York, and Pennsylvania. We also visited and/or camped in 14 National Park Service properties, not counting National Forests that we drove through.

Perhaps the biggest impression the trip made on us was how huge and largely empty and beautiful America really is. Arizona, Colorado, Utah and Wyoming were particularly beautiful. Wyoming was particularly empty. As East Coast people, we didn’t realize how densely populated Maryland was until we drove across states with far fewer people per square mile. In fact, Maryland has more people per square mile (542) than any of the other states we were in, and more than 100 times more than Wyoming (5).

Everywhere we went people told us that the climate in their area had changed recently. We saw low lake levels at Lake Powell and Lake Michigan. We heard about the warmest winters and hottest summers in a lifetime, reduced snowfalls, and changes in what birds are found naturally in which regions. This made us concerned about our environment and damage to it that has been done.

This vacation wasn’t without it’s hardships, mostly high heat. but with a few exceptions our lifestyle was tolerable. We weren’t able to bathe every day, but never went more than 36 hours without a shower. It was nice to live in our modest trailer with fewer possessions than we have at home. We noticed how easy it was to keep track of our possessions when we had fewer of them. And we cannot remember needing anything that we didn’t have. The biggest change in our lifestyle was the lack of electricity. For about half of the days we didn’t have any, causing inconveniences more than anything else. Of course we didn’t have any air conditioning even when we did have electrical hookups. Life without air conditioning in the mountain states was not too bad, except for some really hot nights in Zion National Park and a few exceptionally humid days in Minnesota and Michigan.

Would we do it again? YES!

Day 52 (Home)

Day 52
August 12, 2006
Busti, NY to Clarksville, MD (332 miles)

Our last night of camping in Louie and Shirley’s front yard ended up being one of the coldest of the trip, including Yellowstone—low of 42 degrees. Fall is on its way in western New York! We folded up the trailer one final time, ate a HUGE breakfast courtesy of Aunt Shirley, and hit the road at about 11 AM. Louie and Shirley were the consummate hosts and we rated their yard a 5-star campground, among the best we experienced in the 7 weeks we've been on the road.

The drive through Pennsylvania and central Maryland seemed different to us. We realized how crowded the “country” of Pennsylvania, a piebald of small towns about 3 miles apart, actually is. Our concept of what constitutes a mountain has also been altered. We used to think of the hills on Interstate 70 between Frederick and Hagerstown as mountains, but after standing before the Teton Range and dragging the trailer over Red Mountain Pass to Silverton, well…

And our concept of “far” has been altered as well. The 330 mile drive home didn’t seem that long today. When we were in Hagerstown and eager to get home, Emily asked how much farther we had to travel. When we told her that it was 75 miles, she said, “Oh, that’s not bad.”

We had some mixed feelings about going home and returning to our normal lives. There were certainly things we missed but there were some things about living on the road in our little trailer that we would miss as well. Frank said he didn’t look forward to returning to the hectic pace that his life has become. He has appreciated the time he has been able to spend with his family and intends to work harder to preserve more time with them in the future.

The kids cheered when we crossed into Maryland and again when we entered Howard County and when we saw “Clarksville” on a sign. We felt the same excitement.

The first thing we did was greet our neighbors and catch up on local events. Emily rode her bicycle while Elliot watched some TV. Our house seemed huge to us. The first room we saw, our mudroom, which is 12 x 12, was bigger than our trailer (140 square feet if you count the bunks). The kitchen and master bedroom seemed cavernous.

Even though it was a bit humid, we all agreed we wanted to shut off the air conditioning and open the windows. We missed the fresh air and sounds of the outdoors that we have come to know over the past 7 weeks. I think all of us were grateful to sleep in our own beds.

It was a great trip—the trip of a lifetime—but it’s also great to be home. There is no place like it.

Day 51 (Cave people get some culture)

Day 51
August 11, 2006
Chautauqua Institution

Busti is near Jamestown, a small, old city that was built at the southern tip of Lake Chautauqua, which is shaped like a miniature finger lake of sorts (about 20 miles long, north to south, and 1 mile across). Chautauqua Institution, an historic, gated summer retreat and learned institution where thousands of people spend a week or two during the summer and immerse themselves in an array of artistic and intellectual pursuits and other vacation activities, is located at about 10 o’clock on the lake.

We decided to visit the institution and were joined by Jonathan and Barbara and Frank’s parents. The weather could not have been better—77 degrees, low humidity, gentle breezes, blue skies and not a cloud to be found.

On the way to Chautauqua, we went past a family farm that was sold in the 1970s. Like most of the family farms in that area (and the rest of America), it is no longer a dairy farm although some of the land is planted in corn. It was a bit sad to see the old barn needing paint and the fences taken down, but the house had been expanded and looked cared for.

We also stopped by the Busti Cemetery for a look at the family plot. Frank’s grandparents, Harold and Dorothy, are among the many relatives buried there.

We continued on to Chautauqua Institution where Sylvia and Barbara spent most of the time browsing the crafts exhibits around Bestor Plaza as the rest of us walked through the village taking in the lake views and historic architecture (most of it four-square and Victorian wood-frame dwellings). We also visited the Athenaeum Hotel and spent some minutes on its grand porch overlooking the lake.

Chautauqua is known to be a multi-denominational enclave where people strive to find their common ground and the pursuit of truths is highly valued. The town’s three dozen or so square blocks were carefully laid out to make it a pedestrian friendly. As a result, cars are not really necessary and have therefore been restricted within the institution. Most visitors park their cars in a large parking lot across the highway and walk or bicycle in. It’s the kind of place were you see artists painting scenery, musicians playing on street corners and people playing lawn sports typically associated with the gentry class.

We had a wonderful afternoon at Chautauqua and Jonnie and Frank decided they would like to spend a week there some year.

We then met Frank’s Aunts Beverly and Shirley and Shirley’s husband, Louis, at a local restaurant for dinner, followed by an informal gathering at Uncle Louie and Aunt Shirley’s house to look at photos of the trip.

Day 50 (The Hazzard Family tree)

Day 50
August 10, 2006
Niagara Falls, ON to Busti, NY (122 miles)

None of us had ever been through Buffalo before, and it wasn’t a particularly appealing city (think Richmond and Toledo), but we all agreed it was nice to be “home” when we crossed back into New York. We knew nothing of the terrorists who had been arrested earlier in the day in London after a plot to blow up 5 Air Canada planes with liquid bombs had been discovered and averted by British authorities. Our boarder crossing consisted of four questions: “What is your citizenship?” “How long have you been in Canada?” “Where are you going?” “What did you buy in Canada that you are bringing into the United States?” The whole process took about 1 minute.

Our destination today was Busti, New York, a hamlet on the New York-Pennsylvania border where Frank’s father grew up and many of his relatives on his father’s side still live. We drove to Frank’s Aunt Shirley and Uncle Louie’s house on a rural road outside of town and set up our trailer in their front yard.

The kids got a kick out of one of two "Hazzard" Streets, located in Frewsburg, New York, near Busti. We decided to take Elliot's picture under the sign because, if you will recall, we found an "Elliot" Street in Minneapolis earlier in the trip and took his photo with it. Notice that Elliot is growing up, as evidenced by his height and prowess with his dad's cell phone.

We next drove a short distance to Frank’s cousin’s Nancy’s home where Elliot and Emily played with her three daughters. Later in the afternoon, we were joined by Frank’s parents and his brother, Jonathan and Jonathan’s wife, Barbara, and about 50 other relatives for an evening picnic at Earl Lawson Park in Busti. The family made tons of great food that I think we were especially grateful for after our limited diet over the past seven weeks.

People had such a great time that no one seemed to be in a hurry to leave; the majority stayed until well after dark. Frank enjoyed getting re-aquainted with Norm's cousin, Jim Seely, a brother fire fighter on the job in Jamestown.

We slept well in our trailer except that it was so quiet that we seemed to notice even the littlest sounds that we might otherwise not hear.

Day 49 (A barrel for four, please)

Day 49
August 9, 2006
Niagara Falls

What a varied nation (er, continent) we have, eh? When we were in Utah, it was so extremely dry; water was a valued commodity that was rationed with timed showers and austere water restrictions. Today, in Niagara Falls, where more water went over the edge in a second than all the people in Zion National Park could use in a week, water seemed to be squandered. For example, we saw a man spraying off a huge concrete patio with a garden hose. Strange in contrast.

The thing about Niagara Falls that makes it special is the volume of water in combination with its height and width. There is nothing else quite like it anywhere that you can drive to from Maryland easily.

We recall being told that the over-commercialization of Niagara Falls was one of the primary motivations for preserving other national treasures, including Yellowstone and Grand Canyon. It is extensively commercialized. If fact, since we visited the falls three years ago, they have added new, more elaborate means of viewing the falls from above, below, beside and behind, including a hot air balloon ride. Fortunately, it’s still free to walk up and gaze at the wonder of goo-gobs of water falling 176 feet (although you must pay to park).

The shorelines on both sides of the river are at the same elevation as the top of the falls, so visitors are looking down on the river from a height of nearly 200 feet. The river makes a 90 degree turn just below the falls, which sort of cheats those on the American side out of a good view and gives those in Canada a panoramic vista.

There are three falls, actually. As it approaches the falls, the Niagara River divides into two streams that are about a quarter mile apart by the time they reach the falls. The main attraction is Horseshoe Falls, which is a semi-circle waterfall of more than 180 degrees and produces a perpetual roar and a curtain of mist that goes up in the air about as high above the viewer as the base of the falls is below. In the afternoon, with the low sun behind them, people standing on the Canadian side looking east are frequently treated to a rainbow, or sometimes two.

To the left of the Horseshoe Falls are, first, Bridal Vale Falls and then Lower Falls. These are beautiful and would be legitimately impressive on their own, but are upstaged by Horseshoe. We learned that the stone precipice that the water breaks over is eroded as much as six feet in some years and that over millions of years the falls have “moved” 30 miles. Our question was, does this mean that the falls will eventually be in New York or does the international border remain the center of the river no matter where the river lies?

We decided to spend the time and money to ride Maid of the Mist, a tugboat style ferry boat that transports passengers up stream past Lower and Bridal Vale Falls and inside the semicircle formed by Horseshoe. Passengers are given their choice of the upper, open deck or the covered, lower one. We choose the upper. Upon boarding the boat we were issued disposable rain ponchos (blue trash bags with neck and arm holes). When we arrived at Horseshoe, the boat sounded like it was really working against the current to hold its position and a recorded message came over loudspeakers saying “Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Niagara Falls!” Everyone cheered and even jaded adults were impressed by the volume of water, roar and the precipitating mist (steady rain), which were on a scale that we would not have predicted by simply viewing the falls from the shoreline.

After we got our fill of the falls, we returned to the campground and decided to have a campfire. Frank hardly flinched when a bundle of wood about the right size for a modest 3-hour fire came to $8.50 (Canadian). The fire was almost as perfect as the s’mores that Emily and Elliot roasted. In spite of the costs, the Niagara KOA was a very nice place.

Day 48 (Oh, Canada)

Day 48
August 8, 2006
Mackinaw City, MI to Niagara Falls, ON (513 miles)

We started south from Mackinaw City on I-75 not sure exactly where we would stop. We knew it would be a 500 mile drive to Niagara Falls, which sounded agonizing to us, so we planned to get at least into Canada and then decide where we would stop. We made great time on the first 300 miles to Port Huron, Michigan, where we planned to cross into Canada (Sarnia, Ontario). We drove first through heavily wooded, open land and then the Rust Belt cities of Saginaw and Flint before turning east on I-69 and heading toward the Port Huron. The Blue Water Bridge connects Ontario route 402, the freeway from Toronto, with Interstates 69 and 94. This crossing is the fourth busiest on the U.S. - Canada border.

At the border we presented our passports and were asked what we were bringing into the country, including, specifically, if we had any produce, weapons and liquor. After getting the green light, we drove forward a few hundred feet and exchanged $40 US into $43.85 Canadian.

The biggest difference we noticed as we started driving across southern Ontario was every unit of measure familiar to us, except time, was different. The radio stations were Canadian, too, and gave weather reports in Celsius, which was essentially meaningless to us. We learned that 100 kilometers per hour was roughly equivalent to 63 MPH. The price of gas was really tricky for us because it was quoted in dollars per liter. We had to first figure out how many liters per gallon and then the exchange rate. If we did the math right, gas was going for about $4.11 (U.S.) per gallon. We were glad we filled up in America at $3.06 per gallon.

We didn’t find a campground that appealed to us and we weren’t that tired of driving, so we kept going. The thought of spending two nights in the same place rather than one night in each of two places really appealed to us at this stage of our journey, so we continued on. The kilometers really flew by and before we knew it we were approaching Niagara Falls. We pulled into the Niagara Falls KOA at dusk (8:30 PM) and finished setting up in the dark.

It didn’t take us long to figure out that everything in Canada costs more than it does in America. Our KOA campsite was about $60 (U.S.) per night—the same type site cost us $27 in Mitchell, South Dakota last week. Even when you consider that Mitchell’s Corn Palace isn’t quite the same destination as Niagara’s falls, the popularity of the place alone cannot account for difference in price.

We ate a simple meal in the trailer, went to bed and slept well in the 15 degree weather.

Day 47 (Is it a C or a W?)

Day 47
August 7, 2006
Mackinac Island

Mackinac Island is a wonderful mix of Disney World (pristine streets, impeccable landscaping and no vehicular traffic), Bar Harbor (seasonal tourist town), Mount Vernon (bicycle trails everywhere), Seattle (hydro-jet ferries zipping around), Williamsburg (horses used for labor and people roaming around in period clothing), Price Edward Island (pebble-covered “beaches” where Nordic peoples who apparently had never been to a proper beach were swimming in cool water and having the times of their lives), and Newport (waterfront wood-frame buildings).

We set out across “The Straits” with almost no preconceptions about what we would find on the other side. The trip via hydro-jet ferry at 27 knots took about 25 minutes. At the kids’ suggestion, we took seats on the open, second deck where we were treated to some very gusty winds and occasional water spray as our boat rolled and rocked its way along under mostly sunny skies and an air temperature of 70 degrees.

Beginning with our first glimpse of the Island we were impressed. The place has character with a capital C. Basically it’s a small island, heavily forested except for where a small town exists, with a one-lane-wide paved road around its circumference that has been divided into two lanes for use by bicycles and horse-drawn wagons. The town is two streets deep by eight streets wide. There are a number of very nice hotels and B and Bs in town, each smartly painted and landscaped to the hilt with flowers. For about three blocks along the water where the ferries come in, there is a flurry of activity including young men toting carts by hand with luggage and other stuffs on them. Horse transportation is big on Mackinac. There are horse-drawn taxis, tours, garbage wagons and even a UPS wagon!

We rented bikes and rode around the island’s perimeter (eight miles). It was mostly flat, but not entirely. The highest point on Mackinac Island is about 320 feet above Lake Huron level (577 feet). At one point we stopped to take some photos of Arch Rock, a “window” rock through which we could see the bike path below us and Lake Huron beyond it—very picturesque. After finishing the loop around Mackinac’s perimeter, we rode around through the streets of the town and up to Fort Mackinac, which dates back to 1779.

We ate lunch in Mary’s Bistro, which advertised “an eclectic mix” of foods. The food was good, but the portions were a bit small, especially after riding bikes for two hours.

We spent the next few hours shopping, although we quickly realized that there wasn’t much for sale except fudge and tacky tee shirts. Frank almost bought the one that said “My Indian name is Drinks the Beer,” but Sessy vetoed the purchase. Given the ambiance of the town, we were disappointed in the quality of the stores.

Even Frank, known for his poor spelling, noticed that “Mackinac (Mackinaw)” is spelled two ways, so, being the inquisitive guy that he is, he had to ask why. If you are not as inquisitive, you may want to skip the following paragraph.

The Native Americans who lived on the northern tip of what is now the Lower Peninsula of Michigan named the area, including the Straits and Island “Michinni-Makinong.” We don’t know the literal translation, but we’re pretty sure it meant “windy, cold lake lands.” When the French came, they butchered the Indian name and started calling things “Mackinac.” When the English followed, they bastardized the name a little more with a phonetic spelling, “Mackinaw.” Today, the only name with a W is the town on the main land, Mackinaw City; everything else uses the C.

Emily was the only member of the family who wanted to swim in Lake Huron (no surprise!) She said it was warm once you got used to it. We were surprised by the cleanliness and color of the water. It was Destin-like with its shades of aqua.

Day 46 (Full Moon over Lake Huron)

Day 46
August 6, 2006
Cedar River, MI to Mackinaw City, MI (172 miles)

We broke camp and drove back down to Menominee where we had breakfast at Schloegel’s, a landmark restaurant on the shore of Green Bay. It was a wonderful experience to be among locals, most with gray hair, overhearing the warm greetings of small town Americans spoken with a decidedly U.P. accent. Great stuff.

After breakfast, we hurried to get good seats along the parade route for the annual parade that marks the culmination of the Waterfront Festival. We were joined by thousands of townsfolk who lined the main drag through town to watch an eclectic gathering of politicians, businesses, marching bands, philanthropic clubs and fire trucks take part in a parade that went on for more than two hours. The underlying theme of the whole thing was the distribution of candy by parade participants to children lining the streets. Emily and Elliot collected about seven pounds of candy that was tossed at their feet.

It seemed like half of the town’s 10,000 inhabitants were in the parade, and the other half were watching it. We saw, among other things, a joint forces military color guard with an Army soldier in dress uniform with white socks, a cement pump truck decked out with balloons, a garbage truck, a World War II vintage Army half-track, Tripoli Order miniature Volkswagen Beatles speeding around in complicated patterns with the pinpoint precision of the Blue Angels, and a flatbed truck stacked high with produce that employees of a grocery store were busily handing out to the crowd (we received an apple and a nectarine).

After two hours of endearing entertainment, we decided to leave for points north even though we feared we might miss something really notable.

Our drive along the coast of Green Bay and then Lake Michigan was quite beautiful, especially on Michigan’s North Shore. Except for occasional small towns, the route was heavily wooded on both sides of the road. Every once in a while we would get glimpses of the lake, which had some pretty impressive waves on it. We stopped at the northern-most point and walked out on the beach to have a look. The water was an aqua color, much cleaner than we remember Lakes Erie and Ontario looking. We put our hands in the water to test the temperature and found it surprisingly warm. As it turns out, local residents later told us that Lake Michigan is as warm as it's been in their lifetimes, and they blame it on this year's drought and very high temperatures.

The bridge from the Upper to the Lower Peninsula across the Straits of Mackinac was impressive, rivaling the Chesapeake Bay Bridge in height and length. Wind restrictions for vehicles towing trailers required us to drive at 20 MPH, giving us extra time to look around as we crossed.

Our destination, Mackinaw Mill Creek, ended up being an absolutely gigantic private campground with more than 800 campsites. We were given a site right on Lake Huron and after setting up we were treated to an almost full moon rising over the water.

Just as we went to bed, we experienced a sudden and strong downpour, giving us the impression that weather can change quickly on the tip of a peninsula surrounded by hundreds of miles of open lakes.

Day 45 (Traversing America’s Dairyland)

Day 45
August 5, 2006
Apple Valley, MN to Cedar River, MI (363 miles)

We slept well but as we were eating breakfast it began to rain, so we had no choice but to fold up the trailer in the rain for the first time on this trip. As luck would have it, the rain stopped just as we were pulling out of the campground. In spite of the lousy weather during our last hour in Apple Valley, we felt sad to be leaving such a nice town.

Wisconsin is appropriately dubbed “America’s Dairyland.” As we drove east across it today, through Eau Claire and Wausau to Marinette, we must have passed 5,000 dairy farms. Some were obviously commercial operations with complexes of huge metal barns and as many as a dozen silos and feed bins, but most appeared to be family farms with two or three silos and one modest barn built 200 feet or so from a farmhouse. The drive was not as tiring for us as our drives were in recent days. Perhaps it was the more stimulating scenery or perhaps we are getting better at sitting in a car for 8 hours at a time. There was one segment of Route 64 near Marinette, however, that was as straight as an arrow for more than 40 miles—mind numbing. We stopped in Eau Claire to look around because our good friend from church, Leslie Hartz, grew up there, and again in Menominee, Michigan, because Frank’s college roommate, Steve Grassl, summered there for many years as a child. As we drove down Claremont, the main street through Eau Claire, it seemed like it would be a wholesome place to grow up—middle America embodied.

Eau Claire and Menominee are in many ways different. As it turned out, without planning, we arrived in Menominee during the town’s annual Waterfront Festival, a raucous 4-day celebration of the town’s proximity to Green Bay, complete with carnival rides, live music and a beer tent which was being patronized by hundreds of locals. We looked around for a few minutes, the kids went down an inflatable slide a few times and then we decided it was time to continue on to our final destination, a Michigan state park on the Bay about a half hour north of Menominee. As we were walking back to our “rig,” hundreds of motorcycles roared into town, much to the delight of the townsfolk who lined First Street and hooted and hollered with big grins on their faces. We had never experienced anything quite like it! Obviously not all the bikers in the Midwest were in Sturgis this week! We later learned that the motorcyclists were members of the Triple C Motorcycle Club, which raised $5,600 for charity by riding their bikes this weekend, although we were not clear on why people would give them money.

Menominee obviously has some working class as well as some moneyed residents. There are grand homes on the lake that rival the ones we saw yesterday in Cathedral Hill (St. Paul). Steve told us that the “old money” in Menominee came from the timber and paper industries. It is apparent that at least some of that money stayed in the town.

We arrived at J.W. Wells State Park, a very nice, wooded, campground on the shores of Green Bay near the town of Cedar River, shortly before sundown and quickly cooked turkey chili for dinner. We feel asleep in cool but very humid conditions with the sounds of Lake Michigan’s waves echoing lightly through our screens. Elliot said it reminded him of camping at Assateague Island.

Day 44 (Our surrogate home)

Day 44
August 4, 2006
Twin Cities

Today started out mostly cloudy—the first clouds we’ve seen since we arrived in Minnesota. The overnight dew wasn’t as heavy, though, making it a little more pleasant for sleeping. By 10 AM, the clouds had cleared and blue skies prevailed.

We drove to both of the Twin Cities today and checked them out. St. Paul has a population of about 285K, and Minneapolis has 385K—both seemed smallish. We always thought that the two were on opposite banks of the Mississippi River, but actually, they both straddle it. Although Minneapolis is technically upstream from St. Paul, the river makes a couple of 180 degree turns within a few miles so that the two cities are actually next to each other, with their central business districts about 9 miles apart.

We liked Minneapolis more overall, but St. Paul had its strengths, including several historic steamboats moored in the Mississippi near its downtown, the State Capitol and Cathedral Hill, a beautiful, historic residential neighborhood which resembled Rolland Park in Baltimore and Upper Northwest in DC. The Riverfront in Minneapolis, dubbed the “Mill Ruins District,” is undergoing a redevelopment that is transforming a blighted industrial area into a high-end residential neighborhood. The centerpiece of this district is Stone Arch Bridge, a curving former railroad bridge that has been refurbished and is now for pedestrians only. We walked across to the East Bank where we could look back across the river at the skyline.

The Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome was ugly. It looked like a low-budget, worst-of-class monstrosity that even a Twins fanatic couldn’t really ever learn to like. The city is planning to build a new stadium and it is needed.

On the way home from the cities we had another family council meeting to plan out the rest of the day. The results were that Frank would take the minivan for an oil change while Sessy, Elliot and Emily went to see Barnyard at a nearby theater. Then, after the movie, we agreed to shop for groceries and then return to the community swimming pool in Apple Valley followed by Chinese carryout for dinner.

The movie was a hit with all three of them. And we all loved the pool, although the air was not as warm as it was yesterday. After asking several people where to go for good Chinese food and receiving three recommendations for Big Bowl, we decided to give it a try. We have concluded that there is a dearth of good Chinese food in Dakota County—the first strike against the place. Emily said today that it was “the best day of [her] life” because she was with her family, got to see a movie and got to go back to “that awesome pool with four water slides.” Although pleased that she was having her best day ever while on the vacation that we so carefully planned, Frank and Sessy were left wondering aloud “Why have we driven more than 7,000 miles?”

Of all the places we’ve been on this journey, Apple Valley not only reminded us of home, but in many ways seemed better than home to us. Emily said during dinner tonight that she was ready to move here. Frank reminded everyone that it might be a good idea to spend a week here in January before we put a for sale sign in front of our house.

Day 43 (The land of the 3-days-long vowels)

Day 43
August 3, 2006
Mall of America

Heavy dew fell in central Minnesota last night, giving the grass and all other surfaces a delicate, silvery sheen. There was even some mist in the early morning air. We are definitely closer to home!

The day dawned cloudless and chilly (60 degrees), the bright sun streaming into the east side of our trailer. Elliot and Frank woke up early and read their books while Sessy and Emily slept a bit longer.

Simply put, the Mall of America (MOA) is a retail Mecca with 520 stores on four levels plus the nation’s largest indoor amusement park. Built near the airport on the land formerly occupied by Metropolitan Stadium, where the Twins played before their current Metrodome was built, the mall has a simple, practical, yet attractive design. Basically, it’s a square; there are four, 4-story legs with open atria lined on both sides with stores (like every other mall in America). Department stores, Bloomingdale’s, Macy’s, Sears, and Nordstrom, are located at the four corners of the square, and the courtyard, also four stories tall and enclosed by a glass roof, contains the amusement park, complete with a flume ride, 2 roller coasters, Ferris wheel and many other smaller rides. Wrist bands for the amusement park cost $25 each.

In the morning, Frank took the kids on the rides while Sessy shopped. We met up for lunch at the Rain Forest Café, complete with robotic animals, mist, and thunderstorm/rain effects.

Sessy said that although most of the national chain stores were represented at MOA, she was disappointed that some weren’t. In general, MOA was not as high-end as the Mall in Columbia.

While at Super Target last night and again today at the Mall of America, we heard lots of long vowels— especially O’s, but E’s and A’s as well. Elliot has the accent down and spent some time in the car on the way to the mall amusing us with his antics. Just like in the movie “Fargo,” it’s not just the accent, but word choices, sentence structures and nouns, that combine to make Upper Midwest speech so endearing. “Sack (grocery bag),” “Buggy (shopping cart),” “Ramp (parking garage)” and “Pop (soda)” are commonly used. We were hoping to hear an “Any who ha” or a “Yah sure, you bet” today, but, unfortunately, didn’t. Elliot did hear a “You betcha” near the Lake Woebegone Store on the third level, north side.

We left the mall at 4 PM and went to an airport park near Minneapolis-St. Paul International where we watched planes, mostly Northwest because it’s a hub, land and take off.

We then drove to a huge and beautiful outdoor municipal swimming pool in Apple Valley, near our campground, where we swam before returning to the trailer. While driving back to the campground, we turned over 7,000 miles since leaving home.

Day 42 (Corn)

Day 42
August 2, 2006
Mitchell, SD to Apple Valley, MN (318 miles)

At one point today we realized that we were going to be only eight miles from Iowa when we drove along I-90 east of Sioux Falls. It was a unanimous decision that we would exit the Interstate and drive south into Iowa. We chose County Road 6 from several parallel, 2-lane roads that headed south. The state line was anticlimactic. The only indication that we had crossed into Iowa was that the road changed from asphalt to gravel. Corn was on both sides of the road on both sides of the line.

Rather than return to the Interstate, we decided to parallel it for about 30 miles on a Minnesota state highway, which was completely straight as it carried us over the rolling hills that stretched out ahead. It was a great experience. At one point, we drove alongside a corn field that went on for seven miles, interrupted only twice by what appeared to be two narrow driveways.

We took Minnesota Route 60 for 300 miles northeast through Mankato to the Twin Cities area. In the beginning we saw only corn, save a few small towns. As we approached our destination, however, we saw mostly corn plus a few lakes. The first part reminded us of the Eastern Shore of Maryland—flat to gently rolling and rural (only it went on for 250 miles instead of only 100). The lakes region didn’t look like anything we’ve seen before (picture Columbia’s Wilde Lake, then Kittamaqundi, followed by 100 or so more). At one point, after riding silently in the back seat for about an hour, Elliot asked, “What do they do with all this corn?”

Mankato was cool. It’s a college town—Minnesota State University plus two smaller schools—built along the Minnesota River with a compelling historic district that seemed to be a nice cross between Salisbury, Cumberland and Westminster, Maryland. We’d like to check it out in more detail some (summer!) day.

Our destination was the Bloomington area, a suburb of Minneapolis-St. Paul. We picked Dakota County’s Lebanon Hills Park Campground in Apple Valley, based on what we read on the Internet (principally that it was only 10 minutes from the Mall of America). As it turns out, it was a great choice. The park’s beautiful campground, located in an upscale suburb that easily could be part of the Norbeck, Veirs Mill, Randolph Road section of Montgomery County, Maryland, is being run by a very nice couple from northwestern South Dakota. After being in rugged, rural desert areas for the past month, this environment felt very familiar and reassuring to us.

We set up the trailer and drove a short distance to a Super Target and bought some of the things we’ve done without for the past month. Nice.

Day 41 (Down East)

Day 41
August 1, 2006
Custer State Park, SD to Mitchell, SD (325 miles)

After hearing Frank and Emily rave about their walk around Sylvan Lake, Sessy and Elliot said they wanted to walk it, so in spite of the full day of travel ahead of us, we took the time to hike before setting out. They agreed that it was one of the best hiking experiences they could remember.

We learned this morning that Mt. Harney, in the Black Hills, is the highest point in South Dakota and that there is a trail to its top that you can walk up without climbing gear. The hike supposedly takes most people about 6 hours, round trip. Too bad we didn’t allow more time for Custer State Park because we felt as though we were leaving too soon.

This marked our first day of driving home. Although we drove almost 500 miles east across Wyoming the day before yesterday, we were, in our minds, headed toward Mount Rushmore instead of home. Today the primary objective was to put as much of the Great Plains as possible to our west. On our way out of the Black Hills toward Rapid City, we lost about 3,000 feet in elevation, and then continued to descend the rest of the day. We feared that we would be entering a sun-baked plain (yet again). But that wasn’t the case. It was overcast and cool east of the Black Hills and remained that way the whole day. Only two days before it was 110 degrees in central South Dakota as the entire western United States baked under a heat wave. That heat wave was pushed east by a strong cold front which has moved the beastly weather east (to Baltimore and Washington), thank goodness.

The themes of Mount Rushmore and Crazy Horse Monument, namely frontiersmen desperate for tourist dollars using their ingenuity to secure them, were repeated today. It seems that South Dakota was so remote and barren that it was (and, apparently, still is) very hard to make an honest living any way other than farming and tourism.

Wall Drug and the Corn Palace are great examples of this necessity-inspired creativity. Both are first-order tourist traps. Wall Drug is best described to East Coasters as South of the Border West. In 1931, during the depths of the Depression, Ted and Dorothy Hustead bought the drugstore on Main Street in Wall, South Dakota. They lived in the back of the store and struggled for five years to make ends meet until Dorothy came up with the idea of putting up a few billboards along Highway 16A as a means of siphoning off some of the tourists (and dollars) traveling back and forth to see Mount Rushmore. The first billboards advertised free ice water. Shortly thereafter they advertised cheap coffee and other loss-leaders to build traffic. Today Wall Drug occupies the whole block and then some, making Wall what it is today. We spent about 2 hours and $75 there ourselves!

About 100 miles east of Wall, a weird feeling came over all of us. We became sluggish and sodden. We felt a bit hot under the collar, too, in spite of the 79 degree temperature. This was not a new feeling to any of us, but it we hadn’t felt it for four weeks. Humidity.

As soon as we felt some humidity, we started seeing corn. Within 50 miles, all we saw was corn. Both sides of I-90 to the north and south horizons and for as far as the eye could see ahead, was corn.

In 1892, Mitchell, South Dakota, was a poor farming community struggling like the rest of the Midwest for an identity and revenue to sustain itself. A group of farmers barrowed from an idea that some folks had in Plankinton, another town a few miles to the west of Mitchell, to build the World’s first and only Grain Palace. Soon the Corn Palace was born. For more than 100 years and now in its fourth location, the Mitchell Corn Palace has drawn the curious from near and far for a peak at a 35-foot-tall, block-square building with all of its exterior walls covered in an intricate mosaic comprised of corn cobs of various types and colors. Each year’s theme is different; for 2006 it’s “Rodeo,” and all of the artwork fits that theme. The interior of the present-day Corn Palace is a multi-purpose civic center, housing a gift shop that was doing a brisk business while we were there.

The principal advantage of driving across the country on a seven week trip is that you get to see thousands of things that you might never experience otherwise, including, for example, a pop-up/moving van jalopy complete with a Granny’s chair strapped on the back.