<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937119275496148766</id><updated>2011-04-21T14:57:07.160-07:00</updated><category term='the last one continued'/><category term='christine'/><category term='rushmore'/><category term='welcome to interior'/><category term='phil'/><category term='Cincy'/><category term='the beginning'/><category term='cave'/><category term='badlands exit'/><category term='the plan'/><title type='text'>Christine and Phil's Cross Country Honeymoon</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Phil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05005657560737208150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/R3rka1AMA7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Zaee-_yqUSo/S220/irabu+on+fire.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>20</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937119275496148766.post-8454493603360185213</id><published>2008-08-16T07:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T23:20:33.152-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Escape From Tennessee</title><content type='html'>We packed up from Nashville finally, and began making our long &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;trek&lt;/span&gt; back home. Christine had asked if &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;we could&lt;/span&gt; stop by Smokey Mountain National Park on the way, but it was getting late and would be dark by the time we got there. We didn't plan on making any more stops in Tennessee, until we saw signs for one of the last great country mountain ranges.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;DOLLYWOOD&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Dollywood&lt;/span&gt; is located about 20 minutes off of exit 407 in a very touristy area. There are literally dozens of arcades, go cart areas, miniature golf, hotels and any sort of family fun attraction you can think of really. We got to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Dollywood&lt;/span&gt; in time to see it closing and we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;literally&lt;/span&gt; drove into the parking lot and drove out. Meaning we are now 2-2 in getting to a place on time, to see it closing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got a room at a Best Western and found our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;accommodations&lt;/span&gt; surprisingly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;accommodating&lt;/span&gt;. Finding a place at a reasonable price, that is clean and orderly would have been enough, but this room came with an added bonus. Hot tub! Very relaxing and being able to actually have a full bath and shower was a nice change from the small, uncomfortable showers we had been used to being on the road for so long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We priced out &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Dollywood&lt;/span&gt; tickets and found them &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;unreasonably&lt;/span&gt; expensive. It costs 53.00 to get in.. per person, and being this close to home and our funds beginning to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;diminish&lt;/span&gt;, and really not liking Dolly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Parton&lt;/span&gt; enough to go there, we decided to pass on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Dollywood&lt;/span&gt; and get back on the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The road led us into a town &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;outside&lt;/span&gt; of Knoxville called, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Gatlinburg&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Gatlinburg&lt;/span&gt; is again, a very touristy area. Lots of family friendly entertainment venues, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;including&lt;/span&gt; the world famous, Ripley's Believe It Or Not, where we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;decided&lt;/span&gt; to visit this fine day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ripley's had many interesting facts, fun optical illusions and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;shrunken&lt;/span&gt; heads. One thing that was clear was that Mr. Ripley led a very fascinating life, and the museum does its best to represent it. At times it seems like it looses focus and puts &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;ascetics&lt;/span&gt; and flair &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;in front&lt;/span&gt; of the things Ripley found &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;throughout&lt;/span&gt; his life time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Highlights-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil- A &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;locke&lt;/span&gt; of George Washington's hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christine- Holograms, sword &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;swallowers&lt;/span&gt; and the "sticking shadow".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SKe-WopMS3I/AAAAAAAAAY8/WOHmyPdHm1k/s1600-h/ripleys.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235362387918080882" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SKe-WopMS3I/AAAAAAAAAY8/WOHmyPdHm1k/s320/ripleys.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;Lowlights&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil- A picture and life sized replica of an 8'2" man. Why can't they have the man there? Why should I have to look at an 8'2" giant candle that is supposed to be a wax figure of him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christine- Would have liked more hands on interaction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SKfBSL5jK7I/AAAAAAAAAZU/3w_IhS5T9MM/s1600-h/zoltar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235365610017467314" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SKfBSL5jK7I/AAAAAAAAAZU/3w_IhS5T9MM/s320/zoltar.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;At the end of the tour there is a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;Zoltar&lt;/span&gt; fortune telling machine, similar to the one seen in the Tom Hanks classic "Big". Christine got her fortune from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;Zoltar&lt;/span&gt;, and unlike the one from "Big" this one was plugged in. It is fitting that the tour ended with a replica from Tom Hanks movie, because &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;our&lt;/span&gt; next stop led us into another Hanks classic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;Bubba&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;Gump&lt;/span&gt; Shrimp Company, from the Hanks classic, "Forrest &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;Gump&lt;/span&gt;," where we went for lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235362878409152274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="195" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SKe-zL3YFxI/AAAAAAAAAZE/TKBlX8pfbcI/s320/bubba.jpg" width="284" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;(Side Note: I think there is a small list of celebrities who get so famous that they stop doing stuff and get to a point where they can just do whatever they want. I put Tom Hanks on the top of this list. Followed by people like Garth Brooks, Julia Roberts, and Madonna. Sure there are more people so famous they can do whatever they want, if you can list some feel free to add names when you comment)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A real fast run down. Fun environment, the drink menu on a ping pong paddle, and license plates donning the famous quotes, "run Forrest run" and "Stop Forrest stop". The plates are used to call the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;attention&lt;/span&gt; of the waitstaff when you need something. The walls are covered in pictures taken during the filming of Forest &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;Gump&lt;/span&gt;, along with signs that reference scenes from the film, and other &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;quirks&lt;/span&gt; that tie into the time period. The food was really good (better than you would think, but no "Cock of he Walk").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235363228239052834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SKe_HjFUwCI/AAAAAAAAAZM/YZtL1y4AGvo/s320/bubb2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing that bothered me was the music. Don't get me wrong, I think Madonna's Greatest Hits and &lt;a href="http://http//www.youtube.com/watch?v=OG3PnQ3tgzY"&gt;"&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;Puttin&lt;/span&gt;' On The Ritz" by Taco &lt;/a&gt;all have their place in music history and American society, I just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; think they fit in with the ambiance and the place. Perhaps music from the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;soundtrack&lt;/span&gt;, or more pieces that were around during the generations that the film spanned would have been more appropriate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent the rest of the day driving and the long road is finally drawing to a close. We will try to sit down and update the blog when we get home. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7937119275496148766-8454493603360185213?l=thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/feeds/8454493603360185213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7937119275496148766&amp;postID=8454493603360185213' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/8454493603360185213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/8454493603360185213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/2008/08/escape-from-tennessee.html' title='Escape From Tennessee'/><author><name>Phil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05005657560737208150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/R3rka1AMA7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Zaee-_yqUSo/S220/irabu+on+fire.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SKe-WopMS3I/AAAAAAAAAY8/WOHmyPdHm1k/s72-c/ripleys.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937119275496148766.post-9173417432423023230</id><published>2008-08-14T20:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T22:10:30.222-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jack Daniel's, The Cock of the Walk</title><content type='html'>Three quick points before we begin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) I was surprised to hear a few day ago that there was a war brewing in Georgia.  I really thought there was some racial or family tension that had been brewing, Hatfield and McCoy style that finally blew up.  Boy, was I shocked to find out Georgia was a small Russian satellite country.  And to think all this time I thought it was a state in the U.S.  I don't remember traveling that far to visit Christine's family.  And to Curt and Colleen, stay strong and don't let those forces over take your home or your spirit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) I noticed today that I am developing a southern twang when I say certain words.  When I arrive back in the northeast, please feel free to greet to me with a kick in the shin or a slap on the wrist whenever certain words come out with a southern drawl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) We have spent some time reading Mitch &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Albom&lt;/span&gt; books and have realized a few key points. 1) We are both now realizing we must be ready for death, and to do that we must enjoy life, and 2) While Mitch &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Albom&lt;/span&gt; is not the best writer I have ever read, he is the best story teller, and a sit down of his books is needed.  None take a long time, because (again) he is such a fine story teller, you never want to put down the book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On to the blog&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started off with a trip to one of the last great slices &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;of&lt;/span&gt; Americana, The Jack Daniels &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Distillery&lt;/span&gt; in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Lynchburg&lt;/span&gt;, Tennessee.  Phil checked out the website and noticed that they give tours every 15minutes from 9:00am- 6:15pm.  There are two ultimate ironies to this story.  The first being that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Lynchburg&lt;/span&gt; is one of the last 'dry' counties in the United States.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;That's&lt;/span&gt; right, in the home of Jack Daniel's No7 Whiskey.. you can't actually drink the whiskey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SKUJG4_3aMI/AAAAAAAAAYs/_pMzf_XdeM4/s1600-h/PICT0038.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SKUJG4_3aMI/AAAAAAAAAYs/_pMzf_XdeM4/s320/PICT0038.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234600155872192706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sounds odd, but it makes sense.  The brew was banned during prohibition, and when the law was repealed, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Lynchburg&lt;/span&gt; found it important to leave the ban intact.  After visiting a town like Interior, S.D., it's obvious to see why it makes &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;sense&lt;/span&gt;.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Lynchburg&lt;/span&gt;, is the smallest county in Tennessee, and the majority of the people work either in the J.D. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;distillery&lt;/span&gt; or in some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;facit&lt;/span&gt; of it in the area.   A small area like this, with a near overabundant supply of whiskey could easily turn from wonderful small town, tourist trap, into ..well.. Interior.  A small town with nice enough people, who allow the perils and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;irresponsibility's&lt;/span&gt; of living in a small town to take advantage of them.  They seem to respect the law and what the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;distillery&lt;/span&gt; means to the community.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived at 5:00, which was a bad thing.  Phil had read the website wrong and the last tour was at 4:30 and not 6:15.  We had traveled an hour and arrived in enough time to see nothing but a locked door.  Christine walked around the building and found a door where people from the last tour were leaving out of and we used that opportunity to more or less sneak into the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;museum&lt;/span&gt; area.  Christine explained to one of the women working there our predicament and how we had traveled so far, and she told us to walk around for a bit, and she would re-fire up the 5 minute &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;introductory&lt;/span&gt; film they show before the tour an allow us to view it.  While she got it ready we walked around a bit and went to the store to buy some Jack Daniel's (which we would not be able to drink here).  The following conversation took place:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lady- We have these 4 different bottles available today.  The first has a picture and story of a man whittling and what it means to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;distillery&lt;/span&gt;, the second has Jack Daniel himself on the front and these two are in a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;remembrance&lt;/span&gt; of two of our five awards that we have won.  Which of the four would you like to buy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil- (pause)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christine- (pause) ..we'll..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil- Great, we'll take one of each.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christine- One of each.?.?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil- We traveled a long way to get here.  We are going home with something.  We will give a couple away, and we will keep a couple for ourselves, or do something with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we made our purchase we made our way to the next great irony in our story. We were led into a small movie theater, where we were the only two seated and the nice woman who Christine had spoken to earlier allowed us to view the brief introductory film, where we learned great fact like Jack Daniel was on 5'2" tall, and that J.D. is literally poured through cedar coal as part of its &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;distilleration&lt;/span&gt; process.  What is so ironic about this?  We taped the movie, and made a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;bootleg&lt;/span&gt; in the whiskey museum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SKUGQh5TvmI/AAAAAAAAAYk/vR2iGmbVSrE/s1600-h/jack+car.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SKUGQh5TvmI/AAAAAAAAAYk/vR2iGmbVSrE/s400/jack+car.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234597022934482530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the film we walked around a bit more and posed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;infront&lt;/span&gt; of the No7 Jack Daniel's Clint &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Bowyer&lt;/span&gt; car, which is in the museum as well as read some interesting facts about the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;distilleration&lt;/span&gt; process, the history of Jack Daniel and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;Lynchburg&lt;/span&gt; County, Tenn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didn't get the full tour, which was my own (Phil's) fault.  But we did get to experience part of the tour at least, and get idea of what happened there and the process involved, which was still pretty cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We proceeded our way to camp and had decided we would have dinner at the place next door, "The Cock of the Walk", upon getting a positive recommendation from a fellow camper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now in my life time I (Phil) have heard the term "Cock of the Walk" used twice.  The first was on the famous &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;SNL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZhSkRHXTKlw&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt; 'Cowbell' sketch, by the immortal Christopher &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;Walken&lt;/span&gt;. (Listen Close, it's there.)&lt;/a&gt;  The second time was in "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;Jeepers&lt;/span&gt; Creepers 2" a teen horror flick, when one guy challenges another to a fight.  Even with there previous context clues, I was never able to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;truly&lt;/span&gt; decipher the meaning of the term, "Cock of the Walk".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully the restaurant menu cleared up the confusion.  Boats used to go up and down the Mississippi bringing supplies and trading good to New Orleans.  Each of these different trading boats had their own champion fighter, a.k.a "The Cock of the Walk".  When one boat came across another boat, the "Cock of the Walk" of each boat would fight each other boat's champion fighter to see who would reign supreme as the true, "Cock of the Walk' a.k.a The Best of the Best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't that easy enough?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On to the Cock of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;Walk's&lt;/span&gt; ambiance and food.  The place has a rustic feel, and we both got a kick out of the beer being served in small tin cups.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil had the fried catfish, while Christine had the 'Red Feather Platter' that had a little bit of chicken, fish and shrimp in it.  It was all served with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;cole&lt;/span&gt;slaw, skillet bread, fries and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;hush puppies&lt;/span&gt;.  All of the food was wonderful, some of the best we have had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we were leaving we stopped by the store to get a "Cock of the Walk" shirt, just to make sure we had something to prove this entire experience and place really existed.  We came up with a bit more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt;.  First is this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;grea&lt;/span&gt;t picture of Christine in a giant rocking chair they have there.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SKUJUoZ8mdI/AAAAAAAAAY0/AE-ejUJGNNg/s1600-h/big+chair.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SKUJUoZ8mdI/AAAAAAAAAY0/AE-ejUJGNNg/s320/big+chair.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234600391936350674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;While we were taking our pictures we stumbled upon some lovely women, who were staying at the Gaylord &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;Opryland&lt;/span&gt; Hotel for the gospel music convention that was being held there, who heard us talking and asked where we were from.  When Christine told them we were from New York, we learned we had a bunch in common with our new friends.  One was from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;Rockland&lt;/span&gt; (Spring Valley), one was from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;Westchester&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;Ossining&lt;/span&gt;) and finally Brooklyn.  More or less the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;outline&lt;/span&gt; of Christine and Phil's lives were standing in front of them in the form of gospel women from the New York metropolitan area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny how New York is the ultimate in similarities from the people you least expect it from sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 More notes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Yes, Phil does have a French detective mustache.  He hasn't shaved &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"&gt;since&lt;/span&gt; the day before the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"&gt;wedding&lt;/span&gt;.  Bad facial hair was bound to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Phil has vowed to wear the Adam Dunn  jersey until he gets home as a show of solidarity to Adam despite his recent trade to the Diamondbacks.  Christine recently remarked that it smells of "B.O."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kentucky tomorrow...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7937119275496148766-9173417432423023230?l=thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/feeds/9173417432423023230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7937119275496148766&amp;postID=9173417432423023230' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/9173417432423023230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/9173417432423023230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/2008/08/jack-daniels-cock-of-walk.html' title='Jack Daniel&apos;s, The Cock of the Walk'/><author><name>Phil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05005657560737208150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/R3rka1AMA7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Zaee-_yqUSo/S220/irabu+on+fire.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SKUJG4_3aMI/AAAAAAAAAYs/_pMzf_XdeM4/s72-c/PICT0038.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937119275496148766.post-5401394377882395474</id><published>2008-08-14T18:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T19:01:54.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I found it...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I found the picture of the Moose we saw in the badlands.... Aparently Phil didn't post it 'cause he didn't want everyone to know he was wrong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234558473799767682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SKTjMrLYloI/AAAAAAAAAYc/qE_RefHzYUg/s400/moose.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Answer:  Moose are not too good for the badlands!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7937119275496148766-5401394377882395474?l=thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/feeds/5401394377882395474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7937119275496148766&amp;postID=5401394377882395474' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/5401394377882395474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/5401394377882395474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-found-it_14.html' title='I found it...'/><author><name>Phil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05005657560737208150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/R3rka1AMA7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Zaee-_yqUSo/S220/irabu+on+fire.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SKTjMrLYloI/AAAAAAAAAYc/qE_RefHzYUg/s72-c/moose.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937119275496148766.post-4370485764937187235</id><published>2008-08-13T17:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T11:52:43.118-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You're The Only Tennessee</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SKRrGX971WI/AAAAAAAAAX8/MGZ3ozhD7nQ/s1600-h/0809081710b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 161px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SKRrGX971WI/AAAAAAAAAX8/MGZ3ozhD7nQ/s400/0809081710b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234426424168535394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;First off here is a picture of one of the aforementioned insects we saw in Oklahoma.  It was a large flying type creature that was carrying the corpse of a green caterpillar that was roughly twice its size.  The fact it was carrying its body led us to believe that it had also killed the caterpillar, meaning it was a predator and could theoretically bite us and infect us with its dirty poison.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arkansas more or less got rained out.  We spent one day in a Hotel and another day at the local KOA.  Some good things about this was that it gave us some down time and allowed Christine to get some of our pictures developed, and begin a fabulous photo album of the trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another positive thing on this trip was spending some time in Hot Springs and drinking some of their wonderful water.  The majority of the Hot Springs have been covered up to "prevent contamination," or in other words, "so we can charge you 16$ a head to come in and soak in the hot springs".  The remaining 3 springs that were left uncovered are hidden in woods somewhere, and were difficult to get to, especially with their bad Arkasonian maps and poor weather conditions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were able to stop by a water fountain that featured some of the best natural spring water we have ever had.  Phil took the video camera and taped footage of him filling up a water bottle. It is riveting footage and dialogue with the natives, one of which bore a startling resemblance to Locke from Lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The drive from Arkansas to Tennessee wasn't bad, only about 6 hours, however at the end of it we did realize that we would soon need our second oil change of the trip.  Tennessee is a nice area upon entry and the first thing noticed upon entering is the police presence.  There were days on this trip where we could go 2-3 days down an other wise deserted road and never see a cop.  Once you enter Tennessee there are cops everywhere. All over the highway, on the side roads, everywhere, state, local, sheriffs, traffic cops, anything.  So needless to say, you feel very safe, just don't speed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first day we were here, we just came in, set up the tent and crashed.  The second day we went to Nashville and the Country Music Hall of Fame, The Wildhorse Saloon and the Gaylord Opry Resort and Hotel.  The Country Music Hall of Fame was interesting. They had gold, platimun, silver, records on the walls, the history of country music, how it formed and grew into what it was today.  There was a film on the history of country music on television that featured some icons of country like, Hank Williams, Johnny Cash, Dolly Parton and of course the immortal Jeff Foxworthy.  If your idea of an educational experience is visiting the country music museum... than you just might be a redneck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am hanging out with the great &lt;a href="http://www.google.com/musica?aid=JvxAu3K7N5E&amp;amp;sa=X&amp;amp;oi=music&amp;amp;ct=result"&gt;Kris Kristofferson. &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SKR-DJuGe4I/AAAAAAAAAYM/cOkT_X50Auw/s1600-h/phil%27s+face.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 262px; height: 196px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SKR-DJuGe4I/AAAAAAAAAYM/cOkT_X50Auw/s400/phil%27s+face.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234447259525348226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The two big icons of country music are Hank Williams Sr. and Johnny Cash.  Both remembered for their great upbeat harmonies, inovative cross-over beats, "every&lt;br /&gt;man" lyrics, and of course having major alcohol and drug dependencies that killed one and almost ruined the other, and cost both to leave their families (Cash pre June Carter of course).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the Hall of Fame we walked down Broadway in Nashville.  It is covered with small gift shops and Honky- Tonks.  We were both looking for something to eat, and found a great place The Wildhorse Saloon.  It is actually kind of a big deal down here, as they have filmed TV shows there, have some concerts there with some reletively big name stars and have frequent radio shows there as well.  The fact that they also serve award winning BBQ didn't hurt either.  Lunch was good, we had pulled pork and chicken chili as was suggested by the waitress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we left downtown Nashville we returned to the area, about a mile or two, outside of our camp, where the Grand Ole Opry and the Gaylord Opry Land Hotel and Resort are located.  The Grand Ole Opry is literally just a big old house that realy gives no evidence of being one of the most influential and timeless music houses in American history.  The Gaylord Opry Hotel, now there is a magnificant structure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hotel has an old, classic look from the outside, but the inside is all new looking, and literally websoff into different areas.  The webbed areas are connected with huge glass covered atriums, with some spectacular flowers, plants, water falls, indoor rivers, and stores located inside.  Rooms from the hotel have balconies that over looks the atriums and whether it be morning or night time, the views of this area from these rooms must be spectacular.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finally headed back to camp and took it easy for a few hours before heading back into Nashville so we could frequent some of the evening Honky Tonks and hear some &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SKR80sjYRuI/AAAAAAAAAYE/6y090oT0HIM/s1600-h/band.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 272px; height: 204px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SKR80sjYRuI/AAAAAAAAAYE/6y090oT0HIM/s400/band.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234445911665952482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;mediocre bands play good country and rock music poorly.  And let me tell you we were not dissapointed. We stopped at a few different places (a brief description of the band playing appears in parathesize next to the name of the place), The Stage (over top lead singer.. didn't want to be a country coverband, but in Nashville there is little room for anything else), Roberts (blue grass, decent if thats what you like.. we didn't.), Second Fiddle (Fun, interactive country, as we walked in they were playing Interstate Lovesong),  Legends (In their 30's nothing spectacular, but enjoyable), Random Honky-Tonk 1 (older band who yelled at us for coming in at the end of the set), Random Honky- Tonk 2 (band had mailed it in an hour before we go there).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two weird things about this experience. 1) In Legends we met people who live in Queens, one origionally from Suffern, N.Y. and another orgionally from New Haven County C.T.  It's a small world after all.  2) In Nashville the bands do not get paid.  They rely on the tips of bar patrons.  Which is an awkward thing the first time a groupie comes up to you with a barrel asking you to tip the band, and you have no idea why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had made some plans for today, but found sleeping in a bit more to our liking.  Lunch now, and then who knows maybe a trip to a very special place not too far from where we are now.   For dinner tonight it looks like we will be going to the restaurant right next to the camp site, "Cock of the Walk'.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7937119275496148766-4370485764937187235?l=thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/feeds/4370485764937187235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7937119275496148766&amp;postID=4370485764937187235' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/4370485764937187235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/4370485764937187235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/2008/08/youre-only-tennessee.html' title='You&apos;re The Only Tennessee'/><author><name>Phil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05005657560737208150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/R3rka1AMA7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Zaee-_yqUSo/S220/irabu+on+fire.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SKRrGX971WI/AAAAAAAAAX8/MGZ3ozhD7nQ/s72-c/0809081710b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937119275496148766.post-6606222352192508974</id><published>2008-08-09T21:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T19:31:39.208-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oklahoma!  Arkansas?</title><content type='html'>I have found that the mere mention of Oklahoma will bring people to immediately sing the state's name in show tune form, while an explanation of the place is being given.  Phil drew the straw for the Oklahoma duty and let me say the 2 nicest things I can about the state,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1)  The gas is cheap.  3.44 a gallon in some spots&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) There is no 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is hot as hell, by far the hottest place on Earth.  You might say, "Phil, how is it possible that it is that hot?"  Simple.  Christine and I have been to at least 14 states thus far and this one is by far the hottest.  Seeing as how America does everything the best, I must infer that we are the best at having the hottest place on Earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had this conversation with a gas station attendant today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me- Hot out there today.  Is it normally this hot out here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him- No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me- Well that's good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him- It's normally hotter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOTE: IT WAS 97... THE TEMPERATURE HAS HIT 110 FOR THE LAST 5 DAYS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another awful thing about Oklahoma are the bugs.  Good lord, just the scariest, biggest, most annoying, things on Earth.  They crawl, fly, swarm, bite, nip, suck, an bother like no other.  They have ants everywhere and these wasp looking things that have a red torso with black wings that are the size of a half dollar flying around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After setting up the tent here and disinfecting it with pesticide and citronella candles we decided to head into Oklahoma City into Toby Keith's restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who not know, &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Toby_Keith"&gt;Toby Keith is a country musician &lt;/a&gt;who is big for hits like, "Beer For My Horses", "Courtesy of The Red, White and Blue", and "I Love This Bar."  He must be very creative because he named this place "Toby Keith's I Love This Bar &amp;amp; Grill".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon entering, Chris and I took a seat at the bar because the wait would have been at least 30minutes or a table an I think we were both hungry since we hadn't eaten since breakfast.  (Breakfast as a quick side note included a breakfast buffet at a truck stop and biscuits an gravy were of course a major player in the game.)  We ordered drinks and food.  As an appitizer we ha "the tumble weed."  Which is a lot like a Bloomin' Onion, only with thinner onions crisps that are tangled together so it looks like a tumble weed.  I had the sirloin and shrimp.  Both were a bit too well done for my liking.  The steak a bit dry, the shrimp despite a wonderful seasoning on top was a bit chewy, but still tasty and better than most of the stuff out there.  Christine ha spare ribs, that literally were falling of the bone.  Simply fantastic, along with her side dishes had an A+ meal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day we left at about 11 for Arkansas.  The original plan was to head for Little Rock, but after looking at the map and plotting times, Hot Springs seemed a bit more reasonable.  The hotel we are in is an older place, where the room keys are just that... keys.  Our first room was small and we had some problems with the cold water, so they move us down the hall to a much nicer room at the same price.  Don't know why we had the crappy room first, or why they moved us to a much nicer room, but I won't complain.  The downside is that they make you pay for wireless internet, which is bothersome at first, until you remember you are in Arkansas and should feel fortunate to have electricity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The downside is that they make you pay for wireless internet, which is bothersome at first, until you remember you are in Arkansas and should feel fortunate they have paved highways.. let alone information super highways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The downside is that they make you pay for wireless internet, which is bothersome at first, until you remember you are in Arkansas and are fortunate not to be staying at the Tyson Chicken Farm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The downside is that they make you pay for wireless internet, which is bothersome at first, until you remember you are in Arkansas and you should feel fortunate you weren't directed to your room via hunch backed, candle led, bell boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The downside is that they make you pay for wireless internet, which is bothersome at first, until you remember you are in Arkansas and feel fortunate that they don't think "internet" is a term used to describe interfamily relations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The downside is that they make you pay for wireless internet, which is bothersome at first, until you remember you are in Arkansas and you realize the thing that should bother you is the older, Dolly Parton looking, fake blonde, woman sitting in the corner of the hotel bar shooting all the men weird, lonely glances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The downside is that they make you pay for wireless internet, which is bothersome at first, until you remember you are in Arkansas and this older, rustic hotel is actually state of the art.  We are fortunate they don't use the telegraph to communicate with the outside world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay done for now... more stuff tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7937119275496148766-6606222352192508974?l=thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/feeds/6606222352192508974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7937119275496148766&amp;postID=6606222352192508974' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/6606222352192508974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/6606222352192508974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/2008/08/oklahoma.html' title='Oklahoma!  Arkansas?'/><author><name>Phil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05005657560737208150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/R3rka1AMA7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Zaee-_yqUSo/S220/irabu+on+fire.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937119275496148766.post-4677989180427906983</id><published>2008-08-08T23:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T23:40:27.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bernard's missing testicles and the 2 mile train</title><content type='html'>Before I can begin with today’s order of events, I must introduce our neighbor from last night, we’ll call him Bernard.   Phil and I are sitting at our site, Phil’s reading a book, and I’m uploading pictures for the blog.  All of a sudden we hear a voice, “Ya hear those trains?”  Mind you, it’s almost pitch black, the only light we have is from our miniature fire, and our lantern which happens to be burning out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon a closer look, we notice Bernard approaching, bare-chested with Jeans and suspenders.  However, the hair on his body was enough to fool anyone into thinking he was wearing a sweater.  So, we engage in a (hopefully) short conversation with him.  He talks about the trains, and how some of them are 2 miles long.  When Phil mentions the one we saw earlier, and how I had said, “That train’s got to be at least a mile long”, Bernard was offended and quickly corrected us… “not 1 mile, 2 miles.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bernard continues talking about how he and his wife are traveling, and they were trying to get to see their friend Adelia, but they didn’t make it in time and she was taken by cancer.  Well, that was sad, but then he continues to tell us about how he has had all sorts of cancer as well.  Breast, liver, “Hell, I even lost both my testicles to cancer.”  Well, I hate to sound unsympathetic, ‘cause I do feel bad for the guy, losing both testicles must be rough, but really….. Is this something I need to know upon our first meeting?  Generally I think you need to know somebody for at least 20 minutes or have bought them dinner before one can reference their testicles.  Bernard fufilled neither of these requirements.  So, after a longer-than-we’d-like conversation, he said goodnight and went back next door to his site.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we woke up this morning, we looked forward to a day full of driving, we were off to Amarillo, Texas.  Before leaving, we updated the blog a bit, and while doing so, talked to Alicia.  She recommended a little place called Monte Carlo’s Steakhouse in Albuquerque, NM.  that she found on Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives.  Alicia informed us, that part of its charm was that it was attached to a liquor store and to get to the restaurant, you had to go through the liquor store.  Turns out, Amarillo is 10 hrs away, and Albuquerque was 5 hours.  This was a perfect midway point for us to have dinner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we broke down camp, and packed up the car, and off we went.  Christine drove the first 5 hours to Albuquerque.   As we entered NM, the sign welcomed us to “The Land of Enchantment”. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We pulled off an exit to get gas at a Pilot gas station.  When Phil got out he was approached by a heavyset Mexican man with a very high pitched voice who asked him for money for gas.  “Me and my son are headin’ to Denver, and we’re out of money and can’t get any gas.  Could you help us out?”  Phil replied quickly with a, “no sorry, we’re in the same boat buddy.”  He quickly filled up as the man went from pump to pump, and we made our way out of the station very rapidly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the conversation with this man, one has to question the strategy involved with planning a trip and deciding to just kind of wing it on gas money.  What was this man thinking before he left? One would posit, that if you were taking your automobile, gas money would be the first thing you would have. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few good hours later, when we pulled into Monte Carlo’s, we thought, “Ohh crap, we’re going to get mugged.”  The people were not the friendliest looking, covered with tattoos and angry faces, and then there was that guy sitting in the corner of the store drinking his Coronas.  (Our minds will change about the place as we stay longer but for now… we’re a bit intimidated.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We make our way to the back of the store, and enter the restaurant.  It’s not too crowded, and there are a bunch of seats open.  We are told to sit anywhere we’d like.  We choose a booth in the back, and wait, and wait, and wait to be served.  When our waitress finally comes over, she looks like she crawled out of a crack high.  Her words were a bit slurred and she was a bit slow, but she was very pleasant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was no smoking or non-smoking section, and no one was smoking at the bar.  However, before ordering, I went to the bathroom, where it STUNK like smoke.  My first thought… hmm “Am I in high school again?”  Then, once in the stall, there it was, an ash tray!  Apparently you can’t smoke in the restaurant or bar area, but it’s fair game in the bathroom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ordered a Prime Rib and a Chili cheeseburger to split.  When it came out, the burger looked as though it had pickles slathered all over the top.  After a minor freak out, and asking what that was, she replied, it’s green chilies.  Apparently a chili burger isn’t as we know it in NY with actual Chili, but with smashed green chilies on top.  As unexpected as it was, it was a really nice addition to the burger.  It added a sweet yet small spice flavor to the burger.  The Prime rib was cooked to perfection with an amazing seasoning.  We were both amazing happy with our meals. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we were eating, the place began to fill up.  Before we knew it, every table was full, and there was a line out the door.  I overheard the waitress at the table next to us when they commented on the crowd, “Yea, ever since we got famous we’re always this busy.  It’s crazy!”  If Phil and I had gotten there even 10 – 15 minutes later than we did, we would have been in that line. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just because we feel we have to get something from the attached liquor store to make this visit complete, I go up front and buy a 6-pack of Shiner Bock, which is regionally brewed in Shiner, Texas.  I meet up with Phil as he’s paying the check, and we head out to the car to begin on the second half of our journey to Amarillo.  And that’s where we are now, Phil’s driving and I’m sittin here typin away! :o)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7937119275496148766-4677989180427906983?l=thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/feeds/4677989180427906983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7937119275496148766&amp;postID=4677989180427906983' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/4677989180427906983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/4677989180427906983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/2008/08/bernards-missing-testicles-and-2-mile.html' title='Bernard&apos;s missing testicles and the 2 mile train'/><author><name>Phil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05005657560737208150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/R3rka1AMA7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Zaee-_yqUSo/S220/irabu+on+fire.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937119275496148766.post-3961921773675404830</id><published>2008-08-07T20:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T09:13:15.527-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Grand Canyon.. Earning Its' Name</title><content type='html'>First and most importantly. Christine has temporarily lost her phone. If you call her please leave a phone number so she can call you back using Phil's phone. Thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off the part that caught me most by surprise about the Grand Canyon was the fact that it is found at the end of of a forest. From most pictures and views I had previously seen we were expecting more of a desert atmosphere. Instead we found trees and wild life, not the exact scene we had pictured in out minds heading into this endevour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the long road that leads to the canyon we saw many "look out for this animal being in the road" signs. The common deer sign, the elk sign (more common here), the panther sign and the cow sign. Huh? Wait? Cows crossing sign. Sounds odd right. After all who has ever heard of a wild cow walking through the forest. Silly Arizonian's and their signs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we speak of the Grand Canyon we must break it up into two separate and totally unequal parts. We first stumbled upon the North part of the canyon. There were cabins everywhere and lodge with a huge dining hall and theater all over looking the canyon. Very touristy and it was difficult to find some way to interact with the Grand Canyon like we had with the Bad Lands. We walked what we could and took what scenic photos we could, but in the end there wasn't a whole lot to do there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were planning to stay in that area for the night, but after planning it through we desided to make the 40 mile, 2.5 hour trip to our camp ground near the southern part of the canyon. You might be wondering, "How could it take 2 hours to go 40 miles?" Well, if you went directly across the canyon, like via airplane or helocopter it was 40 miles from canyon to camp ground. Unfortuniatly for us, the canyon is kind of in the way, and while the Aveo has been an off roading beast so far this trip, we didn't want to brave the journey. So we had to go back out the long winding road that led to the canyon, down a road going east, that leads around the canyon, and then a southen road to get where we had to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232179477423092210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJxvg3DkcfI/AAAAAAAAAXU/Ep5yUrV06x8/s200/video+canyon2+(5).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day we headed out for the Grand Canyon once again. This time we would be attacking from the south. When entering the park we came to the gaurd booth, where they collect your money and give you a pass. By this time we have been to so many National Parks that we now have a pass, and do not have to pay to enter. We got to the booth, showed the ranger our National Parks card and license as proof of identity. He looked at it and said, "New York, eh." To which Phil replied, "Yes, we have traveled very far to see your canyon."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Th good part was that the South was a lot better than the North was. Yes, this is one of the few times where the South actually beats the North in something, other than marrying one's own sister, or barbeque. There were many scenic overlooks and trails to walk around. At the Grand Viewpoint we actually walked down the majority of the canyon. We would have gone to the bottom, but didn't have water and had read earlier about people getting stuck down there and needing to be rescued due to dehydration or extreme fatigue. In retrospect we probably could have made it down to the bottom and back up, but at the time it wasn't worth the risk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ij2QJQc1hR8"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ij2QJQc1hR8" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;  &lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took many pictures and have some great video footage, but it really does not do justice to what a spectacular scene and view and really is. The canyon really is grand. There were many times that we looked over the view and said that it was so beautiful, it almost didn't look real. It looked like a picture of a post card someone would buy and send you. The reds and tan colors of the mountains with sporadic greens sprouting off of them. The the blue and white horizon are a perfect contrast for the mountainous area and the shifting of the shadows from the sunlight provide a constantly changing dynamic. You could stay in one place all day and feel like you saw 9 different places around the area.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232180332776117778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJxwSpfn1hI/AAAAAAAAAXc/eTzE4SFyTa4/s200/PICT0045.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7937119275496148766-3961921773675404830?l=thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/feeds/3961921773675404830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7937119275496148766&amp;postID=3961921773675404830' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/3961921773675404830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/3961921773675404830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/2008/08/grand-canyon-earning-its-name.html' title='The Grand Canyon.. Earning Its&apos; Name'/><author><name>Phil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05005657560737208150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/R3rka1AMA7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Zaee-_yqUSo/S220/irabu+on+fire.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJxvg3DkcfI/AAAAAAAAAXU/Ep5yUrV06x8/s72-c/video+canyon2+(5).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937119275496148766.post-2148678548697673437</id><published>2008-08-05T20:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T20:42:39.303-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Boise!</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5COwner%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="State"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="City"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="PlaceName"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="PlaceType"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !mso]&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"&gt;&lt;/object&gt; &lt;style&gt; st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 27.0pt 1.0in 27.0pt; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;We arrived at Matt, Alicia and Eric's house around 7:30 am.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Once there, Matt greeted us with a big smile and a warm hug.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After some small talk and chit chat, Matt and his roommate Eric went out for a day of fishing which allowed Phil and me to catch up on some much needed shut eye.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Once we were awake, Phil and I went on some errands, (which included getting the oil changed in the car) and when we came back, Matt and Eric were hard at work in the kitchen.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They treated us to a delicious home cooked meal of Filet, grilled corn on the cob, and Southwestern mashed potatoes.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This was such a welcome treat from the fast food and hot dogs we’ve been eating so far.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After dinner and (for some of us) a quick nap, we dressed to the nines and headed out into downtown &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Boise&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; for a night of fabulous fun.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Downtown Boise is was a mere 10 minute cab ride from The house, and it is actually a very good time, despite what some of us might be thinking based on our Idaho stereotypes.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We started the night off in a very &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Manhattan&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; style, trendy lounge.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After a drink there, we went to a much larger bar.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Three stories high, where we sat outside on the roof and engaged in enthralling conversation.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The next morning, we woke up, tired and hungry.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Matt and Eric took us to Capri’s, the “best breakfast place in all of &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Boise&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;”.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After all, the sign said it, so it must be true.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Here we learned the there is another secret food group that no one in the Northeast talks about… Gravy. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Matt and Eric both got the chicken fried steak.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They let us try a piece, and it had both Phil and I wishing we had ordered it too.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Regardless, all the breakfasts were amazing, and mostly covered in this gravy we mentioned earlier.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Biscuits and gravy, along with this chicken fried steak and gravy is a Midwestern/ southern treat that we feel everyone needs to know about.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We might open up a dive in the Northeast that sells nothing but biscuits and gravy, and chicken fried steak and gravy.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;After this amazing meal, Matt and Eric took us to the &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Boise&lt;/st1:placename&gt;  &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;River&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; for a day of floating fun.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Our journey got off to a rocky start as Phil took little time in blowing out a seam on our raft upon initial blowing up.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We weren’t going to let a little thing like sinking spoil our fun, so we inflated what we could, and found our little raft to still be a sea worth vessel. &lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The trip takes a little over an hour and is a relaxing way to spend the afternoon. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Following the boating trip, we went out for a little Mexican dinner and followed that up with some relaxation at home.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We were all pretty exhausted from the rowing and being out in the sun all day, so the rest was much needed, especially for the drive we had ahead of us the next day to wonderful Salt Lake City, Utah.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;On Monday we went over to the hospital Matt works a for a late lunch before we began out long journey on the road again.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Christine had the taco salad, Phil had the turkey- pesto wrap, and we both had the creamy chicken tortilla soup, and all of it was yummy.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We thanked Matt for being such a gracious host and for making such a delicious lunch and with that we were on our way… &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;UTAH&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt; HERE WE COME!! &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7937119275496148766-2148678548697673437?l=thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/feeds/2148678548697673437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7937119275496148766&amp;postID=2148678548697673437' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/2148678548697673437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/2148678548697673437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/2008/08/oh-boise.html' title='Oh Boise!'/><author><name>Phil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05005657560737208150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/R3rka1AMA7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Zaee-_yqUSo/S220/irabu+on+fire.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937119275496148766.post-5289921131786445987</id><published>2008-08-05T15:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T20:37:39.942-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the last one continued'/><title type='text'>The last one... continued</title><content type='html'>We spent the rest of the night planning our “9 hour drive” from South Dakota to Wyoming to Boise.  After dinner, we invited Roger and Eileen over for drinks and a fire.  As the night was drawing to an end, and the fire was burning out, Christine decided she would “borrow” some wood from our biker neighbor Mark.  It should be noted, that the wood she took was from his fire and was flaming at the time.  It looked like she was carrying the Olympic torch with an oven mitt.  In her defense, It was on fire, so Mark wasn’t gonna be taking it with him the following day it was being wasted over there in his fire pit with no one sitting around it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning at breakfast, we had some more fabulous biscuits and gravy (which by the way is a whole new entity we need to get into later on.)  As we were devouring those, Roger and Eileen came over to say goodbye.  We exchanged contact information and we look forward to hearing from them as they read the blog.  (Hi guys!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shortly after breakfast, we packed up our car and headed up to Lead, South Dakota to hit the horseback riding trails.  As we got to the Black Trail Ranch, we were greeted by Barbara and 3 of her dogs in a pickup.  We jumped in the truck, and off we went to learn a bit about the Lead area.  Barbara was full of tremendously interesting facts.  We learned about the gold mining days of Lead and the men who were involved.  At 26, Phil is a nearly dead man where the max age is usually 30 or so.  When you think about that, a 15 year old boy is actually a middle aged man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then after another short ride around the ranch, we met our horses.  Phil was given a beautiful black “show” horse named Patriot.  Since he was supposed to be a show horse, he was very expensive, but in the words of Barbara, “he’s just too stupid to train.”  So instead, he’s there to be ridden by the guests.  I on the other hand was given a beautiful brown horse whose name described him perfectly, “Dusty”.  He was a gorgeous and calm horse.  Before we took off, she handed both Phil and I a stick, not a large stick, just a bit bigger than a twig.  When I asked what the stick was for, she replied with the best possible answer, “Just to tell him that, Hey… I’ve got a stick!”  She then went on to tell us that, this was to use with the horse and to tap his belly with when we wanted him to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Barbara, Mindy (I think that was her horse’s name), Dusty and myself walked through the trails, we’d turn around to see Phil and Patriot off somewhere in the trees, a ways away from the trail.  And as hard as Phil would kick him, or use his stick and say walk on, Patriot just stood there and ignored him.  It wasn’t Phil’s fault, Patriot was just stubborn, and as Barbara explained it, “I think he does it just to entertain himself.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-0hyA52Sg_Y&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-0hyA52Sg_Y&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the trail the ride, Barbara helped us plan out our route to Idaho.  She and I are going to contact each other during the school year so she can work with me and my students to teach them about rocks, and plants, and many other natureific things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We left Black Trail Ranch with all intentions of heading to Sturgis to walk around the bike rally, just to experience it for a bit.  However, we took a wrong turn (surprise, surprise) and ended up heading away from the rally.  Since we were sort of in a time crunch to get to Idaho we decided against turning around.  However, 25-30 years from now when I finally have my bike, we’ll head back to South Dakota and hit up Sturgis! :o)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had plotted out the 8 or 9 hour drive from South Dakota to Boise in Phil’s head, however, Phil never took into account this state called Wyoming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wyoming took up the majority of the drive but it really has some absolutely spectacular scenery to look at.  There were the Big Horn Mountains, that while long and cumbersome to travel across might have been one of the most beautiful scenery we’ve seen thus far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the Mountains, we approached Yellowstone National Park.  As we got closer to the park, we saw a blinking sign that read:&lt;br /&gt;                                             Wild Fire Ahead&lt;br /&gt;                                           Drive with Caution&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once we saw the sign, we quickly realized that the cloud we origi&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJkalJWBmwI/AAAAAAAAAW8/khCDL-n_7WI/s1600-h/0801082050b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 293px; height: 220px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJkalJWBmwI/AAAAAAAAAW8/khCDL-n_7WI/s320/0801082050b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231241667633322754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;nally thought was stemming from a looming thunderstorm was actually a smoke cloud coming from the fire.  As we got closer, the smell of smoke got stronger and stronger.  We began to even see little glowing areas in the woods which only grew bigger as we drove closer.  It was a very intense sight to see, horrifying even.  We got past the fire (or so we thought) and pulled into a “cut out” in the road, which happened to be the “Fire Fighter’s Memorial”.  Slightly Ironic.  There, along with another couple, we took pictures and watched in horrified awe just thinking and hoping that everyone on the mountain fighting the fire is okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I mentioned before, we thought we had passed the fire, however, as we drove along, it only got worse.  The little glowing areas were not much larger glowing areas.  At one point, we saw flashing lights in the road.  Cars were parked along the side of the street and people were out talking and taking pictures.  It looked as though there were cops up ahead turning people around.  Phil was getting ready to turn around on his own when we decided to go a little further to see the fire.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJkbJ4gRk5I/AAAAAAAAAXE/ZC8WtJR8GJw/s1600-h/0801082112a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJkbJ4gRk5I/AAAAAAAAAXE/ZC8WtJR8GJw/s200/0801082112a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231242298768069522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily for us, they weren’t turning people around, and we were able to continue on with our route.  However, when we got to the area with the flashing lights, neither one of us could believe how close the fire was to the road.  It was absolutely intense.  From the passenger seat, I was about an arms length away from the firemen and cops.  And they were just on the edge of the fire.  We passed on, and once on the other side of the fire, we saw another cut out where many more people were standing and watching.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJkbWwCPixI/AAAAAAAAAXM/aSS5_oqne_U/s1600-h/0801082112b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 179px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJkbWwCPixI/AAAAAAAAAXM/aSS5_oqne_U/s200/0801082112b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231242519832922898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Barbara had told us while we were riding, to them, fires are their largest natural disaster.  And that’s truly what this was.  We did see a few Red Cross trucks there to help out as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About an hour or so later, we arrived at the front gate of Yellowstone National Park.  The park ranger greeted us and excitedly told us how lucky we were because we were going to see another fire.  We found it a bit odd that he was excited about this natural disaster, he sounded like Jim Cramer talking up Valero Stock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite the darkness, as we drove through the park, we were still able to see the natural beauty and could only wish it were daytime.  We arrived at the area where the ranger had told us we’d see the other fire.  We could definitely smell it, and could see a bit of a glow through the trees, but this one seemed not to nearly as big as the first one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We continued on driving, until we reached Boise.  We learned some very fascinating things about Idaho when we were in Boise.  We can’t wait to share these things with you in our next blog, “Ohhh Boise!”.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7937119275496148766-5289921131786445987?l=thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/feeds/5289921131786445987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7937119275496148766&amp;postID=5289921131786445987' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/5289921131786445987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/5289921131786445987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/2008/08/last-one-continued.html' title='The last one... continued'/><author><name>Phil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05005657560737208150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/R3rka1AMA7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Zaee-_yqUSo/S220/irabu+on+fire.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJkalJWBmwI/AAAAAAAAAW8/khCDL-n_7WI/s72-c/0801082050b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937119275496148766.post-6863696970337163608</id><published>2008-08-04T09:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T11:20:00.957-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cave'/><title type='text'>The Jewel Cave.. and other stuff</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJdBUm_qoOI/AAAAAAAAAW0/YCbY9Fxkpf0/s1600-h/0801080941a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230721314534891746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJdBUm_qoOI/AAAAAAAAAW0/YCbY9Fxkpf0/s320/0801080941a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Following our trip to Rushmore and Crazy Horse we set up at our latest KOA camp in Custer, S.D. Our neighbor, Mark, was a biker on his way to Sturgis, for the bike rally. Sturgis has really been the elephant in the closet of this whole trip, the thing that has been showing predominanty in the background that we just haven't gotten around to discussing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sturgis is homed to the largest biker rally in the world. Roughly a million or so bikes converge to Sturgis during the first week in August for concerts, trading, and huge biker flea markets. It is currently in its' 68th year and really is a huge boost to the economy of many of the small towns with in a 60mile radius of Sturgis. How big and significant is the Sturgis Biker Rally you might ask?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While on the trip we have tried to get Carl a different shot glass from the different places we have visited. The place that didn't sell commemorative shot glasses, was Mount Rushmore, because they were only selling Sturgis shot glasses. Thats right, one of the most significant American monuments and they were selling Sturgis shot glasses and not their own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day after Rushmore we went out to the Jewel Caves for a tour of a caves. The caves were something like 26 stories below the surface of the Earth, and the temperature is 49 degees inside of them all year round. That would have been nice to know before getting to the cave in nothing but a t-shirt and shorts. I think they don't tell you before hand so you have to buy a sweatshirt from the gift store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interesting cave fact. The temperature of a cave will be the median temperature of ground above it. So if it is 94 in the winter and 30 in the winter the cave temperature will be 62 degrees year round.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our guide on the tour, was a short, angry, ranger who gave quick explanations and yelled at a 5yr old for touching one of rocks in the cave. Apparently a 5yr old can break the cave and undo milions of years of formation and weathering. Here is the best picture of a cave that one can take with a cellphone&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230714253251789602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 162px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="209" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJc65lqlQyI/AAAAAAAAAWs/AVZY4hnzT70/s400/0731081330a.jpg" width="300" border="0" /&gt;When we got back to camp, we were greeted by some familiar faces. The couple from The Wagon Wheel, who we had spent some time talking to at our last camp, had moved into the Custer camp and was a site or two away from us.  Eileen and Roger... we will update later on, but wanted to get something up for now&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7937119275496148766-6863696970337163608?l=thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/feeds/6863696970337163608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7937119275496148766&amp;postID=6863696970337163608' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/6863696970337163608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/6863696970337163608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/2008/08/jewel-cave-and-other-stuff.html' title='The Jewel Cave.. and other stuff'/><author><name>Phil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05005657560737208150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/R3rka1AMA7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Zaee-_yqUSo/S220/irabu+on+fire.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJdBUm_qoOI/AAAAAAAAAW0/YCbY9Fxkpf0/s72-c/0801080941a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937119275496148766.post-8452585616587870594</id><published>2008-07-31T15:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T09:11:15.602-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rushmore'/><title type='text'>The Rush to Rushmore</title><content type='html'>When we finally got onto 44 the ride to Rushmore was pretty smooth. It is rather direct and even I was able to make my way there with limited &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;assistance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; from the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Garmin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, who may or may not have turned heal on us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The good part about our next camp ground, was that it was ideal for the traveling we were doing today. The camp ground is about 5 miles from Crazy Horse, which is about 8 miles from Mt. Rushmore. We didn't quite realize this at the time of booking, but it really worked out for the best.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Getting up to Rushmore involves many windy hills and mountains, and around every turn you hope that around the corner you are going to see the mountain face. When you finally see the face (or I guess in this case faces) it really is an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;awesome&lt;/span&gt; spectacle. Here are some more cell phone pictures to prove it. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJJcLU4QWbI/AAAAAAAAAWc/edJJ1NwEMmg/s1600-h/0730081529a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229343466983545266" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJJcLU4QWbI/AAAAAAAAAWc/edJJ1NwEMmg/s400/0730081529a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJJb9Qga9hI/AAAAAAAAAWU/h9mg9ZrW1Lk/s1600-h/0730081507a.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJJcQ7qT1iI/AAAAAAAAAWk/QmB93Gsnzmc/s1600-h/0730081507a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229343563293382178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJJcQ7qT1iI/AAAAAAAAAWk/QmB93Gsnzmc/s400/0730081507a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;On the way to Rushmore I am not going to lie, I was expecting a bit of a let down. I mean how exciting can some heads on a mountain be, that I have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;already&lt;/span&gt; seen hundreds of thousands of times on TV or in books and magazines? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, it wasn't a let down. Mount Rushmore is amazing. As you make that final wind&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; turn and see the faces on the mountain, the initial feeling is a bit overwhelming. A sense of awe and amazement set it, that mere pictures cannot capture or give proper justice to. The faces look so alien on the rock framing, and that adds to the charm and grace of the monument. The sheer size of the faces embedded into the mountain make it a scene unto its own. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Much of the self guided tour of Rushmore is focused on the builder/ lead designer of Rushmore, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Gutzon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Borglum, and of course those president guys who actually make up the thing. The other part that is cool is being able to see the individual faces from many different angles and really being able to appreciate the work that went into it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A few interesting fact about Rushmore:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1) Not one person died while making it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2) Much of the blasting that needed to be done got workers to with in 6 inches of where they had to be carving. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3) Funding to Rushmore was cut with the onset of WWII. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Gutzon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Borgum&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; died on his way to congress to appeal to them for more money.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Borgum's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; son, Lincoln &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Borgum&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; was the one who actually "finished" the monument.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5) One of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Borgum's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;assistance&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Korczak&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Ziolkowski&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, went on to become the designer and builder of the Crazy Horse memorial about 8 miles from Rushmore. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Crazy Horse, was a famous Indian, yet at the memorial they only really focus on his quote of "My land is where my dead lie buried." Upon arrival, it doesn't look like anything more than half of a big head on a mountain. But there are many things about Crazy Horse that make it extremely interesting. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The first thing is that upon completion, you will be able to fit all of Mount Rushmore on Crazy Horse's head alone. The does not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;even&lt;/span&gt; include the size of Crazy Horse's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;outstretched&lt;/span&gt;, pointing arm, or his horse. The arm points out over land, that symbolized Crazy Horse's famous quote that is plastered around the Crazy Horse museum and monument ground. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another interesting fact is that the builders of Crazy Horse do not accept one dollar of federal funding. All money that is used to build Crazy Horse comes from donations and money that is collected by people who visit Crazy Horse and pay the 10$ per person entrance fee. Apparently they find charging people 10$ a head a better way to raise money than say, oh I don't know, opening a casino, or pillaging cars in the Badlands. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They do no accept money from the federal government because &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Ziolkowski&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; believed that if he began accepting federal funding from the government that the funding would be cut before completion of the project (See Mount Rushmore), leaving his vision incomplete. While &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Ziolkowski&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; passed away before completion, his family still carries on the majority of building &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;responsibilities&lt;/span&gt; and engineering. I should also note that for the first 5 years of the construction of Crazy Horse, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Ziolkowski&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; literally worked on making Crazy Horse by himself. Traveling all the way up the mountain by himself, and blasting, drilling, and carving all by himself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Interesting stuff, horse riding comes next. We are in Boise now taking a 2 day &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;sabbatical&lt;/span&gt;. More to come.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7937119275496148766-8452585616587870594?l=thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/feeds/8452585616587870594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7937119275496148766&amp;postID=8452585616587870594' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/8452585616587870594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/8452585616587870594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/2008/07/rush-to-rushmore.html' title='The Rush to Rushmore'/><author><name>Phil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05005657560737208150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/R3rka1AMA7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Zaee-_yqUSo/S220/irabu+on+fire.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJJcLU4QWbI/AAAAAAAAAWc/edJJ1NwEMmg/s72-c/0730081529a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937119275496148766.post-1697390499340777897</id><published>2008-07-31T09:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T17:00:27.176-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='badlands exit'/><title type='text'>Things Get Good Leaving The Badlands</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJH00R-zbNI/AAAAAAAAAVs/YSdpkYxCRso/s1600-h/0730081053a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229229821371051218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJH00R-zbNI/AAAAAAAAAVs/YSdpkYxCRso/s320/0730081053a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; For the record we should note that buffalo and bison, are the same animal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We packed up camp early Wednesday and began making our back through the Badlands en route to Mt. Rushmore. Our new campsite is a few miles outside of the Rushmore area in Custer. The trip through the Badlands was a bit different this time, as we went further in and had some really amazing experiences with some of the wild life there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trip began with a stop at one of the scenic viewpoints over looking a mountain area. We were standing there, admiring the view when we heard a distinct, "Baa" coming from the side of the mountainn across from us. On the mountain was a Long Horned Sheep, I believe was the name of the animal. You could hear the hooves clacking against the mountain as the sheep navigated its way over ledges, cliffs and narrow walk ways to make its way. To the people watching it seemed like every step it took, it looked like it was going to fall. Yet, the animal still moved with a grace and agility that showed it was more than comfortable walking on the steep terrain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If this was the only animal interaction we had durring the day it would have been pretty cool. But as usual, business picked up later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We drove on, and instead of taking the road that would take us to route 90, we stayed on the scenic gravel road through the back end of the Badlands. The scenic gravel road was just that, scenic and gravel and it went on for about 20miles. We passed the ocassional car about once every 10minutes or so, but other than that it was mostly open plains and prairie dogs. Christine finally got her view of a herd of buffalo, off in a distant plain and for me that was good enough. I wanted no part of seeing any buffalo up close after the story Janice had told us last night.&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, we saw some more buffalo about 10minutes down the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we came upon the herd in the middle of the road, I was scared and ready to turn around. If a buffalo can ruin an RV, imagine what it can do to an Aveo and the people inside. Christine grabbed the camera and said we should trudge forward. There were people on top the hill in cars and they were more or less just driving slowly through the herd, waiting for the buffalo to move around them. Seeing those people go, gave me the courage to go on through as well. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We took video of the herd, but it looks like a cross between a bad animal planet video and the Blair Witch Project. We unfortunately took the video with the regular video camera, so in order to put it up here, we re-taped it off of the video camera screen using the internet camera. It's quite blurry, and may cause you severe dizziness and possibly even nausia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/140eb0tkiGo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/140eb0tkiGo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, here are a few pictures that we managed to grab with the cellphone camera, but it really doesn't give justice to how close we were to them, or the sheer size and sounds of these animals. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJH1UfpyWPI/AAAAAAAAAWE/1MMViJpCxFE/s1600-h/0730081115b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229230374796810482" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJH1UfpyWPI/AAAAAAAAAWE/1MMViJpCxFE/s320/0730081115b.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJH1K01dHLI/AAAAAAAAAV8/ShBY6Bly4ak/s1600-h/0730081116c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229230208684203186" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJH1K01dHLI/AAAAAAAAAV8/ShBY6Bly4ak/s320/0730081116c.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJH1Cwn0AZI/AAAAAAAAAV0/KBc5wXwVMK0/s1600-h/0730081115b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229230070114288018" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJH1Cwn0AZI/AAAAAAAAAV0/KBc5wXwVMK0/s320/0730081115b.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say we made it through all of them alive. They actually wound up going toward our car, and up the hill behind us, so we got through them faster than the people at the top of the hill who wound almost traveling with the herd down the road. The disturbing part happened when the buffalo had all but crossed the road and one of cars decided to be cute and honk at the buffalo. The buffalo didn't do anything, but still is there any reason to even risk having one of them charge you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We eventually got out of the Badlands and continued along another dirt road when we left. Apparently South Dakota isn't big on paving back area roads, and even worse the Garmin is even better at finding them. As we left I saw a sign that said, Route 44, 11miles --&gt;. I glanced at the map and knew that 44 would get us to Mt. Rushmore, but instead I listened to the Garmin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember how in an earlier blog, we showed a picture of the Garmin bringing us into a corn field. Well same thing this time. Only the corn fields do actually have small dirt roads to travel on, so rather than going with what I knew to be true, I listen to the GPS system. After all it's the direction professional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disaster. We literaly drove through single lane cornfields for about a half hour. Some of them ended with a sign that read, "Private Property: No Tresspassing", others just ended with no road to follow at all. I think driving through all this dirt, gravel and single lane fields, literlaly took about 2,000miles off the life of the Aveo, who I have a growing respect for on a near hourly basis now. I finally got sick of listening to the Garmin, who gave great directions if I was plowing a field, turned it off and went back the way we came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We wound up getting to the road that led to Route 44, that we had seen almost 45 minutes ago, as we left the Badlands. Keep in mind this entire road is a dirt road. So even though it has a name and leads to a major road way, we still kicked up dust, dirt and gravel for the entire time we were on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This got us to Keystone and where Mt. Rushmore lies. Where we begin the next part of our story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7937119275496148766-1697390499340777897?l=thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/feeds/1697390499340777897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7937119275496148766&amp;postID=1697390499340777897' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/1697390499340777897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/1697390499340777897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/2008/07/things-get-good-leaving-badlands.html' title='Things Get Good Leaving The Badlands'/><author><name>Phil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05005657560737208150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/R3rka1AMA7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Zaee-_yqUSo/S220/irabu+on+fire.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJH00R-zbNI/AAAAAAAAAVs/YSdpkYxCRso/s72-c/0730081053a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937119275496148766.post-5729213254438247040</id><published>2008-07-30T21:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T07:06:33.435-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='welcome to interior'/><title type='text'>Welcome to Interior!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJE_Md9ZazI/AAAAAAAAAVU/4rqeWSpJC2g/s1600-h/0729082149.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229030125786983218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 239px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="178" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJE_Md9ZazI/AAAAAAAAAVU/4rqeWSpJC2g/s320/0729082149.jpg" width="272" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is Pat. He is one of the 50 or so people who make up the small South Dakotan town of Interior. We didn't meet too many people. But from our small sampling, they were friendly, and enjoyed the "mellow" feeling of living in such a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;laidback&lt;/span&gt;, out of the way place. Looking at Pat he seems like a happy go lucky guy, but I think this small town is a place he went to, to escape from something bigger, to help him forget about some sadness in the past. I think that's the reason many of the people living in such a small place go there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJFABdzfxMI/AAAAAAAAAVc/KNRz2NdyaGQ/s1600-h/0729081812a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229031036278523074" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJFABdzfxMI/AAAAAAAAAVc/KNRz2NdyaGQ/s200/0729081812a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we left the Badlands and began our way back to our campground, we passed a few signs for "The Wagon Wheel", a bar in the town of Interior, South Dakota, that according to the signs serves this, "Ice Cold Beer". We figured we hadn't stopped at single bar in a single state yet, so what better place to go that a dive bar, in a dive town, half a mile outside of the Badlands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the Wagon Wheel isn't just the local town bar. Oh no. It also serves as its' gas station. Pay inside the bar, and then pump your gas at the pump across the street. We walking in, slowly, mildly afraid for our lives, while locals at the "mini-casino" machines found inside, gave us some quick glances. They weren't nasty looks, just glancing over to see if they knew who was coming in. You get the feeling they either see a lot of strangers, or mostly people they know by name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to the bar and ordered a couple of Miller Lites. The bartender gave them to us and told us that would be 4$. Christine and I were kind of confused by this. "Wait.. 4$ each?" asked Christine. "No, 4$ total, 2$ each," the bartender replied. We explained to him, that being from New York, 4$ for a beer was about right, and we were just a bit confused initially by the price. He simply shrugged his shoulder and said, "Small town, ya know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started talking to the bartender for a bit and learned his name was D.J. and he was actually an import from California. We asked him about the school we had seen coming in and how many kids actually went there. He told us about 20 students, total go there. Or roughly about 5-7 kids less than a single NYC school CLASS has. He went on to say how once they graduate, the nearest middle and high schools are a good 40 miles from there, and they have to make the trip every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He went on to say how there is really no police presence of any sort out it Interior. "About once a month or every month and a half a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;statey&lt;/span&gt; will come in," he said, "but that’s about it." When we asked if the town had a mayor he replied, "I think you need more than 100 people to be considered a town, and no there is no mayor." He went on to tell us that the nearest hospital was probably 100miles away. Now that is the type of thing that really would have put a damper on my 'get bitten by rattle snake, so I can go to the hospital, away from the bugs' plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is about the time that Pat walked in and business picked up. &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJHMAOSUMXI/AAAAAAAAAVk/k5m5IEolJgs/s1600-h/0731080704a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229184946560840050" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJHMAOSUMXI/AAAAAAAAAVk/k5m5IEolJgs/s200/0731080704a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;As Pat walked in D.J. noted how “this is good people coming in,” and he introduced us to Pat as he sat down. D.J. then poured Pat a Bloody Mary…8 parts vodka, 1/2 part tomato juice, the “Pat Special.” This deviated from his norm of a Bloody Mary with a beer and tomato juice mixture, which is his normal drink of choice. Now, Christine and I had never heard of this but apparently out here it is common place to have Bloody Mary mixed that way. How common you might as? It comes in cans, and is actually not half bad. Lighter and bubblier than your normal vodka laced Bloody Mary drink, with a nice carbonation that helps it go down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pat was ecstatic to hear we were newly weds and began talking about his own wife and family. It was sweet to see how much he cares about his wife, and how fortunate and lucky he feels to have her. He then went into how many kids they have, “Two, well we had four, but we lost two of them, we won’t go into that. So two.” Pat then took a large swig of his Bloody Mary and Christine gave me 10$ to go win her money playing video poker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I am playing video poker with my back to the bar, Christine is talking to D.J and Pat about the Badlands and how I was a bit nervous going into it. She called me over to explain why. "Well my old roommate from college was telling me that if you like run out of gas, or have a break down in the wrong section of the Badlands, like Indians will come out of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;mountain&lt;/span&gt; and pillage your vehicle. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a brief pause and D.J. responded with, "Well I am Indian and I haven't pillaged your car yet.. What do you think this is 1880!!" Ugh. Have I mentioned I hate Donny. "Of course that's not true," D.J continued, "That sort of stuff doesn't happen any more it's 2008. Have I mentioned I really, really hate Donny. D.J went on to tell a story of how some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Swedish&lt;/span&gt; tourist asked him a similar question based on Dances With Wolves and it got the guy punched in the face. I of course, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;immediately&lt;/span&gt; apologized, and said I didn't mean to offend him, and that in this case, my ignorance of the area and people there led me to think it as true. Besides, how could Donny be wrong about something like this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I go back to playing video poker and D.J pours Pat another "Pat Special," this is bad news for Pat as his wife is coming to the bar to hang out and he isn't aloud to drink hard liquor any more. Apparently they frown on that after going through detox. I am not sure if the drinking was as much because he lost two children, or because he literally has nothing nothing else to do in a town this small, as someone pointed out later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Janice shows up. She looks tired, and pissed that Pat called her to come and meet us. She works in the Badlands &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;cleaning&lt;/span&gt; the bathrooms at various &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;viewpoints&lt;/span&gt;. On her off days she works in a local hotel... cleaning bathrooms. Pat meanwhile, claims to be the local handy man &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;in town&lt;/span&gt; and can fix anything. Of course, in a town of 50people, just outside of a desert, one has to question how many lawn mower engines one can fix, to support a steady income.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now a lovely couple walks into the bar, who have no business being in Interior, so it is clear that these people are tourists, like Christine and I. They sit down a order a pizza, and we all get to talking. Funny enough the last place there were was at Indy for the race, and are now staying at the same camp ground we are. Seemingly tracing our steps a half a day or so behind us. They were nice people, from Detroit, and wound up spending some time talking with them as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By this point in time it should be noted that Pat was hammered, and he kept on coming up to us and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Detroit&lt;/span&gt; couple and saying, "Welcome to Interior!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We wound up meeting the Detroit couple the next day at breakfast and we reflected on the previous evening at The Wagon Wheel. The people, Pat, the small town. How there isn't much to do other than go to a bar. All the locals we spoke to, D.J., Pat, and Janice all said the same thing about Interior, it is "mellow", but really nothing else positive to say about it. I guess I just found it odd that people would choose to separate themselves so much from the rest of society. I can understand appreciating it being "mellow", but they really had nothing else to say that was good about living there. Just weird for me I guess, but to them home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interior: A nice place to visit briefly, but I wouldn't want to live there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7937119275496148766-5729213254438247040?l=thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/feeds/5729213254438247040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7937119275496148766&amp;postID=5729213254438247040' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/5729213254438247040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/5729213254438247040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/2008/07/welcome-to-interior.html' title='Welcome to Interior!'/><author><name>Phil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05005657560737208150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/R3rka1AMA7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Zaee-_yqUSo/S220/irabu+on+fire.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJE_Md9ZazI/AAAAAAAAAVU/4rqeWSpJC2g/s72-c/0729082149.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937119275496148766.post-6438536835607897412</id><published>2008-07-30T18:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T20:51:17.751-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='phil'/><title type='text'>The Bad(ass)lands</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;This next part of the story needs to be told in 4 separate parts. 1) Leaving for the Badlands, The Badlands, 2) Post Badlands (Welcome to Interior!) and 3) Leaving the Badlands and 4) The Rush to Rushmore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before we left our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;KOA&lt;/span&gt; campsite in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Belvidere&lt;/span&gt; SD we talked to the people who owned the place and talked with them about visiting the Badlands and the best way to go about doing it. I know what you are asking yourself right now, "Was the camp in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Belvidere&lt;/span&gt; run by an overweight Englishman?" and "Were there any Bob &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Euker&lt;/span&gt; sightings?" The answer is "no" to both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The couple who ran the place were a lovely couple, Betty and her husband, we'll call him George. George looks like actor/comedian George Lopez, but sounds like professional wrestler Razor Ramon when he speaks, meaning that whenever he said, "The badlands," I had to chuckle a bit inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/GTuJuz3pHIE&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/GTuJuz3pHIE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Instead of stopping at our camp, just outside the Badlands we decided it would be a good idea to go directly to the Badlands, so we could go there and explore, before we had an opportunity to sit down and get tired. On our way to the Badlands Christine and I stopped off at a "scenic &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;viewpoint&lt;/span&gt;" of a grassy field. Christine found this the chance to get her picture taken next to a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;hay bail&lt;/span&gt;. One of those huge, rolled up ones you see a lot in farm country. So we walked over to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;hay bail&lt;/span&gt;, through a tall grass, insects (big surprise) and tiny cactus. We walked carefully through the field, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;in case&lt;/span&gt; there were snakes or anything harmful all the while trying to avoid stepping on a cactus. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJEUd5wHX7I/AAAAAAAAATc/w3hqVnvO7hA/s1600-h/0729081141a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228983146305249202" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJEUd5wHX7I/AAAAAAAAATc/w3hqVnvO7hA/s200/0729081141a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So we get to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;hay bail&lt;/span&gt;, and Christine needs a boost to get on top. She puts her foot into my cuffed hands and I feel a horrid stinging sensation. Cactus. She had stepped on a cactus and it stuck to her shoe, which &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;in turn&lt;/span&gt; stuck into my hand. Needless to say Christine didn't get on top of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;hay bail&lt;/span&gt;, rather she settled for a picture on the side of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJEb-8O9hAI/AAAAAAAAAUk/yYIUaaYCoes/s1600-h/0729081132a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228991410488574978" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="210" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJEb-8O9hAI/AAAAAAAAAUk/yYIUaaYCoes/s400/0729081132a.jpg" width="282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our second stop on the way to the Badlands was at this sign. If you can't see the name of the town, it is "Philip". And there underneath it is me.. Philip, how appropriate. This required yet another trip through a high, insect ridden field.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now we pick up business and get to the actual Badlands. The Badlands really are fantastic. The weathered mountains and scenery that seems to go on for miles are really breath taking and a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;spectacle&lt;/span&gt; like no other. We started off at the "window/ door" part. The window is one of the giant rock structures that people can climb on, while getting a view of part of the Badlands and taking pictures. The next part is the door, that leads into a decent section of the Badlands that people can walk through. Here are some of the pictures we took while in the Badlands. Please keep in mind there were taken with my cellphone camera and we have much better ones along with some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;spectacular&lt;/span&gt; video we can show when we get home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJEXrFvmh7I/AAAAAAAAATk/B3bX1tNRhsY/s1600-h/0729081226a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228986671397504946" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJEXrFvmh7I/AAAAAAAAATk/B3bX1tNRhsY/s320/0729081226a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJEwiPGyBpI/AAAAAAAAAVE/R5H1tCJIaDU/s1600-h/PICT0039.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229014007082518162" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJEwiPGyBpI/AAAAAAAAAVE/R5H1tCJIaDU/s320/PICT0039.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Dh0PAjdEqQM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Dh0PAjdEqQM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJEwglvs0OI/AAAAAAAAAU0/pYahaXoUm_w/s1600-h/PICT0040.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229013978799984866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJEwglvs0OI/AAAAAAAAAU0/pYahaXoUm_w/s320/PICT0040.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228986802051991746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJEXyseDyMI/AAAAAAAAATs/bVACaOBlODk/s320/0729081228a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228987239250196978" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJEYMJKO-fI/AAAAAAAAAT8/BtkLPcMT_ig/s320/0729081740a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJEwiL29CMI/AAAAAAAAAU8/O7SbJ0V8MQE/s1600-h/PICT0038.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229014006210824386" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJEwiL29CMI/AAAAAAAAAU8/O7SbJ0V8MQE/s320/PICT0038.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After looking at the door/window area we decided to go to our camp site, set up our tent, unpack, eat lunch and head back out to the Badlands. We were both exhausted and I think that neither one of us would h&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;ave&lt;/span&gt; argued with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;each other&lt;/span&gt; if we had decided to pack it in and stay there for the day. There were 3 major things that kept us from staying. 1) The heat. It was just way too hot to stay there and do nothing. The Badlands at least had a nice breeze. 2) We had traveled all this way and didn't want to rush the next day spending time exploring the Badlands and going to Mount Rushmore. 3) I was once again being eaten by bugs. I cannot really express how many bug bites I have gotten in our last 2 camp sites. Thankfully, the Badlands is a desert and there are few (if any) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;mosquitoes&lt;/span&gt; there. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So we go back to the Badlands where I notice this sign. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228994666972595346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJEe8flQRJI/AAAAAAAAAUs/vvpDeL38GXc/s320/0729081530a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am not going to lie. I think at this point I was rooting to be bitten by one. For a few reasons. The first being, that there as no way a rattle snake bite could be half as bad as the 10,000 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;mosquitoe&lt;/span&gt; bites I have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;received&lt;/span&gt; in the last 4 days. The second reason is, if I get bitten, I can &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;at least&lt;/span&gt; spend a few days in a hospital bed, away from all the bugs and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;mosquitoes&lt;/span&gt; (I would find out later that this probably wasn't a good idea). Finally, if I get bitten I can yell, &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wXJxFE8gRdY"&gt;"My God! The rattlesnake as struck!!" &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I didn't get bitten and we wound up climbing up "Settler's Point". It was a narrow, steep trail that settlers used to have to climb down with their horses and they now allow people to climb it, so they can see how difficult the original settlers had it. I wasn't impressed. It was a pretty easy climb, so in this case I was left little unimpressed by the hardships the settlers faced. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229020296407096642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJE2QUqnHUI/AAAAAAAAAVM/Al-CRBldhGY/s320/bunny.bmp" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we reached the top we saw this bunny rabbit. Apparently bunny rabbits here have little fear, as this guy let us get up very close to him to take a picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next fun thing we saw was a field filled with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Prairie&lt;/span&gt; Dogs. We have some great video of this, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;unfortunately&lt;/span&gt; we cannot load it up here. They were cute little things, made these weird high pitched noises and probably hated the fact that there were so many people stopping to walk over their field to look at them. I had a picture on my cellphone, but it came out too blurry to be able to actually put up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We finally left at around 6p.m and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;instead&lt;/span&gt; of going right back to camp, we headed into the town of Interior, South Dakota. We will continue our story of Interior in our next blog. This story involves a small town, Donny almost getting me killed 10,000miles away and a bizzare mixture for a Bloody Mary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7937119275496148766-6438536835607897412?l=thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/feeds/6438536835607897412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7937119275496148766&amp;postID=6438536835607897412' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/6438536835607897412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/6438536835607897412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/2008/07/badasslands.html' title='The Bad(ass)lands'/><author><name>Phil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05005657560737208150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/R3rka1AMA7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Zaee-_yqUSo/S220/irabu+on+fire.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SJEUd5wHX7I/AAAAAAAAATc/w3hqVnvO7hA/s72-c/0729081141a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937119275496148766.post-4925522644928968877</id><published>2008-07-28T16:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T08:03:54.380-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='phil'/><title type='text'>Seriously? How Far Can The Drive From Indy to South Dakota Be?</title><content type='html'>As we left off last blog we were leaving Indy for South Dakota. Some told us to stay in Indy for the night and brave the increasingly unstable atmosphere that was rounding into shape, post Allstate. We were urged by some people to stop in areas along the way or find a hotel and stay there, simple requests that are easier said than done. We wound up going on the road for the entire time, making frequent stops for coffee, food, beverage, or the occasional bathroom brake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The route is filled with scary looking "Deliverance" type people. Every stereotype you have heard about the Midwest at night, believe it. Believe all of it.  (My immediately apologize to anyone offended by that, but when you're from the Northeast, it is creepy here at night). The very first gas station we stopped at was at around 1a.m., on a dark, back road. It seemed fine at the time, seeing as how there was no one around. Until, an old beat up pick up truck, cream colored with a red lining down the side, came rolling in, with an old beat up silver trailer home hooked up to the back of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As if the creepy looking truck was bad enough, a skinny, older man, with long flowing locks of beard and mullet got out of the creepy truck, to "gas up his pick up". Christine, who had been sleeping in the front seat, woke up while I was paying for gas inside, made brief eye contact with our mulletted friend and immediately coward back in her seat. At this point in time, I have every stereotype from every movie rummaging through my head, as the back doors to the truck open up and his two sons (I guess), get out of the truck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One had buzzed hair and a goatee, the other was a fair skinned African American chap, both covered in oil slicks and tattered clothing. (NOTE: It is 1a.m.! Why is anyone wearing oiled clothing at this time? Shouldn't most routine car maintenance be performed during the safety of the daylight hours?) The fact that one was, in movie terms, “the token black guy” did nothing to dispel the fact that this whole thing was a bad movie stereotype playing out with Chris and I as the victims.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say I gassed up and got the hell out of Dodge, and really didn't stop for a few hours, in fear that the pick up would come rumbling up next to us. With beer cans and glass bottles  tossed at our car, and the unsightly men from the gas station screaming and laughing with delight. As night trickled into day time, you really begin to looking around an take in the scenery and appreciate the fact that corn sucks. I hate cornfields. For years I have mocked the scenery on I-95 as being "Concrete and trees." Well "concrete and trees" are 10x better than "concrete and cornfields". Every single cornfield looks exactly the same, and what's worse is that they smell, no, stink like manure. Just awful. Screw corn, and cornfields.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You might remember before we left Indy we has asked people different places we could stop at in Iowa. We were told two places; 1) Mount Rushmore (which isn't in Iowa) and 2) The Corn Palace. Believe it or not, we figured we would skip right over The Corn Palace, until we learned that it isn't actually in Iowa... it is in South Dakota.  Meaning that, other than being the birthplace of Slipknot, Iowa has nothing going for it.  Signs for The Corn Palace start popping up like South of The Boarder signs that lead the way into Florida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, Christine starts getting amped for The Corn Palace and at worst I figure I can make some smug sarcastic comments and amuse myself and perhaps the people reading the blog later on as well. So we get The Corn Palace exit, drive 3 miles out of the way and we see in front of us a true marvel in corn engineering.  It's a building, that they staple corn husks to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was terrible. I had a great line for when we walked in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me- Hey wait a sec.. what is all this?!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christine- It's The Corn Palace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me- Wait a sec.. I thought you said, Porn Palace.. It's the only reason I agreed to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SI8pGbZ6aVI/AAAAAAAAATE/fCRp5iBjFt4/s1600-h/0728081009a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228442882812832082" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SI8pGbZ6aVI/AAAAAAAAATE/fCRp5iBjFt4/s200/0728081009a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHA.. That old gag. After that there wasn't much of anything. There was no corn, no palace, no royalty, no corn maze, no corn maize. Just pictures on the wall of what The Corn Palace has looked like since it began and a gift shop that took up more room than the actual "Palace". It was so lame I couldn't even make fun of it, because there was nothing to make fun of. I am not sure if this whole "Corn Palace" is legit or just a massive inside joke by South Dakotans to trick outsiders and give them a good laugh later on. This as I have stated before, is just further evidence and reason to hate corn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christine was royally pissed about the Corn Palace being such a bust. After stops at Camden Yards, The Great American Ballpark and finally Indianapolis Motor Speedway, this was the first time she decided on what we should do during our trip. More reason men should make all the important decisions. It should also be noted, Christine went ahead and used an advertisement she found for the Corn Palace as kindling to light a fire. Much she will do with me once she reads this paragraph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, South Dakotans are pleasant people. Generally we have found the majority of them to be over 55. Literally, it seems like 70% of the population has an AARP card. The rest of them are younger (obviously), but for the most part, not very attractively looking people. I guess this makes it the ideal place to Honeymoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a wonderful shopping experience here as well. A store called the, "County Fair". Old school, local type place. They don't have like, "Bonus Savings Cards" or anything. Instead they have a rather bizarre stamp collecting system, that while described to me, multiple times by someone in the minority age under 55, I still find a cumbersome and confusing savings process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best part was that out groceries were then brought out to the car by someone who worked there. This guy more fit in to that +55 majority that I blogged of earlier. He bagged and wheeled all our groceries out to the car and while engaging in friendly conversation he asked where we were from. We replied, "New York" and he immediately responded with, "Oh so you're out here Honeymooning." Apparently he knows better than anyone South Dakota is the premier Honeymoon destination in the Northwest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next South Dakota factoid I will put out there and you can do with it what you like. The big gas franchise down here is called, "Kum and Go", and their slogan is, "You're in you're out, it's fast, pay at the pump." Just gonna throw that gem out there. Here is the photo evidence as usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SI8puH7vWXI/AAAAAAAAATM/ZkTiL2hme5Q/s1600-h/0728081235a(5).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228443564780771698" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SI8puH7vWXI/AAAAAAAAATM/ZkTiL2hme5Q/s200/0728081235a(5).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When we were finally with in about 40miles of where we needed to be we stopped off at a diner. Doo Wah Ditty's Diner, was the best combo diner/ dive we could find. I ordered the Buffalo Burger with mashed potatoes and Christine had the BLT salad with like Aunt Louie's Special Dressing or something like that. Both meals were delightful. The mashed potatoes came with a legit gravy that really should have been put on top of everything they served; from Christine's BLT Salad to apple pie, this gravy should have some how been involved in the consumption process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finally wound up at the camp sight and it is indeed a lovely pond side area. It is kind of strange to go from the screaming and hollering and big boozing from Indy, to the low key, quiet almost desert feel out South Dakota camp ground holds. This camp ground, however, despite the fact, it is quiet and out of the way, over looks a small pond. Which sounds great, until you realize that there are bugs everywhere. Mosquitoes, black flies bees, just bugs that thrive on river life and bile, are everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we were here I went into the local gift/ consumer camping store they have on site.  I was going to buy an extension cord so we could run the laptop across our camp site and be able to plug it in and blog while seated at the table.  So, I am in the store looking around for an extension cord, and while I was doing that another guest walks into the place to check his camper in.  I find the cord, turn around abd begin walking to the counter, and do ya know who is checking into the camp site.  Willie Nelson. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I am tired.  I am on little to any sleep.  I have caffeine juicing up any or all functioning senses I have left.  But I swear to you, when I looked up there was Willie Nelson at the counter.  Willie finishes checking in and while leaving to park his camper grumbles something about playing with Garth Brooks and setting up. I walk up to the counter and look at the woman and ask the big question, "Was that Willie Nelson?"  The woman laughed and informed that that was "Almost Willie Nelson" a one man Willie Nelson cover band, who often stays here while on tour.  I went looking around and &lt;a href="http://http//www.austinchronicle.com/gyrobase/Issue/story?oid=oid%3A80492"&gt;found this article.&lt;/a&gt;  If I manage to see him around camp again before we leave I will try to get  a picture with him and post it later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we leave for The Badlands and we should be able to update from the next couple campsites we are staying at.  So expect something later tonight, keep in mind the timezone change.  To be honest, we have been walking around here asking people what time it is because we have no clue and it's so close to the time zone boarder, it is messing with our cellphones being able to track what the real time is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7937119275496148766-4925522644928968877?l=thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/feeds/4925522644928968877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7937119275496148766&amp;postID=4925522644928968877' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/4925522644928968877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/4925522644928968877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/2008/07/seriously-how-far-can-drive-from-indy.html' title='Seriously? How Far Can The Drive From Indy to South Dakota Be?'/><author><name>Phil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05005657560737208150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/R3rka1AMA7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Zaee-_yqUSo/S220/irabu+on+fire.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SI8pGbZ6aVI/AAAAAAAAATE/fCRp5iBjFt4/s72-c/0728081009a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937119275496148766.post-7666622445855371816</id><published>2008-07-28T15:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T08:43:06.362-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='christine'/><title type='text'>Days 5 and 6 NASCAR:  Good Day… Bad Tires!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SI5ERRPgGsI/AAAAAAAAAR8/8N0q4vuecFY/s1600-h/0727081421a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228191280900610754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 271px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 203px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SI5ERRPgGsI/AAAAAAAAAR8/8N0q4vuecFY/s320/0727081421a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;meta content="text/html; charset=utf-8" equiv="Content-Type"&gt;&lt;meta content="Word.Document" name="ProgId"&gt;&lt;meta content="Microsoft Word 11" name="Generator"&gt;&lt;meta content="Microsoft Word 11" name="Originator"&gt;&lt;object id="ieooui" classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;style&gt; st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } &lt;/style&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;In the Northeast, we’re not really familiar or comfortable with NASCAR, but everywhere else around the country, people take pride in it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;They care about racing, the drivers, and the history behind it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Next stop, the Indianapolis Motor Speedway for the Allstate 400 at the Brickyard!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;We arrived to Indy around 2ish. We drove through a small town that never gave the impression that it housed one of the true mecca’s of racin’.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Leading up to the actual street where the stadium was, we didn’t hit any traffic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;After zig zagging our way through the field, a parking attendant directed us to our spot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;We parked and began setting up camp.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The family next to us was also setting up and we got to talking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Dwight was there with his wife Sarah, and his daughter Katie (Hi Katie) and Katie’s boyfriend Blake.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;After setting up, we sat around, drank some Miller Lite and watched as more and more people came and set up filling the lot around us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;During one of our conversations, Dwight informed us, “I used to drink so many of these, my friends called me Miller Dwight.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;At which point, I think Phil was a little jealous that he didn’t have a name that rhymed with Miller or Lite…. Philler Lite just doesn’t sound the same.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SI5mDrKbVeI/AAAAAAAAASc/GOyEWUW8Whg/s1600-h/0727082057a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228228430735824354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 313px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 235px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SI5mDrKbVeI/AAAAAAAAASc/GOyEWUW8Whg/s320/0727082057a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;We knew we were in for an interesting stay when a coach bus pulled up and a ton of guys got off and unloaded it, and unloaded it, and unloaded it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;They really must have had a lot of stuff because an ambulance was there in under 30 minutes to tend to an injured party.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Just when we thought it couldn’t get any better, a school bus pulled up with curtains covering the windows.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;It truly was a school bus turned RV.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;All that was missing was it blasting “I don’t wanna cause no fus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Oooohhh Ahhhh the magic bus” as it pulled in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;In the end, it’s a good thing that school bus was there it’s the only thing that allowed us to find our car in the sea of tents and vehicles after the race.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;After dinner, we sat sharing both stories and Miller Lite’s.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Phil went to bed pretty early, and I stayed up enjoying quality time with the family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The guys one tent over, also joined in the Miller Lite sharing, and we enjoyed a night of laughter and good times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I dubbed one of them Josh, not really caring what his actual name was, because he looked similar to Josh Partridge (Not as cute though so don’t worry Josh).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;:o)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Throughout the evening, I taught them the exploding pound, and Soulja Boy dance and a few other fabulous things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Sarah became my “biffle” as did Blake.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;All around, the night was a blast.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;We had a really good night’s sleep, and woke up refreshed nice and early.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;This was very similar to Joe Peschi sleeping in the jail cell in “My Cousin Vinny”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The chaos going on around us only aided in our restful sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;After a breakfast of bacon, eggs and pancakes we sat around relaxing before heading off to the big race.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;As we walked through the lot, we realized that the chaos that surrounded us the night before was nothing compared to the partying that was done in other areas of the field.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;At one point, we passed a porta-potty area, and 6 of the 8 potties were knocked down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;It was awful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;For some reason, one of the guys in the group walking in front of us, decided that he needed to relieve himself right then and there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;So he went into one of the remaining standing potties, and Oh My God was it the most horrendous smell ever!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;We arrived at the stadium after a roughly 8 mile walk, in hopes of seeing the bricks, but were unable to get to that area.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Bummer!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;We went to purchase a souvenir and I realized, that I had left my debit card locked in the car back at the camp.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;And after spending $20 on the hat, we were left to enjoy ourselves with $13.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;It was both a curse and a blessing that we didn’t have any money to buy alcohol.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;However, given the long day and the hot sun, it was probably a blessing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;We did have a cooler with water bottles so we did stay hydrated.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;We FINALLY got to our seats, after passing our section 3 different times, (you really don’t understand how big the stadium is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;You can walk past your section, and keep walking for another good half of a mile before realizing it).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;We took in the view and were just in total awe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;It was very surreal and just amazing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A little before the race started, we made friends with our seat neighbors, some crazy guy with his step-daughter and her best friend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Although he was crazy, he and the 2 girls were all really nice, much like everyone we’ve encountered thus far on our trip.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;  He even invited us to dinner after the race to his friend's trailer across the street from the track, "There's more food there than we know what to do with!  You just have to pretent to be my long lost cousin"  needless to say, we passed on that opportunity.  However, i&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;t truly is a refreshing feeling to see how friendly and courteous everyone is, especially when they hear you’re a “racing virgin”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;They want to make sure you enjoy yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;When we ran out of water, crazy guy gave us each an ice cold bottle from his cooler.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The woman next to us was spraying everyone around us with her water fan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;These are just things you don’t see everywhere.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SI5Etp4CE-I/AAAAAAAAASE/LzMc4QIi0L8/s1600-h/bob.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228191768549397474" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 135px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 143px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SI5Etp4CE-I/AAAAAAAAASE/LzMc4QIi0L8/s320/bob.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;At the beginning of the race, there is a ton of pageantry that goes on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;From the F15 Jets that flew over, the drivers all being paraded around the track in red, white, and blue pick-up trucks to TV/movie star John C. McGuilney waving the “all go” green flag.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;For those of you who don’t know, John C McGinley played the role of one of the Bobs in Office Space.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;We thoroughly hope that at some point during the race he went up to a Goodyear representative and said, “What would you say you do here?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;It was getting towards the end of the race and all of sudden, a brawl broke out. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;No&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SI5D1Kk007I/AAAAAAAAAR0/pi_4nypE8Jg/s1600-h/0727081418a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228190798074663858" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SI5D1Kk007I/AAAAAAAAAR0/pi_4nypE8Jg/s200/0727081418a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;w, I’ve seen fights, at bars or at Yankee stadium, and when they break out, people cheer them on and encourage it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The fans here were legitimately upset that this was happening. You heard screams like “C’mon guys, this is racin’… not fightin”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The crazy guy next to us was really apologetic to us, saying things like “I’m sorry this happened at your first race”, “this isn’t racing, people don’t fight at racin’.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Ultimately, Jimmy Johnson’s Pit Crew won the race.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;So basically, the race could have been better, especially when there’s a damn caution every 10 minutes, but it was a great experience!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;From the smell and the sound of the cars, to the excitement and pageantry that revolves all around it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;However, Phil would like me to add, he doesn’t understand why Goodyear can’t make tires good enough to be able to withstand more than 12 laps of racing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;F1 can do it, why can’t they…. All they have to do it make good tires.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;After the walk back to the camping field, and much debating on whether or not to stay the extra night tonight, we decided to move on, and began breaking down our tents.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I’m not sure what was better, the race, or being able to meet the people we did while camping; genuinely, the nicest most caring family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;We said our goodbyes, and hopped in the car, and are now heading to &lt;?xml:namespace prefix = st1 /&gt;&lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;South Dakota&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt; where we’ll be staying 30 minutes outside the badlands!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;:o)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;As we are driving along through &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Illinois&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt;, we happened upon a plain state lightening and thunder storm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The lightening crashes and a placenta falls to the floor right in front of us in 2 parts of the sky as if it were dueling to see who could light up the sky more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;It’s an amazing sight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7937119275496148766-7666622445855371816?l=thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/feeds/7666622445855371816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7937119275496148766&amp;postID=7666622445855371816' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/7666622445855371816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/7666622445855371816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/2008/07/days-5-and-6-nascar-good-day-bad-tires.html' title='Days 5 and 6 NASCAR:  Good Day… Bad Tires!'/><author><name>Phil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05005657560737208150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/R3rka1AMA7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Zaee-_yqUSo/S220/irabu+on+fire.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SI5ERRPgGsI/AAAAAAAAAR8/8N0q4vuecFY/s72-c/0727081421a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937119275496148766.post-8944866317721369453</id><published>2008-07-25T20:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T20:33:51.864-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cincy'/><title type='text'>Days 3 and 4</title><content type='html'>Hello all sorry we missed yesterday, we had a long day of driving and by the time we got to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;luxurious&lt;/span&gt; "Little Farm on the River on the River" the office was closed and we were unable to obtain the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt; password to get into their wireless network. When I finally did get the password the gentleman at the front desk was nice enough to write in capital letters, so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;in turn&lt;/span&gt; put the password that I was told, "isn't case &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;sensitive&lt;/span&gt;" into the computer in all capitals. It wasn't until later that I even attempted to put put everything in lower case and it came up perfect within about 5 seconds of me punching it in. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sorry if I ramble I realize we have a lot of catching up to do. The ride from Maryland to Indiana, we estimated would take about 8 hours, but after a few stops, and breaks along the way it was more like 9.5 hours. The ride from Maryland from Indiana can best described like this, concrete, trees, hills, and as you get closer to Indiana, cornfields with the occasional run down barn. Big props to Alicia for finding us a campground while we were literally driving here. She is like the Al with Ziggy to our Samuel Beckett. There were a few highlights along the way (with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;pictorial&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;evidence of course;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SIqjWTXkFRI/AAAAAAAAAQc/ByCPssHMpWk/s1600-h/0724081545a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227169921068438802" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 174px; HEIGHT: 113px" height="105" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SIqjWTXkFRI/AAAAAAAAAQc/ByCPssHMpWk/s200/0724081545a.jpg" width="180" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;1) 5 hours into the drive (9 overall if you count the trip to Maryland) Christine finally volunteering to drive. (he's a liar... I volunteered to drive on the way to MD!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SIqkEnpZ5DI/AAAAAAAAAQs/bd2zOVB3OHw/s1600-h/0724081542a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227170716785959986" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px" height="123" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SIqkEnpZ5DI/AAAAAAAAAQs/bd2zOVB3OHw/s200/0724081542a.jpg" width="177" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) The no gun posting at a rest area in West Virginia. Man, was I ticked when I realized I would have to leave my piece in the car. Finally,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SIqkpqRz4XI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/JY7HCQGFjAk/s1600-h/0724082036a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227171353147466098" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 155px; HEIGHT: 116px" height="90" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SIqkpqRz4XI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/JY7HCQGFjAk/s200/0724082036a.jpg" width="155" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Garmen&lt;/span&gt; leading us directly into a cornfield (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;fortunately&lt;/span&gt; common sense stopped us from going in.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we did get to the area we were aiming to get to we stopped off at a small Mexican dive Al had told us about on our way down, Acapulco. Reasonably priced and as a bonus they ambushed me into a beer special that featured the largest mug of beer I have ever seen. As we walked in, the nice Mexican gentleman asked us if we wanted a smoking or non-smoking seat. Christine and I laughed so hard probably confusing the nice Mexican. We eventually replied with non-smoking and he sat us at a nice little table looking out onto the street. During dinner Christine and I had a discussion that I had &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;HOPED&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; would go like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil- So what is in the Badlands?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Christine- A dry, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;baron&lt;/span&gt; wasteland, that has turned into a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;state park&lt;/span&gt;, thanks to thousands of years of weathering and erosion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Phil- But I thought we already went to Camden Yards!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can see the punchline and where I hoped the conversation would go. Instead it went like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Phil- So what is in the Badlands?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Christine- I have no idea, but I am looking forward to it. It's supposed to be beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Phil- Wait, you have no idea what we are going to see or what you are expecting? Like what do you think w&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;ill&lt;/span&gt; be there?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Christine- I don't know. Like trees, moose and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil- Moose? In the Badlands?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christine- Yeah. Why not?!?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Phil- It's the &lt;em&gt;Badlands!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christine- Are moose too good for the Badlands?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I think we both kind of agreed to stop the conversation and turn our attention back to just finishing dinner, until....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Christine mentioned the Mason Dixon line in conversation. She asked where it was, and if we were still above it at this point. I in turn told her, no, the Mason Dixon line went from North to South, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;separated&lt;/span&gt; the East and the West. We argued briefly and decided to just move along with finishing dinner and getting to the campsite. (As I wrote this, I googled the Mason Dixon line, and sure enough, it does &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;separate&lt;/span&gt; the North from the South!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The campsite is nice, we have an electric hookup and of course The Internet. When&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SIsvV5jxNdI/AAAAAAAAARs/qIJPwCdv_2o/s1600-h/polly+pug.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227323845768197586" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SIsvV5jxNdI/AAAAAAAAARs/qIJPwCdv_2o/s200/polly+pug.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; we got here we found the people next to us had a pug and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;immediately&lt;/span&gt; had to go over and say hello. After setting up out tent we sat around the fire with our new neighbors and talked about the area, things to do, and of course.. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;NASCAR&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;RACIN&lt;/span&gt;'. The older gentleman of the group, Mark, admitted to being a Jeff Gordon fan, I smiled and said, "He's cool." while secretly mocking him and laughing at him on the inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;NASCAR&lt;/span&gt; conversation leads me into another quick story that has me a bit on edge. I called the people at Indy Speedway and asked them if we could stay there on Sunday night into Monday, after the race, even though our pass was only for Saturday and Sunday. The woman said we could, but there would be "no security" and we would, "be on our own". So that being said I think it'll be fine even without security, but I would just like feedback from some more responsible people who might have a different view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;During the evening I went to the potty and on my way back acquired a white cat that followed me around... EVERYWHERE. This creepy, white cat, followed me back to the tent, and refused to leave me alone. Rather terrifying in a "Sleep Walkers" or "Pet &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Cemetery&lt;/span&gt;" kind of way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;FINALLY, fast forward to Friday. To Cincinnati. To The Land of Dunn, to see the mighty&lt;br /&gt;Adam swing his mighty bat. The morning was uneventful enough, Christine made a rousing breakfast of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;hot dogs&lt;/span&gt;, bacon, and just a touch of love. We left for the game at around 1pm and got to the mean streets of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Cincy&lt;/span&gt; at around 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt;, give or take a few minutes here and there. Parking here is actually quite reasonable, it cost us 2$ American Dollars to park the car... ALL DAY. We were some what skeptical prompting this conversation with The Nice Man at the parking booth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Us- So it's 2$? Until when?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Nice Man- All day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Us- So when does the lot close?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Nice Man- 11pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Us- So we can park in this lot from 2pm until 11pm, for 2$ ?!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Nice Man- Yup&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Us- What happens after 11? Do they lock the parking lot, close the gate or tow the car?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Nice Man- No. None of that, they just like it if the car is out of here by 11pm. It'll be here (random note: One of our neighbors just said, "Honey, do you want my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;wiener&lt;/span&gt;.") when you get back from the game, no matter what time it ends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Us- Okay, we'll take one spot please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;PARKING ALL DAY FOR 2$ In retrospect we should have bought every spot in the lot and then marked them all up NY style and made a killing. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Hindsight&lt;/span&gt; is 20/20.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nwZ_--jd70s&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nwZ_--jd70s&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the trip of course had its one massive negative. I went to get some cash from an ATM, like old school ATM when they take your card and shoot it back out after the transaction is completed. Sure did totally forget about my ATM card in the machine. I already called &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;CITIBank&lt;/span&gt; and the problem was taken care of, but being down a debit card will hurt, at least until we get to Idaho. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227189858390152226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SIq1ezrelCI/AAAAAAAAARU/UEWyQsCd-DQ/s200/PICT0025.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Great American Ballpark is cute. They have a lot of really great family &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;ammenities&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SIq12dOWi7I/AAAAAAAAARk/GpbaA1gZdnk/s1600-h/PICT0024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227190264679271346" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SIq12dOWi7I/AAAAAAAAARk/GpbaA1gZdnk/s200/PICT0024.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and are reasonably seats. Upper &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;left field&lt;/span&gt; bleacher area, 7$ seats.. not bad at all. The most commonly seen Reds jerseys around the park in order, 1) Jay Bruce, 2) Ken &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;Griffey&lt;/span&gt;, 3) Pete Rose, and 4) Adam Dunn. Although, Dunn might have leap &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;frogged&lt;/span&gt; Rose when I bought my Adam Dunn shirt. Here is a picture of me doing something wacky with a picture of Adam Dunn while wearing his jersey. (Note: When I purchased the jersey the guy at the stand tossed in a free &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;pennant&lt;/span&gt; featuring the likenesses of Shawn Casey, Austin &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;Kearns&lt;/span&gt; and Adam. For those of you who don't follow baseball, 2 of the 3 haven't been on the Reds in the last 2 years.)&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227182986924432722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SIqvO1eYnVI/AAAAAAAAARE/7KlWyRheKpU/s400/adam+catch.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Once Christine can sit down for a few minutes, just wait and see the wacky stuff we did with the picture Paul O'Neill is in!! The game itself was uneventful, the Reds lost 7-2, and Dunn decided to take the night off both at the plate and in the field. But, that's okay. Poor Adam has to carry the weight of not only a franchise, but an entire city on his back. In fact I think we saw the mayor of Cincinnati asking Adam for advise on how to balance the budget and bring something acceptable to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;counsel&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227186711888451266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SIqynqDA1sI/AAAAAAAAARM/1xYAZ8YcDqc/s200/pic.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(Adam all alone)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;We leave for the Brickyard at around 11am-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt; and I think we are both very excited for our first &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;NASCAR&lt;/span&gt; experience. We have no idea what the future holds in terms of The Internet at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; Brickyard, so this could be our last post for a bit. Christine and I are taking a daily journal, so we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;will&lt;/span&gt; reference that if we have difficulty remembering some of the details of our most recent stop.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7937119275496148766-8944866317721369453?l=thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/feeds/8944866317721369453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7937119275496148766&amp;postID=8944866317721369453' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/8944866317721369453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/8944866317721369453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/2008/07/day-3-and-4.html' title='Days 3 and 4'/><author><name>Phil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05005657560737208150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/R3rka1AMA7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Zaee-_yqUSo/S220/irabu+on+fire.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SIqjWTXkFRI/AAAAAAAAAQc/ByCPssHMpWk/s72-c/0724081545a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937119275496148766.post-469129434928996875</id><published>2008-07-23T19:42:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T20:43:27.450-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 2: Baltimore</title><content type='html'>We started off today with Christine making a delightful breakfast for the bot&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SIfstOXXfOI/AAAAAAAAAP4/JZFFbZU2VEk/s1600-h/oriole+pic+hof.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226406154281123042" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 183px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 137px" height="112" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SIfstOXXfOI/AAAAAAAAAP4/JZFFbZU2VEk/s320/oriole+pic+hof.jpg" width="252" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;h of us on the fire. If you want proof here is unnecessary photographed evidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a lovely breakfast we made our way into the Inner Harbour area of Baltimore, where they have some lovely shops and Camden Yards where we caught the O's playing the Toronto Blue Jays. Two side notes to add here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1) It is almost impossible to tell the homeless people and crack addicts from the regular people in Baltimore. Everyone looks messy and disheveled so at times it is difficult to realize who you need to keep your distance from. Generally anyone carrying an Oriole's seat cushion and wearing an orange shirt is a "safe" person to be around. Other than that walk quickly and avoid eye contact.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;2) The Orioles have a day to celebrate the 1983 championship team. Just about every single member of the team was there. As we talked about yesterday guys like Cal Ripken, Eddie Murray, Jim Palmer, Ken Singleton and my personal favorite, Dennis "El Presidente" Martinez, as well as many, many others. A wonderful concept, we are not even Oriole's fans and it seemed exciting, add to that a special 5.50$ seat special to commemorate the price of tickets in 1983, an autograph session and an opportunity to get your picture taken with the 1983 Champioshp Trophy and you've got gold. Right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SIf1lhF5xTI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/1L9zaIzOdDM/s1600-h/Oriole+game.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226415917473842482" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SIf1lhF5xTI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/1L9zaIzOdDM/s200/Oriole+game.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Camden Yards was maybe, maybe at very most half filled. Even if you don't like this team wouldn't you expect people to show up to celebrate or give their respects to such a great past team? Well, it didn't happen. Camden really is a great ballpark and it was sad to see so few people show up for the team for such an interesting, entertaining event. Although there was a good chance the reason people didn't show up was because they wanted to miss the singing of "Oh Canada" before the game, or the idea of watching A.J. Burnett get paid millions to pitch makes them almost as sick as it makes me. The Tin Man has more heart. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SIfwiv_51CI/AAAAAAAAAQA/LkUh6IWiQNY/s1600-h/oriole+pic.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Back to the task at hand. We stopped at Phillips for lunch and both had crab cake sandwiches. Phillips is famous for their crab cakes and if you have the chance, you need to stop there and have some. Get the one that is boiled, it has more of a crab taste than the fried one. A true rarity something boiled tasting better than something fried.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We can expect business to pick up a bit tomorrow. We leave for Cincy, and it is about an 8 hour drive into uncharted territory for the both of us. I think we both just want to survive getting there tomorrow, and then Friday we are going to catch a Reds' game at the Great American Ballpark, the home of Homerun Adam.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We'll try to update tomorrow, if we can find and area with The Internet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7937119275496148766-469129434928996875?l=thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/feeds/469129434928996875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7937119275496148766&amp;postID=469129434928996875' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/469129434928996875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/469129434928996875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/2008/07/day-2-baltimore.html' title='Day 2: Baltimore'/><author><name>Phil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05005657560737208150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/R3rka1AMA7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Zaee-_yqUSo/S220/irabu+on+fire.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SIfstOXXfOI/AAAAAAAAAP4/JZFFbZU2VEk/s72-c/oriole+pic+hof.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937119275496148766.post-4120623732725503827</id><published>2008-07-22T19:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T20:39:47.867-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the plan'/><title type='text'>The Plan 7/23-7/27</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i.a.cnn.net/si/2007/writers/lewis_franck/08/05/pocono/K.Busch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 169px;" src="http://i.a.cnn.net/si/2007/writers/lewis_franck/08/05/pocono/K.Busch.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As of right now, after sitting down and mapping it out here is what it looks like we will be doing going forward for the next few days... (Card subject to change based on practicality of idea.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7/23- Into wonderful Baltimore's Inner Harbor area for crab cakes and maybe some O's baseball.  *Added Bonus- The game we bought tickets for is a special 1983 Championship Commemoration game, where Hall of Famers like Jim Palmer, Eddie Murray and Cal Ripken will be on hand in a pregame ceremony.  More importantly tickets are only 5.50$, the price they were in 1983 when Orioles last did anything significant.  Rumor has it they might even bring Todd Zeile in to spike a baseball into the ground to commermorate the 1996 team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SIab3EDsX9I/AAAAAAAAAPo/9r1Mj7bzWvo/s1600-h/dunnh1.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 151px; height: 160px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SIab3EDsX9I/AAAAAAAAAPo/9r1Mj7bzWvo/s320/dunnh1.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226035787894382546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7/24- Leave Maryland and begin the journey to Cincy.  It is roughly an 8 hour drive and where we stay on the way there is ytbd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7/25- Get to Cincy and catch a Reds' game.  Root for Adam to hit us a honeymoon homerun.  Find a hotel and crash there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7/26- DID YOU KNOW IT'S ONLY 2 HOURS FROM CINCY TO THE INDIANAPOLIS MOTOR SPEEDWAY?!?!  Arrive at the speedway, pitch tent, visit Indianapolis Speedway HOF&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7/27- Sprint Cup Action Live from the Brickyard.  Root for the #2 Kurt Busch Miller Lite Car, even though we think Tony "Smoke" Stewart will win.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7937119275496148766-4120623732725503827?l=thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/feeds/4120623732725503827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7937119275496148766&amp;postID=4120623732725503827' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/4120623732725503827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/4120623732725503827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/2008/07/plan-723-727.html' title='The Plan 7/23-7/27'/><author><name>Phil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05005657560737208150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/R3rka1AMA7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Zaee-_yqUSo/S220/irabu+on+fire.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SIab3EDsX9I/AAAAAAAAAPo/9r1Mj7bzWvo/s72-c/dunnh1.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937119275496148766.post-7116322311096088870</id><published>2008-07-22T16:23:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T20:18:00.207-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the beginning'/><title type='text'>The Long Road to Ruin</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SIf0SNweksI/AAAAAAAAAQI/zwDcIn4Ndpw/s1600-h/cabin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226414486354563778" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SIf0SNweksI/AAAAAAAAAQI/zwDcIn4Ndpw/s200/cabin.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Christine and I have begun our honeymoon by traveling to wonderful Maryland and are currently staying at the luxurious Ramblin' Pines camp resort. We are right now staying in what is called the "Bare Bones" cabin... it has an air conditioner, ceiling fan, microwave and nothing else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will try to update the blog whenever possible with pictures, videos and witty commentary along the way (internet access of course being the biggest factor here.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7937119275496148766-7116322311096088870?l=thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/feeds/7116322311096088870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7937119275496148766&amp;postID=7116322311096088870' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/7116322311096088870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7937119275496148766/posts/default/7116322311096088870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelongroadtoruin.blogspot.com/2008/07/long-road-to-ruin.html' title='The Long Road to Ruin'/><author><name>Phil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05005657560737208150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/R3rka1AMA7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Zaee-_yqUSo/S220/irabu+on+fire.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IcS8efbbcvM/SIf0SNweksI/AAAAAAAAAQI/zwDcIn4Ndpw/s72-c/cabin.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
