The Rush to Rushmore

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 assistance from the Garmin, who may or may not have turned heal on us.

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.

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 awesome spectacle. Here are some more cell phone pictures to prove it.

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 already seen hundreds of thousands of times on TV or in books and magazines?

Well, it wasn't a let down. Mount Rushmore is amazing. As you make that final winding, 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.

Much of the self guided tour of Rushmore is focused on the builder/ lead designer of Rushmore, Gutzon 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.

A few interesting fact about Rushmore:

1) Not one person died while making it.

2) Much of the blasting that needed to be done got workers to with in 6 inches of where they had to be carving.

3) Funding to Rushmore was cut with the onset of WWII. Gutzon Borgum died on his way to congress to appeal to them for more money.

4) Borgum's son, Lincoln Borgum was the one who actually "finished" the monument.

5) One of Borgum's assistance, Korczak Ziolkowski, went on to become the designer and builder of the Crazy Horse memorial about 8 miles from Rushmore.

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.

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 even include the size of Crazy Horse's outstretched, 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.

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.

They do no accept money from the federal government because Ziolkowski 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 Ziolkowski passed away before completion, his family still carries on the majority of building responsibilities and engineering. I should also note that for the first 5 years of the construction of Crazy Horse, Ziolkowski 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.

Interesting stuff, horse riding comes next. We are in Boise now taking a 2 day sabbatical. More to come.

Things Get Good Leaving The Badlands

For the record we should note that buffalo and bison, are the same animal.

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.

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.

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.

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.
Needless to say, we saw some more buffalo about 10minutes down the road.

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.

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.



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.

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?

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 -->. I glanced at the map and knew that 44 would get us to Mt. Rushmore, but instead I listened to the Garmin.

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.

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.

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.

This got us to Keystone and where Mt. Rushmore lies. Where we begin the next part of our story.

Welcome to Interior!

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 laidback, 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.


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.

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.

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."

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.

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 statey 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.

This is about the time that Pat walked in and business picked up.

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.

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.

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 mountain and pillage your vehicle. "

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 Swedish tourist asked him a similar question based on Dances With Wolves and it got the guy punched in the face. I of course, immediately 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?

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.

Janice shows up. She looks tired, and pissed that Pat called her to come and meet us. She works in the Badlands cleaning the bathrooms at various viewpoints. On her off days she works in a local hotel... cleaning bathrooms. Pat meanwhile, claims to be the local handy man in town 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.




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.

By this point in time it should be noted that Pat was hammered, and he kept on coming up to us and Detroit couple and saying, "Welcome to Interior!"

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.

Interior: A nice place to visit briefly, but I wouldn't want to live there.

The Bad(ass)lands

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.

Before we left our KOA campsite in Belvidere 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 Belvidere run by an overweight Englishman?" and "Were there any Bob Euker sightings?" The answer is "no" to both.

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.

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 viewpoint" of a grassy field. Christine found this the chance to get her picture taken next to a hay bail. One of those huge, rolled up ones you see a lot in farm country. So we walked over to the hay bail, through a tall grass, insects (big surprise) and tiny cactus. We walked carefully through the field, in case there were snakes or anything harmful all the while trying to avoid stepping on a cactus.

So we get to the hay bail, 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 in turn stuck into my hand. Needless to say Christine didn't get on top of the hay bail, rather she settled for a picture on the side of it.

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.

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 spectacle 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 spectacular video we can show when we get home.

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 have argued with each other 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) mosquitoes there.

So we go back to the Badlands where I notice this sign.

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 mosquitoe bites I have received in the last 4 days. The second reason is, if I get bitten, I can at least spend a few days in a hospital bed, away from all the bugs and mosquitoes (I would find out later that this probably wasn't a good idea). Finally, if I get bitten I can yell, "My God! The rattlesnake as struck!!"

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.

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.

The next fun thing we saw was a field filled with Prairie Dogs. We have some great video of this, unfortunately 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.

We finally left at around 6p.m and instead 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.

Seriously? How Far Can The Drive From Indy to South Dakota Be?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

It was terrible. I had a great line for when we walked in.

Me- Hey wait a sec.. what is all this?!?!

Christine- It's The Corn Palace

Me- Wait a sec.. I thought you said, Porn Palace.. It's the only reason I agreed to come.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 found this article. 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.

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.

Days 5 and 6 NASCAR: Good Day… Bad Tires!

In the Northeast, we’re not really familiar or comfortable with NASCAR, but everywhere else around the country, people take pride in it. They care about racing, the drivers, and the history behind it. Next stop, the Indianapolis Motor Speedway for the Allstate 400 at the Brickyard!

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’. Leading up to the actual street where the stadium was, we didn’t hit any traffic. After zig zagging our way through the field, a parking attendant directed us to our spot. We parked and began setting up camp.

The family next to us was also setting up and we got to talking. Dwight was there with his wife Sarah, and his daughter Katie (Hi Katie) and Katie’s boyfriend Blake. 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. During one of our conversations, Dwight informed us, “I used to drink so many of these, my friends called me Miller Dwight.” 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.

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. They really must have had a lot of stuff because an ambulance was there in under 30 minutes to tend to an injured party.

Just when we thought it couldn’t get any better, a school bus pulled up with curtains covering the windows. It truly was a school bus turned RV. All that was missing was it blasting “I don’t wanna cause no fus. Oooohhh Ahhhh the magic bus” as it pulled in. 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.

After dinner, we sat sharing both stories and Miller Lite’s. Phil went to bed pretty early, and I stayed up enjoying quality time with the family. The guys one tent over, also joined in the Miller Lite sharing, and we enjoyed a night of laughter and good times. 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). :o) Throughout the evening, I taught them the exploding pound, and Soulja Boy dance and a few other fabulous things. Sarah became my “biffle” as did Blake. All around, the night was a blast.

We had a really good night’s sleep, and woke up refreshed nice and early. This was very similar to Joe Peschi sleeping in the jail cell in “My Cousin Vinny”. The chaos going on around us only aided in our restful sleep. After a breakfast of bacon, eggs and pancakes we sat around relaxing before heading off to the big race.

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.

At one point, we passed a porta-potty area, and 6 of the 8 potties were knocked down. It was awful. 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. So he went into one of the remaining standing potties, and Oh My God was it the most horrendous smell ever!

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. Bummer! We went to purchase a souvenir and I realized, that I had left my debit card locked in the car back at the camp. And after spending $20 on the hat, we were left to enjoy ourselves with $13. It was both a curse and a blessing that we didn’t have any money to buy alcohol. However, given the long day and the hot sun, it was probably a blessing. We did have a cooler with water bottles so we did stay hydrated.

We FINALLY got to our seats, after passing our section 3 different times, (you really don’t understand how big the stadium is. You can walk past your section, and keep walking for another good half of a mile before realizing it). We took in the view and were just in total awe. It was very surreal and just amazing.

A little before the race started, we made friends with our seat neighbors, some crazy guy with his step-daughter and her best friend. Although he was crazy, he and the 2 girls were all really nice, much like everyone we’ve encountered thus far on our trip. 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, it truly is a refreshing feeling to see how friendly and courteous everyone is, especially when they hear you’re a “racing virgin”. They want to make sure you enjoy yourself. When we ran out of water, crazy guy gave us each an ice cold bottle from his cooler. The woman next to us was spraying everyone around us with her water fan. These are just things you don’t see everywhere.

At the beginning of the race, there is a ton of pageantry that goes on. 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. For those of you who don’t know, John C McGinley played the role of one of the Bobs in Office Space. 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?”

It was getting towards the end of the race and all of sudden, a brawl broke out. Now, I’ve seen fights, at bars or at Yankee stadium, and when they break out, people cheer them on and encourage it. The fans here were legitimately upset that this was happening. You heard screams like “C’mon guys, this is racin’… not fightin” 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’.

Ultimately, Jimmy Johnson’s Pit Crew won the race. So basically, the race could have been better, especially when there’s a damn caution every 10 minutes, but it was a great experience! From the smell and the sound of the cars, to the excitement and pageantry that revolves all around it. 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. F1 can do it, why can’t they…. All they have to do it make good tires.

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. 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. We said our goodbyes, and hopped in the car, and are now heading to South Dakota where we’ll be staying 30 minutes outside the badlands! :o)

As we are driving along through Illinois, we happened upon a plain state lightening and thunder storm. 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. It’s an amazing sight.

Days 3 and 4

Hello all sorry we missed yesterday, we had a long day of driving and by the time we got to the luxurious "Little Farm on the River on the River" the office was closed and we were unable to obtain the Internet 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 in turn put the password that I was told, "isn't case sensitive" 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.

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 pictorial

evidence of course;

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!)





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,






3) the Garmen leading us directly into a cornfield (fortunately common sense stopped us from going in.)



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 HOPED would go like this:

Phil- So what is in the Badlands?

Christine- A dry, baron wasteland, that has turned into a state park, thanks to thousands of years of weathering and erosion.

Phil- But I thought we already went to Camden Yards!

You can see the punchline and where I hoped the conversation would go. Instead it went like this.

Phil- So what is in the Badlands?

Christine- I have no idea, but I am looking forward to it. It's supposed to be beautiful.

Phil- Wait, you have no idea what we are going to see or what you are expecting? Like what do you think will be there?

Christine- I don't know. Like trees, moose and stuff.

Phil- Moose? In the Badlands?

Christine- Yeah. Why not?!?!

Phil- It's the Badlands!

Christine- Are moose too good for the Badlands?

At this point I think we both kind of agreed to stop the conversation and turn our attention back to just finishing dinner, until....

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 separated 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 separate the North from the South!)

The campsite is nice, we have an electric hookup and of course The Internet. When we got here we found the people next to us had a pug and immediately 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.. NASCAR RACIN'. 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.

The NASCAR 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.

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 Cemetery" kind of way.

FINALLY, fast forward to Friday. To Cincinnati. To The Land of Dunn, to see the mighty
Adam swing his mighty bat. The morning was uneventful enough, Christine made a rousing breakfast of hot dogs, bacon, and just a touch of love. We left for the game at around 1pm and got to the mean streets of Cincy at around 2ish, 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.

Us- So it's 2$? Until when?

The Nice Man- All day.

Us- So when does the lot close?

The Nice Man- 11pm

Us- So we can park in this lot from 2pm until 11pm, for 2$ ?!?!

The Nice Man- Yup

Us- What happens after 11? Do they lock the parking lot, close the gate or tow the car?

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 wiener.") when you get back from the game, no matter what time it ends.

Us- Okay, we'll take one spot please.

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. Hindsight is 20/20.

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 CITIBank and the problem was taken care of, but being down a debit card will hurt, at least until we get to Idaho.

The Great American Ballpark is cute. They have a lot of really great family ammenities, and are reasonably seats. Upper left field bleacher area, 7$ seats.. not bad at all. The most commonly seen Reds jerseys around the park in order, 1) Jay Bruce, 2) Ken Griffey, 3) Pete Rose, and 4) Adam Dunn. Although, Dunn might have leap frogged 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 pennant featuring the likenesses of Shawn Casey, Austin Kearns 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.)

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 counsel. (Adam all alone)

We leave for the Brickyard at around 11am-ish and I think we are both very excited for our first NASCAR experience. We have no idea what the future holds in terms of The Internet at the Brickyard, so this could be our last post for a bit. Christine and I are taking a daily journal, so we will reference that if we have difficulty remembering some of the details of our most recent stop.

Day 2: Baltimore

We started off today with Christine making a delightful breakfast for the both of us on the fire. If you want proof here is unnecessary photographed evidence.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

We'll try to update tomorrow, if we can find and area with The Internet.

The Plan 7/23-7/27

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.)

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

The Long Road to Ruin

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.

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.)