Conclusion

Extra pictures:


















These are pictures that didn't make it into blogs but should have.

So, here we are, at home in Chicago. It's been almost a week since we came back. I would say the feeling is melancholic relief. I think I truly could have kept going (had I maybe been a trust fund kid and had bottomless pockets). Gabe on the other hand is very relieved to be home. We have immediately settled into our old ways albeit, jobless. Kind of. I've spent the better part of this week looking for jobs from the comfort of my own computer. I haven't actually gone anywere and applied. But I've been writing cover letters and resumes and emailed a handful of them. And thanks to the encouragement of many of you, I actually sat down and wrote a short story on Friday. When it's edited, I will post it for critique. I may actually start a new blog for the purpose of short stories.

I digress...

What we've decided is that, life on the road can be awesome, tiresome, invigorating, difficult, exciting, boring, educational, frustrating, and completely freeing. And expensive. We definitely spent more than we expected but not more than we budgeted. But, I found out, pleasantly enough, that homesickness doesn't happen if all that you love is with you. I had Gabe and Conrad and Baloo and my favorite pillow and I was great! If our apartment had burned to the ground (knock on wood) I would have been okay. Being in campsites or at peoples houses was nice and grounding and for the most part relaxing. But being on the road, driving endless miles was where it was at. That's where Gabe and I talked and laughed and hashed out ideas and held hands and told funny stories and listened to hours and hours of The Savage Lovecast and listened to hours and hours of music and tried to decipher the GPS maps. It was always with an anxiousness to get out on the road that we left each place. Moods instantly brightened once the city limits were behind us and it was at least three hours before the next destination. Everywhere we went had a different terrain and living style. Nothing got old and boring. Even West Texas had it's charm!
There are a lot of people whom we owe many thanks. Not in any order of importance: Willie, for letting us borrow his GPS - without it we would have had a much harder time getting around; Dad (Rory) for lending us one of his laptops so that we could keep in touch with the world while on the road; Bob and Linda for letting us and the dogs stay for 6 days; Linda specifically for taking me to the doctor because I got sick in Maine; Brian and his wife for feeding us; Dave and Tiff for letting us crash and have a dog party; Ben and Melissa for taking us out on the town and letting us play music in the basement; Mom (Janet) for making us meal after meal and providing the most comfortable bed; Mickey for being the most awesome 4 year old ever; Bren for providing some patience and perspective; Bridget and Dan for letting us camp in their front yard and taking us around K.C. Basically, we had a blast at wherever we stayed and if it weren't for all the gracious hosts, our trip wouldn't have been nearly as fun.

Here's some of the quotes that were stated along the trip, try to guess who said what:

"Cuz, you know I'm into vistas."
"Babe, I'm pretty sure this is wood." (refering to the rocky coast of Maine)
"Look, it's one of those goat-cow things!"
"Look at that bridge! No Wait! Don't look at that bridge! Just imagine it!"



Mickey being way too silly to go to bed...

With the giggles because of wine; showing off our lovely toes, blocking Dan's unlovely toes.

Travels home

Ah family… you can’t live with them, and you can’t live without them. Or is it, you can choose your friends but you can’t choose your family. All of the above or something like that. I don’t want to go into too much into detail because I don’t want to be blamed for lambasting my own family. Lovely people, all of them really, but funny how the chemistries between us don’t always mesh, especially since we share the same blood.
I suppose I can speak for almost all of us when I say, “My family is dysfunctional”. I mean, what is Normal? And is it something that we want? Where would all the entertaining stories come from? And who but someone of your own family made you laugh until you peed or cried for the first time. The very few people who have made me laugh until I cried, I either share a parent with or I grew up with, whose parent scolded me as their own.

Mimi, my 93 year old Grandmother!

Isn't my Mom cute?
There are a few key players in my family story, but there are thousands of cast members. My immediate nucleus is the combination of two large Irish Catholic and Protestant, respectively, families. Each with their own self inflated Christmas customs and family traditions. Each has their own shocking discrepancies and comforting familiarities. And, oh, it gets exhausting sometimes trying to keep track of it all. Or more specifically, it’s exhausting to try to emotionally take it all in and accept.

So, from the Black Hills, Gabe and Baloo and Conrad and I wearily made our way to Sioux City Iowa. Some know it as Sewer City or Sux City or Suicide City. Whichever suits your level of discomfort. We stayed at my Dad’s house where he and Pat treated us to PBR’s and wine. They graciously gave my dogs’ free reign of the house and offered to keep them the whole time we were in Sioux City even if we were staying at my Mom’s house. The next afternoon, Dad (Rory, William, Mr. Kelly, Bill-if you’re clueless) made me his renowned spaghetti, ground beef a la carte for those of us who eat meat (which was everyone but me). It’s a little bizarre how much of my Dad’s spaghetti I can actually eat. It’s a little embarrassing and a little shameful. That evening we went to Mom’s house. Mom (Janet, Janny, Janetto, Ms. Kelly maiden name Lynn) and I drove in her brand new car to pick up Mickey. Mickey, full name Mackenzie, is my nephew – my brothers’ son. Mickey is a doll. But everyone talks about their small child relations as if they, specifically, were some religions’ gods’ gift to the world. I will do no different. He’s big for his age and will be tall like my brother. Bren’s a cool 6’4”. Big wide cheeks and sparkling blue eyes, delicately arching eyebrows like his mother Kaitlyn. He’ll be trouble in high school. He ran at me and jumped into my arms, called me Bridget and hugged tight. I struggled under his weight and the fact that his shoe had caught my skirt and was pulling it dangerously up, closer to my nethers than was comfortable. He and a group of some other of gods’ gifts showed me a Katydid they had found and were trying to feed some grass.

Gabriel, Mickey and Brendan playing video games in the man cave at my Dad's house.

My Dad being silly.
The stay at my Mom’s was interesting to say the least. Silly, poignant, annoying, fun, stressing, delicious, heartrending, exhausting, reaffirming. Brendan, my brother the grill master, made us some delicious steaks. Mom and I had tuna steaks. Mickey was naughty at dinner and cried when I scolded him. That night Mickey and I “camped” out in the camper. He was very good and listened as I read to him, only to interrupt to ask for a pickle. He laid out for me his plan of attack in case a monster came to show its ugly face. Surprisingly for me, Mickey slept the whole night and was cheery upon rising. Before we slept, I asked Mickey what he was going to dream about. He said he would dream about hot air balloons and how he would wave to his Daddy and Mommy and Papa and Gan’ma. He said that we should both dream about that. When we woke and were gathering our things to go back to Gan’mas’ house, he asked me if I dreamt about hot air balloons like we talked about and described for me what we dreamed together about. It’s one of those moments that makes family pretty awesome.

Dad and Pat had invited us for dinner with Bren and Mick one night and because of the guilt trip laid out by my Mom, we decided to stay another night. And with that extra night, dramedies ensued. Tragically comedic is the only way I can describe family dysfunction. In the moment, it is almost devastatingly awful. In ruefully looking back, it becomes either unfortunate or infuriating. And eventually, it becomes, if not funny, something that might be funny in a superbly scripted dark comedy. We should have just eaten our shrimp that night.

Mickey is actually the photographer here and for the pic of my cute Mom. Pretty good for a 4 year old.

Oh my. Oh my oh my oh my.

My first and only nephew. Man, is he cute.

Me, Mick and Bren. Family resemblance anyone?

That tree was planted in my my front yard when I was born.

A quick and merciful four hours got us to Kansas City, Missouri. We met Bridget and Dan at the best dog park I know of. They brought with them two of four dogs, Frank and Winston. Conrad and Baloo were in heaven and cavorting around their own stomping grounds. It was a butt-sniffing, ball-throwing, pack-running evening of dog bliss. (Shame on Chicago for not having a grassy 2-3 acre dog park in the middle of the city like Penn Valley Dog Park!)

At Bridget and Dan’s house, we shared some wine, gave our first real tour of the camper and crashed. The next day, we went sculpture and pedicure hunting. Gabe and Dan got some great shots of bronzy sculpture and after a long scouting, Bridge and I bagged some beautiful toes. That evening we had a late dinner of shrimps, creamy polenta, Coho salmon and grilled asparagus a la Dan. Shannon Payne and her friend Jason came over. We laughed over the old times. (Bridget, Jessica, Shannon and I all used to work at the Embassy Suites while in college. During those times, we participated in each others blow out parties, evictions and general rabble rousing.) It was great to see Shannon, who for your information, is doing quite well. And again, as in Louisville with Brandon, Ted and Sara, I’m kicking myself for not taking pictures! I had the camera out to get a picture of Shannon for the blog and in our good time, completely forgot! But it was a great time nonetheless. My only regret about Kansas City was Andrea being out of town, and not getting a chance to see Gigi. But alas, I have a phone and the will to visit again!

Bridget, the youngest sibling, easily the most accomplished.

Hanging out in the camper.

Conrad and Baloos' cousins: Charlotte, Frank, Winston, and Jake.

Wine makes us silly.

On the prowl.

Bridget and Dan's super cute house and jungle like garden.

And so, with Kansas City behind us and I-35 rolling out in front of us, we head home to Chicago. It’s with mixed emotions that we travel. It’s been a fast 5 weeks with so many stories and events that not even a blog authored by a jobless hack can keep up. It’ll be good to get home, but it would be just as good to keep on going.

Where the Buffalo roam...

"Hey! What, are you reading again, nerd?"
"Oh, what are you playing video games again, nerd?"
You can probably guess who said what. That was how we spent our afternoon yesterday at our campsite in the Black Hills. Gabe described the day like this: "AWESOOMME...!"
We arrived at our site the night before and set up camp. I cooked a rather awesome meal of stir fry with vermicelli noodles, frozen vegetables and peanuts. We met our campsite neighbors who partook with us their homemade strawberry margaritas. They had a two-stroke motored blender that was very road-worthy. Nice guys who offered to let Gabe ride one of their motorcycles and go on a trip with them. Gabe politely refused but it was a nice offer. Even though it was nice to relax and read and play video games,that's not the reason the day was awesome. It was awesome because we went and saw Crazy Horse and Mount Rushmore and buffaloes and mountain rams and wild turkeys and incredible vistas.


The Badlands on the Top; Crazy Horse on the Bottom.

Yesterday morning we drove out to Crazy Horse. Crazy Horse is HUGE. Indescribably huge. The face of Crazy Horse is finished and now they are working on the face of the horse he rides on. They will do the torso of C.H. and the neck of the horse last I guess. But what was interesting was the artist himself. The sculptor of Crazy Horse was an incredible artist who had been classically trained and naturally gifted. He did beautiful, pristine portraits of his friends and daughters in Carrara marble. He did gnarly, gestural but delicate portraits of sailors and horses carved in wood in only a handful of hours. Walking through the the Visitors Center we learned about the Crazy Horse monument. Walking through the sculpture studio and the room that displayed the antique furniture that used to be in his house, we learned about the artist. His first name was Korzcack and I can't spell or pronounce his last name. It begins with a Z. His wife Ruth, along with the help of his daughter Monique, run the estate and the Crazy Horse project. After a little inquiring, Monique herself actually came out to speak with Gabe. She came out hard, ready to tell the solicitor where to put his wares. But after some conversation, she realized that Gabe had no intention of selling anything and only expressed sincere interest in Korzcack's work and his style and his dream. They talked for awhile and discussed conservation methods and weather-wear and technique. He left with permission to write about Korzcack and Crazy Horse and was given the address of Monique and her mother for continued correspondence.

Look at the colors of the eroded dirt on these Badlands hills.

We left and drove to Mount Rushmore. We didn't go into the the Visitors Center there, but drove past it and around and up into Custer National State Park. The road was incredibly windy and ever upward moving. At points the road split into a single lane, parallel to the other single lane for the other direction. It was so narrow and tight, if felt like you had driven off the road, straight into the trees. We wound up and up through actual loop holes that the road made, across intricate, sturdy log bridges and through blasted stone tunnels. All of a sudden, we passed through one tunnel and were met with a clear, straight shot view of Mount Rushmore. The roads were so specifically and meticulously made as to offer that spectacular view. The trees were cut to frame Mount Rushmore for the many miles between the tunnel and the stone face. We stopped to take too many pictures but I'm afraid they don't represent the view in its entirety. Farther on, we were confronted the one of those breathtaking views, coupled with staggering heights upon precipices. As the truck rounded an upward bend, the trees fell away we saw past the mountains, to and past the farms, to where the Badlands fade away into a blur where land meets sky. Gabe said that he felt his heart jump into his throat at that sight. I agree, it was dizzying. But incredible! On the way back to the campsite we stopped at the grocer to get cheese, fruit, crackers and beer and made the rest of our day count in ways of relaxion (as our Polish friend says).
Hungry?

This morning we gathered up, said Au Revoir to our motorcycling, margarita friends and drove to Bedrock. The Bedrock of the Flintstones! I had gone there as a small child and I remembered it but I had no idea that it was in the Black Hills! We didn't pay to go into the actual Flintstones park with the little train car giving tours of Fred and Wilma's and Barney and Betty's places but we did snap a few shots in the telephone booth and in front of the Bronto Ribs stand. Inside the gift shop, I paid for two stickers with quarters, as my cash is dwindling.

We just passed into and through the Badlands National Park. If you've never been to the Badlands, you have to go there. It's incredible. This bizarre terrain of desolate, eroded volcano ash. The sedimentary lines in the jagged hills and crevices are bright red and copper and yellow and purple with grey tops. We saw a lone buffalo wander through the bottom. The land looks uninhabitable but there are tons of critters and birds that live in small animal caves that dot the hills. The erosion cuts rivulets in the hills that eventually become sharp gashes. It is amazing display of the power of wind and rain. There is nothing else like it. They call it the Badlands for a reason. Scary almost! If you got lost here you'd never get out!
So now, we're heading out onto I-90 East on the way to my home town of Sioux City Iowa.

Sleeping beauties...

Albuquerque New Mexico

I love playing drums. I don't know how really, but I love to play them anyway. One of the highlights of this trip has to be playing instruments in the basement of Ben's house in Albuquerque. We had a blast staying and Ben and Melissa's place. They have a cute little adobe house right downtown. (Their downtown doesn't resemble Chicago's Loop at all.) We stayed 4 nights in Albuquerque, 3 nights at their house. The first night at their house we just hung around, drank some really good local beer and relaxed. Ben and Melissa were stressed because of drainage problems in their yard. They had tried to hire some guys to fix the problem before we arrived in order to free themselves up for a good time. But as happens with those things, the drainage problem didn't get resolved,it got exacerbated. It was a small-jobs contractor from Craig's List they hired and he turned out to be a big loser who stood around in the shade more than he worked at all. In fact, the first day after a couple of hours of standing around, he left without a word pushing his truck, taking their shovel and wheelbarrow and was gone for about 4 hours. Turns out, he went to the dump for some
reason, ran over his phone, went and got a new one, jump-started his battery and got some food. Not necessarily in that order. He told them that the job would be done on Tuesday. As far as I know, it's still not done today on Sunday. It added that bizarre extra layer of experience that flavors the memory of the visit. Unfortunately, instead of being amused by it, Ben and Melissa were stressed out about it. Isn't the point of hiring someone to do some work to keep from being being stressed out about doing the job? Anyway, the next day Gabe and I decided to walk the dogs about a mile away to the Museum district to snap some photos of sculptures and investigate sculpture as we have made a habit of doing. It was beautiful in the shade and deadly in the sun. I sat in the shade of a lushly grassy park for an hour with the dogs rolling blissfully around while Gabe took pictures in the sculpture garden and fought off the heat with only his cowboy hat. On the trek back home, the heat was almost unbearable and I started to worry about the dogs. Conrad seemed to get skinnier right in front of us as he suffered from dehydration. When we got home, the dogs slurped up water noisily and collapsed on the cool wooden floor in front of the fan. They were fine, not even phased within thirty minutes. We all napped. That night Ben took Gabe and I out to dinner and we met up with one of his friends, an easy going cool guy named Heath. Unfortunately, Melissa had to work. She works at a cool music venue that has a soft roof that can open up at night so that while you're inside enjoying a band, you can still look up to the stars. Dinner and then to a punk bar called Atomic. We saw a pop-punk band that looked like it was headed by the rap star Big Pun, more likely, his doppelganger. We finished the night
on the town with nightcap at the Launchpad where Melissa works. On a side note, New Mexico has the highest drunk driving rates in the country and as a result, has the strictest drinking rules. Bartenders cannot, under any circumstances, have a drink while working. No more than two drinks per person, even if you are buying for other people. (Whats the fun of bartending then?) Again, anyway, we then head home, drink some more beer and head downstairs. We set up the amps and the drum kit. Ben shows me what to do with the one drum stick and the bass drum. Gabe turns up the bass amp and we all start playing. I certainly didn't know what I was doing but I could immediately feel how hesitating even half a split second can throw off the rhythm of the music. I have a whole lot more respect for drummers now that I've had a taste of it. I also now, really want to drum again. However, we were drunk and loud and Melissa came home informing us that she could hear us playing down the street! So we had to stop. But then, I decided to open a bottle of champagne to toast to Ben and Melissa's engagement. And the brothers drank a bottle of Belgian Trippel! We didn't finally crash until around 5:00am, very possibly later. We were hungover the next morning! Whew!



The next day Ben took us to the Petroglyph National Park to try to find some volcanoes and petroglyphs. We drove around for over an hour looking for the park. I swear, at one point we were lost in the desert. We saw a sand tornado, dust devils as they are known. Finally, Ben found the park entrance. We walked along this sandy trail that wound between huge and small black lava rocks that literally littered the landscape. It was a strangely awesome and desolate place, no shelter from the sun at all, lizards and small shrubby plants. We saw what we
thought were some petroglyphs but couldn't really distinguish between graffiti and actual Native American picture scrawls. Ben took tons of pictures of me and Gabe and I snapped some of the brothers. But man, it was hot and dusty and bright. Then some weird, bright red, shirtless guy came running from god knows where, rounded a bend and disappeared. We left and went to Old Towne to shop. I found the most beautiful pair of turquoise earrings. Which I didn't get. We're nearing the end of our trip and you can tell that by our bank account levels. We walked around and I found the most beautiful shell and turquoise necklace. Which also didn't get. I tried it on but I didn't get it. We found a calico cat sleeping in a plant pot, smashing down
the flowers and then we went home. That evening we went and had some true New Mexican cuisine. Spicy! I had blue corn enchiladas with beans and what they call "Christmas" chiles. That's green and red chiles. I definitely like green chiles the best. After that we went to a steak house (eww!) with the intentions of having a drink and seeing their friend Nels perform. We were so full that no one could fit a drink in. We stayed for about 2 songs and then went home. We vegged out in front of the t.v. and crashed. We are getting too old to be partying until dawn!

So we left Albuquerque and drove up to Santa Fe and met up with Shamba and Samantha. We didn't get to stay but it was awesome to meet up with friends from Chicago who are on their own similar cross country trek. They turned their truck into a veg-oil truck and are camping around before attending a Perma-Culture workshop in Oregon. Meeting in Santa Fe gave us a chance to trade stories and compare advice. I hope (and believe) that they have as great a time as Gabe and I have had. Shamba has turned out to be a great friend after all these years and it's cool to watch him and Samantha grow/work towards their own life goals. They seemed tired
but happy as we left them, this little knowing smile on Shamba's face as he waved good-bye.
Up through Colorado and into a storm we drove and we finally crashed at another strict-ruled KOA in Colorado Springs. Gabe drove another 8 hours the next day through Wyoming and into South Dakota. We passed through Lusk, Wyoming which is where my mothers family's Ranch is. It's actually 18 miles outside of Lusk. We couldn't stop and I think I broke my moms heart about it but we discussed it with her and we just didn't have the luxury of time. I have distant cousins that still work the ranch out there. There's a huge dramatic story about how we were supposed to inherit some of that land but I'll save that for another time. We found Big Pine Campground in Custer South Dakota, close to Crazy Horse and Mount Rushmore. It's an incredibly
beautiful area and close to my family. It's cool and fresh here with the smell of pine sap lightly flavoring the air. The pine trees are hugely tall and perfectly straight. The gravel drives are sprinkled with sparkling mica. It's very comfortable here. I'm sure we'll be back here again and then we can visit the Ranch in Lusk.

Flatlands...

"Please, don't stand so close to the road." This came from Gabe as he lay under the truck working on the jack to lift the truck so we could change out the flat tire. We were on a barren stretch of road between Austin and San Angelo, Texas. "Holy Shit" was the next thing that came out of his mouth.
"What?"
"The other tire is about to go. It's down to the steel mesh. I hope we can make it into the next town."
We changed the tire and gingerly made our way towards town, about 18 miles away. Half way there, we realized that it was Sunday and that there wouldn't necessarily be a tire shop open. Luckily we found a Wal-mart Supercenter that had a tire shop. Turns out that when Gabe and Johnny replaced tie-rod ends, they didn't think to do an alignment. And after 4000 miles on unaligned tires, they blew. That was one of two mishaps on the road in West Texas. We also got our first speeding ticket out there in the middle of nowhere. The two young highway patrolmen were nice and probably bored so they tailed us for awhile before they pulled us over. One of them was really quite nice. He was a chatty-kathy and wanted to know what kind of dogs we had and where we were going. Were we going to Hobbs? to the dog races? "...How long have you been traveling? You're really from Chicago? How many miles to the gallon do you get? Where have you been?"
We had just come from 3 nights in Austin, Texas visiting Tiff and Dave. Tiff is my stepsister and Dave is her husband. But to me, they are old friends. Funny thing is that, when I was in high school, they were my friends and my high school boyfriend (who was out of high school) lived at their house. Our parents weren't married, or even dating at that time. Then, when I was in college, my dad starting dating Pat and happened to be at Tiff and Dave's wedding. How cool that my friends became my family. We were considering Austin as a potential city to build our home. Austin, as the corporate home of Whole Foods, has the most beautiful grocery store I have ever seen. Aisles of gluten-free pizza and beer. Acres of bulk goods. Produce that goes on forever, albeit expensively. Austin also has a toast colored landscape right now because this is the hottest summer they've had on record.
Gabe took some pictures of the Umlauf Sculpture Garden in the blazing heat while I stayed in the air-conditioned truck with the dogs. We had some nice respite from driving while hanging out with Tiff and Dave and their two dogs, Bus and Simon.

Bus is a HUGE pit bull and Simon is chubby, football sized Pug. All four dogs ran in herds and scarfed down food and played chase and slept on the couch. Poor Baloo was lowest on the totem pole even though he was second largest in size. But he's a mommy's boy. Unfortunately, his defensiveness made him snap out at all the dogs so we had to chastise him often. Gabe and Dave went driving around, finding sculptures and taking pictures and checking out Dave's shop. He works at Austin Speed Shop, partly owned by Jessie James of Monster Garage fame. Gabe got some great pictures of some sculptures that really needed some work at University of Texas. Tiff and I went shopping. I got some lovely items: vintage necklace and matching earrings, an apron dress, turquoise colored costume jewelry, and a prettily embroidered peasant-style sundress. It was nice to walk around and chat with Tiff and get on the ground floor with Austin. Later that evening, Dave took us to a great restaurant called Kerry Lane and I had a much craved-for veggieburger and mashed potatoes.
Though we had a really nice time and the dogs got worn out from all that play time, it was nice to get back on the road. We stayed in San Angelo at a nice and clean but rather nondescript KOA. Purely a functional stay. And boring. The most interesting thing about that place was the bizarre amount of rain that fell. I was walking the dogs around the perimeter of the park when it started to sprinkle. Within 2 and half minutes, it was a torrential downpour. But not like the downpour I'm used to in the upper mid-west. Instead of little sprinkles that turn into big drops and dark clouds, this was consistently little sprinkles that were just denser in volume. I couldn't really see the rain, but I was invisibly soaked in 10 feet of walking. The dogs and I ran back to the truck, fumbled with the lock and dove inside. Gabe came running shortly after me from the office with sloshy, increasingly watered down cup of coffee in his hand. We waited out the rain and then got on the road to New Mexico.
We stayed last night in Roswell, New Mexico. Besides its abundance of aliens, there were some really nice people, too. We stayed in the cutest RV park I've seen yet called the Red Barn RV Park. I highly recommend it. It was tiny and mostly filled with permanent mobile-homers. Our neighbor came out to chat with us when we got there and she said that she had lived there for 4 years. She works in Roswell and lives in her 5Th-wheel camper during the week and drives 2 hours to her real home on the weekends. We met another couple this morning who are full time RVer's. They sold their house and all their belongings 3 years ago, bought a 5Th-wheel, a Ford diesel pickup, and a Harley, and set out on the road. They winter in Arizona where 12 hours of volunteer work a week lets them live for free in a RV park and set out on the road during the summer. They love it and wouldn't have anything different. Chad and Jo are their names. Jo gave me a tour of their home and holy crap, it is nicer than our apartment. It has sleeping room for up to 7 people and three times the storage of our apartment. Their 5Th-wheel is what is called a "toy hauler" and includes a garage of sorts that carries their Harley and a large ATV with a dump body. Can we say excessive? But hey, that's their home. They were cool people to meet and gave us some advice and told some great stories. People like that can really lift your spirits and energize your continuing trip. We lunched at a coffee shop called Not of This World and set out again. Tonight we are staying at a touristy RV park right on Route 66 that has a vintage theme. Gotta add some hokey to our trip. The climate here is wonderful. I could totally do this dry heat thing. We set up our camper, put the dogs on leads, set out our chairs and grill in the shade and lo and behold, we are in the most comfortable atmosphere yet. It is dry and dusty but I own lotion. Not a problem. And now that it's after dark, it's quite cool. Great sleeping weather, as they say.
Led Zeppelin's "When the Levee Breaks" blaring on the stereo, this incredible panorama of land before us, and it feels free. Red dirt and low sparse shrubs and cacti, cows, goats, sheep and these small, wild, horned deer-like animals populating this flat area. You can literally see down the road until your vision fails. One can actually see the curve of the earth. A bend in the road will present you with surprise mesa or a distant mountain that was before unseen. 50 miles between towns, don't want to get a flat out here.

Sidenote

I've been getting some responses that the blog emails are hard to read with the light colored font. My advice to you is to follow the link http://www.conradandbaloo.blogspot.com/ and go directly to the website. It has a black background that makes the pastel font pop.
Anywho, since I have a very good connection to the internet here, I thought I'd add some photos that I haven't been able to fit it and write a little bit.



Gabe in front of the Anniversary Gates





Yellow Fever Research Center/ Greatest Metal Objects Library in America







We are in a Hot Springs, Arkansas KOA right now. I'm pretty sure the gestapo runs this joint. It is the strictest, most moderated campsite we've experienced yet. At each site there is a cement slab with a metal grill on it for the firepit. The cement is cold and creates quite a challenge for the fire to actually get hot enough to burn. They announced over the loud speaker at 8am this morning that breakfast would be served for exactly one and a half hours. "NO ___" signs (no bicycling, no skateboarding, no flying, no rollerblading, no laughing, diving, singing, crying, listening, whispering, playing, inhaling, relating...) abound. There is a 4-digit code to get into the bathrooms. Now, I know that this is for safety but the place is at least a mile from the road and the bathrooms are attached to the office and situated deep in the camp. Who are they worried about? There are streetlights so numerous that it felt like sleeping outside my apartment in Chicago! Especially since they had traffic. They have a sentry on duty, tooling around at all the hours of the night in a golf cart. At least they have bamboo. Gabe recommends this KOA as much as he recommends people to eat raw earthworms. The dogs are so bored here they aren't even trying to escape the wide open camper door.
Making soup at the Gestapo's KOA.

Four of many beautiful hand made rosettes that adorn the two giant gates.

The National Ornamental Metal Museum was really an awesome experience. It was so homey and familiar. Everyone seemed like they were in your friend circle in college. They had a little bronze foundry and a place to do small iron pours. A couple of the Artists-in-Residences had some really nice work. Very subtle and detailed. It was the very lack of strictness there that gave it that comfortable feeling. The indoor gallery part of the museum was immaculate albiet small and intimate. It is part of a civil war era campus that housed a hospital and the number one Yellow Fever research center. They had turned the smaller buildings like the nurses quarters and the surgeons quarters into the museum and the living spaces for the artists and the director. The Yellow Fever Research Center was turned into the best metal objects library in the country. They could really use Gabes expertise and I could really benefit from one of the Artist-in-Residence positions or at least one of the weekend classes. I think we'll be back there again. Plus, we never got to go to Graceland so now we are obligated to go back.

Well, I need to shower and we have an 8 hour drive to Tiff and Dave's in Austin Texas. Later.

Southern Detour

Ursula Von Rydingsvard, top; Anthony Caro, bottom

For the last few days, we have been traveling south from Maine. Our first stop was Storm King in upstate New York. Outside of Beacon to be exact. Storm King is a 500 acre outdoor sculpture park. It is breathtaking in it's beauty and vastness. The giant sculptures really have room to breathe, hopefully fulfilling the artists vision. It was pretty incredible to see these same sculptures that I had studied in school and had only seen on slide film. My favorite piece was by Menashe Kadishman, called "Suspended". Huge pieces of weathering steel made poetic by its graceful balance. We saw several pieces by Sol Lewitt, David Smith and Mark Di Suvero. I can't get Isamu Noguchi's piece, "Momo Taro" out of my head. Large pieces of stone cut and polished smooth on some faces, left raw but shaped in other places. Large hollowed spaces reminiscent of the place the pit of an avocado left when removed from the flesh. Everything was in beautiful condition and Storm King employed some interesting ways of mounting the outdoor sculptures to the bases that both reflected the piece but were clearly seperate from the piece.

Menashe Kadishman

From Storm King, we were on our way to Washington D.c. and then to Virginia. But first we decided to stop to spend the night at a campsite that was not a KOA. I'm not one for brand loyalty, but the KOA's are always clean and dependable with working wifi. They usually even have dog parks. So we found this little non-KOA in the south east tip of Pennsylvania. Turns out we were 10 miles from our friend Claire's mom's house on a christmas tree farm. In retrospect we should have just gone there. We descended deep down a very windy road, past old skinny cows and old wooden bridges until it finally emptied out into a little valley. The valley was so buried that it felt like you were in the bottom of a bowl. As we pull into this small, literally backwoods camp ground, that catchy banjo tune from Deliverence wafted into my head. All the people on the cabin porches stopped to stare and the little kids on bikes paid no heed to our truck. They just zoomed by as close as they could, completely ambivilant to the danger. We found a space next to a very shallow, clear as tap water creek in soft, barely tread upon grass. The space was private by way of being one of many empty lots in a row. We built a quick fire and drank some vodka and juice. One of the hillbillies came up, and in a thick drawl, asked Gabe if this was a custom made camper. Then they talked about the Redskins. There was a dog that, though friendly, wandered around the park, visiting all the campers. Some campers across the park had brought along a karaoke machine and were brazenly singing to entertain the rest of us. We locked up tight that night.

The next day, we were supposed to get up early and make the 3 hour trip to D.c. so that we could walk around the Mall and give old Bushie the bird. But we got up late and were way off schedule. We had a date at Brian's house that evening at 6pm. We got into D.C., looked for parking for about 20 minutes and then walked the dogs to the Hershorn Museum outdoor sculpture park for about 20 minutes. Gabe took some pictures and we ate at a sidewalk vender and then rushed back to the truck so that we could get on the road. We had to be in Blacksburg Virginia at 6:00.

Yoko Ono's piece about Wishes at the Hirschorn.

Brian is Gabes oldest and dearest friend. He and his wife Amy are corporate lawyers and they are raising two little girls Audrey and Sidney, Sidney being just 3 weeks old! It's funny to watch Brian and Gabe. They laugh at exactly the same things. A joke that will be chuckle worthy to the rest of us is sidesplitting to the both of them. One definitely gets a sense of they long long friendship. Brian and his older daughter Audrey have a great report. They seem to relate and communicate together on a level all their own with a high degree of mutual respect. Gabe is also great with kids. Gabe and Audrey immediately became friends, comrades, pals, chums and partners in crime. Audrey is a cute girl with huge blue eyes that turn down slightly at the outside, giving her a specific look that says, "It's ok that you love me, its not your fault. You can't help it." At two, she repeats everything. But she's smart. She pointed out a back hoe to me with the words, "Look, orange back hoe". Her hair looks to be in permanent pigtails, with a little fuzzy matting at the rubber bands. Her little pantaloons are always falling off her diaper. At the time of writing this rough draft, she was finger painting, thoroughly impressing her observers. Comments like, "That looks like a Cy Twombly" or "I'm pretty sure Marc Chagall sold something like that for millions" were heard often. We stayed in the guest room at Brian and Amy's. They were very gracious hosts and cooked us dinner and breakfast. I couldn't sleep so before dawn, I walked the dogs in the sub-development neighborhood, chaperoned by a neighbors very large, very friendly, very slobbery black lab.

Gabe holding Sydney and chatting with Audrey and laughing with Brian.

The last two nights we stayed in Louisville Kentucky. Louisville is a very cool city. It is now on our list of possible cities to move to. We lunched with Brandon Jones, one of my good friends from college. Blissfully we ate a mediterranean place with lots of great vegetarian options. (I'm so sick of gas station food that I may actually starve to death on this trip...) Brandon was great. He was funny as usual and he looked good. He took us to a huge beautiful park and then directed us to a hip local brewery and then departed our company for work. We had a beer and walked around the neighborhood looking at houses and discussing what we want in a house until Ted called. We GPS'ed it over to Ted and Sara's house. They have a cute little bungalo in Germantown with a huge beautiful back yard. The house was very cute with a loft ceiling in the back. Sara made up a big fire in the firepit outside in the backyard and we ladies drank wine and the gents drank Kentucky respectable bourbon and gingers. The dogs raced and barked at the cats in the windows. It was nice day. Louisville is a pretty cool place and extremely cheap to live in. Right now, we're in a small boring RV park outside of Memphis. We got in late and we don't have any wood or real food so we're relaxing in the camper with Regina Spektor on the stereo, reading and typing, respectively. We are tired from driving and from laughing at the Savage Love podcast by Dan Savage. Tomorrow we'll visit the metal museum and then head out on the road to eventually end up in Austin. Until then, au revoir.

Brandon telling me something about Louisville.

It is now Wednesday afternoon. I've had some internet hiccups so hopefully this will be posted once and for all. We went to the National Ornamental Metal Museum here in Memphis. It was awesome. It is staffed, founded and run by artists so it has a bit of a loosey-goosey feel but very heartfelt and passionate. Everyone we talked to from the catalogist Leila, the apprentice Jake, metalsmither Kevin and founder Jim "Wally" Wallace were incredibly knowledgeable, nice and fully willing to show us the ins and outs of the museum. It was a very homey place with a couple of interesting Artist-in-Residencies coming up that seem really inviting. Please check them out online at http://www.metalmuseum.org/. There is some interesting things going on with their permanent works and they have the most extensive library on metal literature in the country. It is definitely one of the highlights of the trip so far. This all just happened this afternoon so no pictures yet but I'll add them later.

Gabe driving and Conrad chewing on the baseball he found, no doubt hit at one point by a Louisville Slugger.