America, America...

We're slowly making our way back to the East coast, state by state. Since all we're really doing is what feels like an encore performance of the movie Groundhog Day (wake up, drive, check-in to hotel, sleep, repeat), I've decided to note some interesting tid-bits we've picked up on our country's interstates.

Rawlins, WY--the middle of nowhere
We stopped in Rawlins for gas and, while most gas station convenience stores don't exhibit the best about a place, we experienced some severely interesting characters at this one. One patron, who seemingly rolled his clothes in goat hair before leaving his house, allowed his large bare belly to hang well below the hemline of his shirt. Another customer, whose only purchase was a case of beer, stared at me in such a way that made my stomach turn and my fists ball into a Chester, PA-clench. To top it all off, the cashier was a woman of knownless age with hair expertly coiffed into an open-topped beehive effigy to Bride of Frankenstein.

As J and I stumbled over each other in a terror-induced flee to the car, we vowed never to come back to Rawlins. We took the main route out of town (which happened to transform directly into the interstate) as quickly as we could. There were no other exits in sight... A ways down the highway, we realized why Rawlins residents might be a little "different": all of the town's homes butted against or laid in the shadow of the oil refinery. Scary place.

Nebraska: flat, cornfields, smelly
One popular snack in the convenience stores is popcorn (I wonder why?!). You can get many gourmet flavors including jalapeno and french vanilla. Despite the delicious-sounding flavors of popcorn, the fields from which the corn comes is straight-up rank. Let's just say that one section of stink woke me out of my sleep!

Iowa: Not as bad as we thought!
Someone warned J that the drive through Iowa would be "brutal." We found Iowa to be quite beautiful after the dry, death fields of Wyoming (and did I mention Rawlins?) and the flatness (did I mention stinkiness?) of Nebraska. Iowa has rolling hills, lush green pastures, many trees, and no road construction!

Tomorrow, we head across the rest of Iowa, all of Indiana, and end in Columbus, OH, my parents' old stompin' ground. Who knows what these asphalt trails will reveal next?

Shot Down in Stumptown

We've come to the end of the line. I was really psyched for Portland-- had high expectations. I'd always heard Portland was the cooler, laid-back little sister to Seattle. Since we loved Seattle so much Portland seemed like it would be the best way to end our trip.

Seemed.

J had a really good observation: "Portland is like a small town trying to be a big city. It's not really sure what it wants to do..." He's absolutely right. Even the people are somehow amiss.

I think I'll just sum up Portland with a tidy list of good and bad:

WHAT WE LOVED ABOUT PORTLAND
1. The bikes!
2. The city-sponsored recycling and composting programs! Curbside composting--great.
3. Arts and Crafts style homes
4. Gardens on every lawn and curb!
5. Powell's Books
6. Papa G's Vegan Deli

WHY PORTLAND'S NOT THE PLACE FOR US
1. The poor drivers (Everyone's used to bikes?)
2. The poor highways and urban planning (There's a river here? I can't see for the overpasses.)
3. Teenagers, young professionals, and retirees alike dressing like this:

Ya know, I get the hipster thing. It's great. It's vintage. It's rock. It's cool. It's thrifty (as in, economical and environmentally-conscious.) But when the WHOLE city dresses that way it loses the hip. And then it's just -ster, and that simply doesn't make any sense.

4. The Manhattan-wannabe Pearl District. The only place where you don't find hipsters--just chain retail. Boo! I miss the hipsters already.

5. An environment where "young professional" = "barista."

Basically, we love that Portland is so green, literally, and figuratively, in their environmental efforts. However, other than knowing that about itself, Portland is in sort-of an identity limbo. It's a city, but it's not. Great neighborhoods exist but are bordered by skeezy ones. People avoid the mainstream, but all seem the same. Tree-lined streets quickly turn to, ahem, "theater" districts (yeah, those kind of theaters), then turn back to residential again...

I'm just confused. I thought you'd be my best friend, Portland. I thought we'd hold hands and watch the sun rise over Mt. Hood. I thought you'd whisper tofu-scented environmental policies into my ear while directing me to the next hike. I thought I'd be returning home with one of those "love Oregon" stickers slapped on my bumper.

Alas, the East Coast has caught up with this girl (and guy) and we're ready to come home. Maybe it's because it's the end of the road, maybe it's because we're too steeped in East Coast pollution, maybe we stayed on the wrong side of the city or maybe it's because we're just not as liberal as we hoped we were, but Portland is, in our weary eyes, just a plaid-wearin' place where they leave their food scraps on their overgrown, weed-choked curbs and tell themselves it's the coolest place in the world.

Bitterness, out.

Seattle ROCKS!

Pike Place Market

Sometimes, the most touristy experiences turn out to be the best. We visited the Experience Music Project [Museum] today and had a blast! One of the most striking exhibits was a room dedicated to Jimi Hendrix: videos of his performances played, copies of his hand-written lyrics lined the walls, and his diary was on display. The Hendrix exhibit was appealing to both J and I because while J could stare at the multiple guitars which were used throughout Hendrix's life (as well as the amps and drum kits used by his band), I was awe-struck by the written history. Hendrix's diary and lyrics were of particular intrigue to me; his handwriting was loose yet precise, and included that typewriter-style letter "a" that many creative personas tend to write. (I've noticed that a lot of my creative-thinker students write the same way.)

Another room in EMP featured guitars through the ages including Clapton's "Layla" guitar and Kurt Cobain's "Smells Like Teen Spirit" guitar. I don't get star-struck, but these items are certainly important historical artifacts. And beyond that, they're just very, very cool!

Besides some incredible music memorabilia, EMP has some fun interactive exhibits that are definitely worth the visit. J and I got to perform "Purple Haze" as though we were on a real stage in front of a crowd. J played the drums and I faked the guitar and stumbled through the lyrics. The museum, of course, offered our performance video on DVD, but we decided to forgo the pricey DVD (even though we ROCKED IT!) and got a concert poster of our "show." Fun stuff!

The museum also featured mini session studios where one could practice, learn, or mess around with instruments. Here's J in a demo session with a drum kit:


I had tons of fun in a (soundproof!) vocal studio. I pretended I was Christina Aguilera and loved every second of it.

Another highlight of the museum, seriously, we loved this place, was the Jim Henson exhibit! I grew up with Sesame Street and The Muppett Show so I have a bit of an obsession with Henson's work. I'm also a ham and love the concept of puppets. J and I performed a grunge version of "Rainbow Connection" with Keith Moon and Kurt Cobain Muppets. Honestly, a dream of mine has been to perform with The Muppets so I was in love.

J with "Keith Moon"

1234 Sesame Street!

After our rockin' experiences, we hit Pike Place Market, ate some awesome African food, then bussed-it home. Seattle is friendly, clean, laid-back, and comfortable. As in Chicago, our city bus experience was shockingly nice. We leave for Portland tomorrow, but Seattle left a positive note (pun intended) in our hearts.

As I type this, the Seattle local news is reporting that Seattle broke the Guinness world record for "most walking zombies" in an homage to Michael Jackson's "Thriller" last weekend. =)

We Did It!

We have officially driven coast-to-coast!

After arriving in Seattle (after a borrrrrring and windy drive across Washington) yesterday, we hit a local restaurant, the Coastal Kitchen, recommended to us by the caretaker at our B&B. We enjoyed a fabulous dinner then walked home and went to bed. (Nope, no Seattle music scene for us old-heads.)

Today, we drove to the Olympic Peninsula in an effort to see Mt. Olympus--the American one, not the one with Zeus towering at the top. However, the gods of this mountain would not have it, and decidedly socked-in the mountains and the view. We enjoyed the drive anyway! We continue to be amazed at how different the definition of "metro area" is from East-coast cities. Once outside of downtown Seattle things are rather spread apart again. Once on the Peninsula--it's an entirely different world. Think the beach areas of Sussex County, DE, circa 1985... It's rural and the hairstyles are about 1985, too...

We ended up just hitting the Olympic National Park Visitors Center and watching a film about the park since we didn't have the time nor ability to see anything! A volunteer ranger was a pleasure to chat with and gave us a recommendation for a local restaurant called The Three Crabs. We drove through, literally through, all the way to the water, a small town called Sequim (pronounced SQim) and found The Three Crabs sitting along the shore. It wasn't much to look at, and the 1970's wood paneling inside plus the paper placemats made us balk a bit--okay, made me balk a bit; J loves dives-- but the seafood we ordered for lunch was just the authentic experience we hoped for. Some of my family members received a text message pic of the cast iron stock pot, brimming with half a Dungeness crab, halibut, sole, clams, oysters, prawns, and scallops, that was placed on our table. Delicious!

The Three Crabs!

The smell of sea air is the same by the Pacific as it is by the Atlantic and J and I are both missing our home beaches. Plus, it's cloudy and chilly here (in Seattle, go figure) and we crave some sun! We'll hit some touristy things tomorrow but we'll be thinking about home...

"Oh Beautiful, for spacious skies..."

Happy 4th of July Everyone!

In one of the posts below, my mom commented on our travels, "How more American can you get, out exploring this great country of ours?" and I may have to agree. I'm not sure I feel any more patriotism from this trip, but I certainly understand what early Americans (and early Westerners) must have seen and felt upon their arrival.

Montana is gorgeous. There is so much land! If we thought the area where we live is pretty rural--we had no idea. The speed limit on highways here is 75 mph since everything is so far apart, people and places alike. J commented yesterday while merging onto a highway, "I forgot where I was. I paused and looked really long for oncoming traffic--and there isn't a car in sight." As in South Dakota, we're experiencing high, blue skies, green mountains, and craggy peaks in the distance. Add in our B&B experience here and I'd be lying if I didn't admit that we've looked at some real estate in the area. (Don't worry, the winters are too cold and long for us to really consider moving here!)

We've been staying in Bozeman, MT since Thursday at this incredible B&B called Howler's Inn which is also a wolf sanctuary. The owners care for two wolf packs: one consisting of four older wolves (an alpha male, an alpha female, a beta male, and an omega male) and another pack consisting of a male, a female, and an 8-week-old puppy named Sekani. J had the opportunity to hold and pet Sekani yesterday! Despite the semi-domesticated actions of the second wolf pack (they were raised since puppyhood by the owners), there is still something magical and slightly dangerous about being so close to wolves. Throughout the day, for various reasons, the packs will howl, as is their nature; the sound is captivating. If ever you are in Bozeman, stay at the Howler's Inn. You will never experience anything else like it!

J petting one of the larger wolves, Comanche, who's a big baby who loves attention

Little Sekani drinking after dinner

We have also enjoyed exploring the cool college town of Bozeman, which surrounds Montana State University. There are many eclectic shops, great restaurants and little parks in the town. Despite the liberalness of the downtown area, we've been having a tough time finding any veg food and have had to settle for eating cheese now and again for any sustenance! The grocery stores here are well-stocked with organic and vegan options, though, so many of our dinners have been microwaveable meals from the freezer section.

Today we intend to take a little hike, have a nice dinner, and perhaps go to a free music festival and fireworks in the next town (50 miles away).

Enjoy the Fourth!



P.S. Funny story about Six Degrees of Separation: We got talking with two guys who were guests here yesterday, a father and son fishing the great fly-fishing rivers around Bozeman. The father asked where we were from and knew, to the highway, exactly where our house is. We said,

"How'd ya know the area so well?" He replied,

"I'm from Cape May, my son went to William and Mary, and we drove that way often." After I commented that I have family in Cape May Courthouse, he said,

"Well, that's actually where I live and work."

I decided to throw my family's name out there to see if he knew them, and, as it turns out, this guy not only did work on my cousins' teeth but used to play basketball with my Uncle Mike! Who would have thought that we would run into people in Montana who knew the name Studzinski? Small world, indeed!

I also saw a license plate yesterday that read "LIEB2." I should have asked them if that was their name or just an assigned plate, but they drove off too fast.

Thoughts on Yellowstone--a post from both of us

Apparently, although the state of Delaware could fit inside of Yellowstone National Park, and many times over inside of the state of Wyoming, and although the entire population of Delaware surpasses that of ALL of Wyoming--y'all don't get out West much, eh? Throughout South Dakota and Wyoming, everytime we showed our ID's for credit card purchases, we were presented with wide eyes and a shocked: "Wow. I don't think I've ever met/waited on/talked to anyone from Delaware before." Our first few minutes in Yellowstone, we ended up as part of someone's roadtrip game. We heard a girl yell, "Oh my god!" at sight of our license plate while her brother explained to us that they had a $10 bet going that they wouldn't see a Delaware license plate. C'mon Delaware! Three million people visit Yellowstone each SUMMER and you're not part of that?!?
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Yellowstone sits atop an underground volcano. The entire park is the result of a constantly moving, spewing, and shifting Earth structure beneath the surface. Geologically speaking, it's pretty amazing. The amount, and type of tourists, not so amazing. But we'll save that for later.

The camping portion of Yellowstone got off to a rough start. With temperatures dipping to near freezing, we were counting on our air mattress to serve as a nice buffer between us and the cold ground. However, we sprung a leak and spent the greater part of the first night shivering, wide awake, on the near frozen tundra of Bridge Bay Campground.

Our visit to the Old Faithful area the next morning set the tone for Yellowstone; beautiful scenery, not so beautiful people. To give you an idea of the typical Yellowstone visitor, I will share this quote from the visitor center at Old Faithful and let you draw your own conclusion. "The next predicted eruption will be within 10 minutes before, or 10 minutes after 11:44 a.m. Remember, we only predict, we don't schedule."



Pics from the geyser field surrounding Old Faithful


Old Faithful from a non-tourist-obscured vantagepoint

Neither of us really understood in advance just how large Yellowstone is. In the span of four days, we put nearly 600 miles on the Jeep seeing the Tetons and Jackson Hole, searching for the elusive Druid Peak pack of wolves, and driving to the corral to go on a horseback trip through a portion of the Lamar Valley. If you're planning a trip to Yellowstone we highly recommend deciding what your priorities are( geology, water activities, animal viewing) and plan your lodging accordingly. It really is too big to try and do it all from one location.

We left Yellowstone a day early, partially because of sleeping-in-a-tent issues, partially because of the tourists, and partially because we woke up at 2 a.m. to people screaming in the campground. We learned later that a bear had been in the campground and the screams were screams of terror.

We're blogging from a Comfort Inn in Bozeman, MT where the only thing growling is the ice machine.



A cute coyote trotting across the plains; a double rainbow after a rainstorm

Maverick, we have comments now!

I apologize that the comments feature hasn't been working on the blog. (And I apologize for giggling at my parents behind their back for thinking it was their lack of internet-skeelz...) However, I think things are working now! I put a basic template back into place and changed a few settings. Voila! Easier than avoiding a Michael Jackson grief party!

I've also added pictures to the previous post from South Dakota. We'll be in Bozeman, MT for the next few days so pics from Yellowstone will be coming soon.

Please tell us what you're thinking!

P.S. The post title is reminiscent of Wyoming's gas stations; they're all named Maverick. That should give you an idea of how we'd fit in in Wyoming, hee hee.