Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Life In The Plains Of Montana
Apparently when you drive through Montana, there are stretches of road hundreds of miles long where you don’t pass any truck stops, rest stops, walmarts, or even any real towns. This can pose a problem if you are towing your home and are looking for a place to park it for the night. Our solution? Eventually we got so tired that we found a dirt side road, pulled over, and crashed for the night. Bright and early the next morning we were awoken to the sound of frantic “moooooo’s”. Apparently we had parked in a pasture. When I looked out the window I found a mama cow staring at the shiny silver object in her yard trying to figure out what it could possibly be. She wouldn’t pass it. Instead she just stood there, belting out at us and doing her best to keep her calf behind her. In fact it turned out we were surrounded on all sides, each by a cow more confused and louder than the next. Needless to say we were awake, and it was one of the most humorous starts to a day on the trip.
The Trek Back West
No road trip across America is complete without a stop in… Fargo? Ok I will be honest, I kind of thought our stop in Fargo was going to be one of my least memorable because, come on, its Fargo! Well I was wrong.
Our main purpose for stopping in Fargo was to see one of Celsey’s best friends in the world, Joy, and her husband Nathaniel. But I also learned two interesting facts about Fargo while we where there. 1) Fargonians drink more alcohol per capita that ANY other city in the U.S. (I was told that’s because there is nothing else to do there in the winter!) And 2) They have quite possibly the grouchiest library staff anywhere!
Most of our time was spent just sitting around a table and catching up on one another lives and telling stories as we hadn’t seen each other since Cels and I got married. It was a long overdue reunion and my wife just glowed as she soaked up every precious minute we all had together.
Since both Joy and Nathaniel have jobs, Cels and I decided we would fill our day with a trip to the library to get caught up on all sorts of boring stuff like bills, blogs, our plans for the next few weeks ect. A very important part of all of that is access to the internet, and therefore a computer. Luckily (or so we thought) Fargo just built a huge new library. It was in fantastic shape but best of all there were two rooms of computers, totaling somewhere around sixty computers. Unfortunately, since we weren’t Fargonians, they restricted our use to 30 minutes each. Now the 30 minute restriction is nothing new to public libraries, most places use it as a way to make sure 1 person doesn’t hog a computer all day, while someone else was waiting. So when my thirty minutes were up I walked back to the librarian to inquire about re-upping my minutes, on account that there were a grand total of 9 people in the whole library at 1pm on a Thursday. I was denied. Seriously. There were easily fifty open computers to be used and no one would grant me access to use them! I couldn’t believe it.
Our second night in town we decided to take a trip “downtown” to walk the streets and try and catch some live music. We stumbled upon one of our greatest lucky finds of the trip: a vintage car rally. I don’t want to exaggerate but I would guess there were somewhere in the neighborhood of 250 gorgeous classic cars. It was like Tim the tool man Taylor’s heaven. Everywhere you looked there was another pristine hotrod or old truck. I am not even that big of a car fan and I was like a kid in a candy store.
All in all it was a great visit. Great friends. Great cars. Great time. Maybe every trip across America should have a stop in Fargo!
Our main purpose for stopping in Fargo was to see one of Celsey’s best friends in the world, Joy, and her husband Nathaniel. But I also learned two interesting facts about Fargo while we where there. 1) Fargonians drink more alcohol per capita that ANY other city in the U.S. (I was told that’s because there is nothing else to do there in the winter!) And 2) They have quite possibly the grouchiest library staff anywhere!
Most of our time was spent just sitting around a table and catching up on one another lives and telling stories as we hadn’t seen each other since Cels and I got married. It was a long overdue reunion and my wife just glowed as she soaked up every precious minute we all had together.
Since both Joy and Nathaniel have jobs, Cels and I decided we would fill our day with a trip to the library to get caught up on all sorts of boring stuff like bills, blogs, our plans for the next few weeks ect. A very important part of all of that is access to the internet, and therefore a computer. Luckily (or so we thought) Fargo just built a huge new library. It was in fantastic shape but best of all there were two rooms of computers, totaling somewhere around sixty computers. Unfortunately, since we weren’t Fargonians, they restricted our use to 30 minutes each. Now the 30 minute restriction is nothing new to public libraries, most places use it as a way to make sure 1 person doesn’t hog a computer all day, while someone else was waiting. So when my thirty minutes were up I walked back to the librarian to inquire about re-upping my minutes, on account that there were a grand total of 9 people in the whole library at 1pm on a Thursday. I was denied. Seriously. There were easily fifty open computers to be used and no one would grant me access to use them! I couldn’t believe it.
Our second night in town we decided to take a trip “downtown” to walk the streets and try and catch some live music. We stumbled upon one of our greatest lucky finds of the trip: a vintage car rally. I don’t want to exaggerate but I would guess there were somewhere in the neighborhood of 250 gorgeous classic cars. It was like Tim the tool man Taylor’s heaven. Everywhere you looked there was another pristine hotrod or old truck. I am not even that big of a car fan and I was like a kid in a candy store.
All in all it was a great visit. Great friends. Great cars. Great time. Maybe every trip across America should have a stop in Fargo!
Good Times In Canoes
I am not sure where I first learned about the boundary waters, but as soon as I did I knew it was a part of the world God designed especially for me. It is a simple, primitive area over flowing with countless lakes begging to be canoed, and all teaming with fish. A place so remote that neither of my world traveler parents had even visited. And so they decided it was the perfect place to meet up with us on our trek. Without them it probably would have been a top five stop, with them it was probably my favorite so far.
We went in totally blind. Since no one had ever been there we really didn’t know what to expect. The books had told us to expect two things: rain and bugs. Talking to the locals in “town” (a three hour drive mind you) they prepared us with multiple bottles of bug spray and apologized that they had sold out of bug nets for your face. Needless to say we headed out and my moms biggest expectation was that we would sit inside, watch the rain, and play board games.
As it turned out we timed it just right. An unusually long winter had pushed back the arrival of the bugs, and we only saw rain over a few short spurts.
One day we set out to do a small hike. The host at our campground told us she didn’t recommend it, but she was a 60 year old smoker. The guidebooks said it would take 7 hours, but that was for fat Americans. My mom was confident we could do this 7 hour hike in “no more that two and a half hours.” To top it off we had planned to do another hike at sunset. Nearly six hours later we limped back to the car, exhausted, dehydrated, unable to walk any further and just straight pooped. We barely made it through the door, so tired that we didn’t even bother to do the dinner dishes. By that point the idea of another hike was humorous.
There has been one lesson I have learned over my life that really shouldn’t be challenged: my mom doesn’t make bets she isn’t sure she will win. So why I decided to wager a swim in the lake based on mindless fact is beyond me. On an impulse while grocery shopping I bet my mom on the number of pork tenderloins in a packet (I thought 1, she thought 2). It was excruciating torture wondering and as the days passed I went from cocky and confident to more and more skeptical of my decision to wager. To put it in perspective the owners of our cabin told us that the ice on the lake had only melted away about 2 weeks before we arrived. That makes for very cold water. Then I was reminded that my mom had opened in the neighborhood of a thousand pork tenderloins in her life. Me? Maybe ten?
Over the days everyone took turns examining the packet, trying to find evidence one way or the other. It became a quite frequent topic of conversation. On our second to last day I woke and found the meat in the sink defrosting. Today would be the day we would find out, but we had to wait until it thawed. They say a watched pot never boils, try watching meat defrost.
Hours later it was finally time. Everyone watched intensely as my mom sliced open the package. The meat slid out and came to rest on the platter. My moms face went blank: there was only one. I couldn’t believe it!! I whooped and hollered!!
Aside from that we spent the rest of our time in canoes, on hiking trails, reading books in the sun, laughing, relaxing, and of course fishing. While I never caught an elusive pike, my dad and I each caught our fair share of trout. One day in particular we fished for about two and a half hours caught in the neighborhood of 25-30 fish. Maybe the best day of fishing in my whole life.
We went in totally blind. Since no one had ever been there we really didn’t know what to expect. The books had told us to expect two things: rain and bugs. Talking to the locals in “town” (a three hour drive mind you) they prepared us with multiple bottles of bug spray and apologized that they had sold out of bug nets for your face. Needless to say we headed out and my moms biggest expectation was that we would sit inside, watch the rain, and play board games.
As it turned out we timed it just right. An unusually long winter had pushed back the arrival of the bugs, and we only saw rain over a few short spurts.
One day we set out to do a small hike. The host at our campground told us she didn’t recommend it, but she was a 60 year old smoker. The guidebooks said it would take 7 hours, but that was for fat Americans. My mom was confident we could do this 7 hour hike in “no more that two and a half hours.” To top it off we had planned to do another hike at sunset. Nearly six hours later we limped back to the car, exhausted, dehydrated, unable to walk any further and just straight pooped. We barely made it through the door, so tired that we didn’t even bother to do the dinner dishes. By that point the idea of another hike was humorous.
There has been one lesson I have learned over my life that really shouldn’t be challenged: my mom doesn’t make bets she isn’t sure she will win. So why I decided to wager a swim in the lake based on mindless fact is beyond me. On an impulse while grocery shopping I bet my mom on the number of pork tenderloins in a packet (I thought 1, she thought 2). It was excruciating torture wondering and as the days passed I went from cocky and confident to more and more skeptical of my decision to wager. To put it in perspective the owners of our cabin told us that the ice on the lake had only melted away about 2 weeks before we arrived. That makes for very cold water. Then I was reminded that my mom had opened in the neighborhood of a thousand pork tenderloins in her life. Me? Maybe ten?
Over the days everyone took turns examining the packet, trying to find evidence one way or the other. It became a quite frequent topic of conversation. On our second to last day I woke and found the meat in the sink defrosting. Today would be the day we would find out, but we had to wait until it thawed. They say a watched pot never boils, try watching meat defrost.
Hours later it was finally time. Everyone watched intensely as my mom sliced open the package. The meat slid out and came to rest on the platter. My moms face went blank: there was only one. I couldn’t believe it!! I whooped and hollered!!
Aside from that we spent the rest of our time in canoes, on hiking trails, reading books in the sun, laughing, relaxing, and of course fishing. While I never caught an elusive pike, my dad and I each caught our fair share of trout. One day in particular we fished for about two and a half hours caught in the neighborhood of 25-30 fish. Maybe the best day of fishing in my whole life.
Oh Canada!
Imagine driving a few hours out of your way to see one of the worlds most recognizable and beautiful natural sites. The excitement builds as you get closer and closer and you begin to anticipate the view, the pictures, everything. You have seen pictures but everyone says the same thing; “Its just so powerful when you can see it in person, its 10 times better.” You arrive, go through the hassle of parking your trailer, and quickly bike to the viewing platform.
Then, out of nowhere, clouds. Thick dense clouds. So thick that you cant see even see 75 yards, or the giant buildings around you, much less the gorgeous spectacle you wouldn’t even believe existed if it weren’t for all the signs, other tourists, and the fact that you can hear it!
This was our experience at Niagra Falls. I really remember thinking at one time that it was possible that we could leave that day having never seen the falls. Luckily the clouds broke enough for us to see the falls and shoot a couple of pictures. We even have some with blue sky background!
I have always thought of Canada somewhat like America - North Campus. So much so that I really didn’t even think twice about crossing the border to view Niagra Falls from the Canadian side. Oops. Big mistake.
First they searched our trailer. Not to bad. Then we remembered (after racking up $20 in fees in the first 3 minutes) that our cell phone plans were probably quite different in Canada and had to turn off our phones. So now we were in a foreign country with no way to call anyone and no maps. Did I remember to get gas in America, where it is over a dollar cheaper a gallon? No. Did I have enough gas to get back to America? No. Did I realize this until I was far away from the border, and with it all of the money exchange places? No. Did I even have a reasonable amount of cash to exchange if the opportunity produced itself? No.
Needless to say what was supposed to be a shortcut through Canada ended up being quite a funny adventure. Thanks to some family coming through in the crunch (shout out to my dad and Bret) we survived. More importantly, we learned! So next time we cross the border we will be much better prepared. Oh Canada!
Then, out of nowhere, clouds. Thick dense clouds. So thick that you cant see even see 75 yards, or the giant buildings around you, much less the gorgeous spectacle you wouldn’t even believe existed if it weren’t for all the signs, other tourists, and the fact that you can hear it!
This was our experience at Niagra Falls. I really remember thinking at one time that it was possible that we could leave that day having never seen the falls. Luckily the clouds broke enough for us to see the falls and shoot a couple of pictures. We even have some with blue sky background!
I have always thought of Canada somewhat like America - North Campus. So much so that I really didn’t even think twice about crossing the border to view Niagra Falls from the Canadian side. Oops. Big mistake.
First they searched our trailer. Not to bad. Then we remembered (after racking up $20 in fees in the first 3 minutes) that our cell phone plans were probably quite different in Canada and had to turn off our phones. So now we were in a foreign country with no way to call anyone and no maps. Did I remember to get gas in America, where it is over a dollar cheaper a gallon? No. Did I have enough gas to get back to America? No. Did I realize this until I was far away from the border, and with it all of the money exchange places? No. Did I even have a reasonable amount of cash to exchange if the opportunity produced itself? No.
Needless to say what was supposed to be a shortcut through Canada ended up being quite a funny adventure. Thanks to some family coming through in the crunch (shout out to my dad and Bret) we survived. More importantly, we learned! So next time we cross the border we will be much better prepared. Oh Canada!
Would You Eat A Garbage Plate?
Cels and I left wine country with 4 days and over a thousand miles ahead of us before greeting my parents at the Duluth airport. Our only planned stop on the way was to visit some old friends outside of Rochester (only about an hours drive). As we rolled into Pittsford I looked over and saw Cels gawking at the town. She said “I never pictured anything like this in New York.” Its like Medford, or Mayberry. I half expected sheriff Andy to walk out of one of the American flag laden houses to wave at me.
We didn’t plan on much time but we ended up spending two full days in and around Rochester. We went to an amateur soccer game, caught up with old friends, and tasted some of the local fare at the Lilac Festival. Now I know what you are thinking, we didn’t know Rochester really had any “local fare” either. But strolling through the festival we noticed a line of at least 50 people at one stand. We inquired a few line patrons what the fuss was all about and all we really learned was that the only thing served at the front of the lines were called “garbage plates.” Seriously. Someone had the terrible job of marketing a food called a garbage plate! But we were in. And 30 minutes later we had our very own garbage plate. Picture if you can a twelve inch plate divided in thirds between baked beans, macaroni salad, and those cubed French fries. Then on top of that was placed your choice of meats (we chose 2 cheeseburger patties, a crowd favorite). Next came a “special sauce” that was half meat sauce half bbq sauce, and then finally smothered in buffalo sauce. HOLY CRAP! I am sure for some it was heart burn on a plate but it was FANTASTIC! I am salivating right now recalling my garbage plate.
I am sure Mrs. Beth would be disappointed if I didn’t recall for all of you the Glee marathon I labored through. But I am happy to report that even in the face of such adversity, I survived.
We didn’t plan on much time but we ended up spending two full days in and around Rochester. We went to an amateur soccer game, caught up with old friends, and tasted some of the local fare at the Lilac Festival. Now I know what you are thinking, we didn’t know Rochester really had any “local fare” either. But strolling through the festival we noticed a line of at least 50 people at one stand. We inquired a few line patrons what the fuss was all about and all we really learned was that the only thing served at the front of the lines were called “garbage plates.” Seriously. Someone had the terrible job of marketing a food called a garbage plate! But we were in. And 30 minutes later we had our very own garbage plate. Picture if you can a twelve inch plate divided in thirds between baked beans, macaroni salad, and those cubed French fries. Then on top of that was placed your choice of meats (we chose 2 cheeseburger patties, a crowd favorite). Next came a “special sauce” that was half meat sauce half bbq sauce, and then finally smothered in buffalo sauce. HOLY CRAP! I am sure for some it was heart burn on a plate but it was FANTASTIC! I am salivating right now recalling my garbage plate.
I am sure Mrs. Beth would be disappointed if I didn’t recall for all of you the Glee marathon I labored through. But I am happy to report that even in the face of such adversity, I survived.
Wine!!!
Seriously, did you know New York had a wine country? Even better did you know that May is Riesling month which means you can buy a $15 passport to over 25 wineries good for all you can sample?!?!? I do now!
Nestled in the Finger Lakes region of New York we finally found sun, and with it came some of our most spectacular hikes yet up Watkins Glen or to see Taughannock Falls, and wine. It was a perfect way to spend our remaining ‘Speculator’ days. We would wake up and go for a morning hike, then hit the wine trial until about five, and close the day with another climb to hike off the wine buzz. I learned about wine and the differences between all sorts of grapes. But even more I learned what a diamond in the rough the Finger Lake region is. Absolutely gorgeous. Geologically it is situated on a giant shale uplift that had been carved by glaciers. This left spectacular stair stepping river beds with water frequently cascading down. Simply stunning.
For that whole week we truly lived in the moment. We did what we wanted as it came to us, and it worked like a charm. We followed our noses.
Nestled in the Finger Lakes region of New York we finally found sun, and with it came some of our most spectacular hikes yet up Watkins Glen or to see Taughannock Falls, and wine. It was a perfect way to spend our remaining ‘Speculator’ days. We would wake up and go for a morning hike, then hit the wine trial until about five, and close the day with another climb to hike off the wine buzz. I learned about wine and the differences between all sorts of grapes. But even more I learned what a diamond in the rough the Finger Lake region is. Absolutely gorgeous. Geologically it is situated on a giant shale uplift that had been carved by glaciers. This left spectacular stair stepping river beds with water frequently cascading down. Simply stunning.
For that whole week we truly lived in the moment. We did what we wanted as it came to us, and it worked like a charm. We followed our noses.
Following Our Noses
The plans for our trip called for us to leave Maine and head straight west to a small town called Speculator in the middle of the Adirondacks to spend our next 7 or so days. However as it were, that’s not at all how our trip transpired. It began with a conversation with a waiter who, upon finding out we were about to drive west with the eventual destination of Rochester, told us we must at least drive through White Mountains on our way. His description and enthusiasm left Cels and I knowing it was a place we couldn’t miss.
So we headed off in search of the towering and majestic view of the White Mountains. However instead of being greeted with crisp blue skies and white-capped peaks, low cloud cover, flood warnings and rain welcomed us. As you can imagine that initially bummed us out, until we started hiking. We couldn’t miss. Every hike we took lead us to bigger, taller and louder water falls. Soon our quick drive through had turned into a two-day waterfall extravaganza.
We got back on the road and again set our sites on Speculator. However, in the Vermont welcome center we realized something: we were only about an hour detour from Ben and Jerry’s. We couldn’t miss an ice cream tour could we? Little did we know the commitment to tours we had made when we decided to head out of our way to get ice cream. Suddenly signs popped up everywhere for different tours. We took a tour of a maple sugar farm and for about 20 minutes pondered the possibility of becoming sugar farmers (well at least I did!). We toured an apple cider farm, a cheese factory, a chocolate annex, and finally Ben and Jerry’s. Before it was done our hour detour for ice cream had turned into a daylong festival of samples.
By now we had used 3 of our 7 days for Speculator and we hadn’t even made it yet, but we didn’t care because our dreams were full of waterfalls and maple sugar. When we finally arrived in Speculator we pulled into town and went straight for the visitor center. As a side note it’s worth mentioning that I chose Speculator without having ever been or knowing someone who had been because it claimed to be year round outdoor adventure. Instead we arrived to find everything closed. No campsites were open. Even the visitor center told us that things really don’t open up around there for another couple of weeks. We were welcome to hike but with the amount of rain they had most of the trails were impassably wet (a fact we then verified on a pair of hikes).
At the time it felt like a giant disappointment. But looking back now, we never would have made our next discovery without it, and our next discovery may well end up being our best discovery of the trip.
So we headed off in search of the towering and majestic view of the White Mountains. However instead of being greeted with crisp blue skies and white-capped peaks, low cloud cover, flood warnings and rain welcomed us. As you can imagine that initially bummed us out, until we started hiking. We couldn’t miss. Every hike we took lead us to bigger, taller and louder water falls. Soon our quick drive through had turned into a two-day waterfall extravaganza.
We got back on the road and again set our sites on Speculator. However, in the Vermont welcome center we realized something: we were only about an hour detour from Ben and Jerry’s. We couldn’t miss an ice cream tour could we? Little did we know the commitment to tours we had made when we decided to head out of our way to get ice cream. Suddenly signs popped up everywhere for different tours. We took a tour of a maple sugar farm and for about 20 minutes pondered the possibility of becoming sugar farmers (well at least I did!). We toured an apple cider farm, a cheese factory, a chocolate annex, and finally Ben and Jerry’s. Before it was done our hour detour for ice cream had turned into a daylong festival of samples.
By now we had used 3 of our 7 days for Speculator and we hadn’t even made it yet, but we didn’t care because our dreams were full of waterfalls and maple sugar. When we finally arrived in Speculator we pulled into town and went straight for the visitor center. As a side note it’s worth mentioning that I chose Speculator without having ever been or knowing someone who had been because it claimed to be year round outdoor adventure. Instead we arrived to find everything closed. No campsites were open. Even the visitor center told us that things really don’t open up around there for another couple of weeks. We were welcome to hike but with the amount of rain they had most of the trails were impassably wet (a fact we then verified on a pair of hikes).
At the time it felt like a giant disappointment. But looking back now, we never would have made our next discovery without it, and our next discovery may well end up being our best discovery of the trip.
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