August 20
My grandfather has just died. I'm sitting in a hospital in Buffalo, Wyoming (I would find the irony here funny considering my previous post, but I'm not in the proper mood right now), where I am typing this, preparing to go meet a man who will help me finish the paper work I need to do before I go back home. The hospital staff has been very nice and accommodating, but I've got nothing else to do right now but sit and write.
We were driving west on I-90 when he started taking notable breaths, and had trouble speaking. It took me a few minutes to realise what was happening because I was dozing in the passenger seat. I told him to pull over, and I started driving. He was moving and walking fine, but he had trouble putting together more than 2 words. We both knew it was another stroke (he had one almost 6 months ago), but it didn't seem to be as severe. He was alert, and kept trying to tell me not to speed (I had the accelerator pedal pressed to the floor), that he was ok. I wasn't going to take any chances, and couldn't care less if a cop pulled me over.
A little over 15 miles from town he started to have a seizure. This is when I really started to freak. He made a low moaning noise, and his arms started to spasm. I took a pen out of his hand, and tried to get him to lay back in the seat, but figured he would be fine because he wasn't throwing himself around and he had his seat belt on. I also noticed blood coming out of his left forearm, where his veins were large and red. He settled down and stopped moving after a minute (which only scared me more). Finally, 10 miles outside of Buffalo, I got some cellphone reception and stopped long enough to complete a 911 call. It took a couple minutes of getting transferred and explaining before they told me to watch for an ambulance, which I ended up meeting just past exit 58, going into town. Looking back on it, he might have been dead before I even got him to the ambulance, but I don't think they started CPR until they got to the hospital, so I just don't know.
I followed the ambulance (they had picked him up at the intersection) to the local hospital, where I only had time to give his personal information and make a phone call to my grandmother (his wife) before they told me he was gone. After that it was a lot of talking to people (and calling my grandmother back).
I'm not feeling as bad as I thought I would. For years growing up I dreaded the idea of losing one of my 3 parents that I live with (Grandfather, Grandmother, and Mother). They have all helped raise me, and have always been there. Now that it's happened, it's like the anticipation was worse. Maybe it hasn't really hit me yet. But I think that mostly has to do with the conversation Gpa and I had less than a week ago.
This trip has been an opportunity for me to get to know my grandfather again. After his stroke I knew he was facing a lot of difficulties with loss of vision and memory, and a generally deteriorating physical condition. Like many older men, he was frustrated by his loss of power and control over his own life, so I wanted have this trip to prove to him that he could still have fun. I realised after we left that I hadn't planned a trip with lots of places to see, and didn't really know what I was doing. However, just getting out and traveling again was what Gpa enjoyed the most.
We've talked about a lot of things on the trip, stuff I don't write about because it doesn't matter or it's personal. Things about my future, and stories from his past. I got to see how and why he was unhappy, and why my mother and grandmother were worried about him. Eventually, we came to the topic of his eventual death. He has said for years that his life was complete and he wasn't afraid to die, despite our whole family being atheists and not believing in an afterlife. We talked again about this a few days ago, and he said he didn't expect to live more than a couple more years, but he was ok with that. So when he died a few hours ago, I knew it was ok. I'm still crying every 5 minutes, but I probably will be for a few days. The man was my father figure, mainly because I've grown up without one.
I don't care who does or doesn't read this, but I have to say a few things about my grandfather. He was probably the most amazing man I've ever met. He spent 17 years in the air force, got a doctorate in education, taught in at least half a dozen different schools (including one on a cruise ship), got married and had a daughter at the age of 21, recently celebrated his 80th birthday and 60th wedding anniversary, and traveled/sailed the world for over 10 years with his wife, visiting each state at least 7 times, and hundreds of countries. He's done countless other amazing things that I don't have the time or energy to name right now. Most of all, he spent the last 20 years of his life helping my mother raise me. I would not be half of who I am now if my grandmother and grandfather hadn't been there the whole time, allowing my mother to work full time to earn a comfortable living, and being such a shaping force in my education. He, my grandmother, and my mother have always been willing to do anything they needed to help me, especially in the past couple years, when my future and education have become unclear and frustrating. I swear to him right now, like I did less than a week ago, I will finish my BA and make something of my life.
Right now, I just want to get home more than anything. No small task from Wyoming to Washington, it will be the largest distance I've ever driven on my own, when I stop and think about it. I'm not worried about that, though.
-King of the Road
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
I now HATE Rand Mcnally and their maps
August 14-19
Trying to enjoy Chicago is a lot harder when you have to navigate the hellish streets and dozen or so freeways that cover everything for at least a 20 mile radius. Add to this the construction that is EVERYWHERE in Illinois, Rand Mcnally's complete lack of details (even when they zoom in on a city), and me getting less than 8 hours of sleep the night before, and you have a very frustrated, rage-filled driver. The City and lake were very beautiful, but when the Planetarium/Aquarium/Museum wanted 15$ just to park (with no idea how much more admission was for each), Gpa and I gave up and left. I take back what I said about Madison, it was a cakewalk compared to Chicago. The worst part was trying to get out.
We continued West into the bottom tip of Iowa, and through the top of Missouri, which makes a total of 7 new states I have never been to before. When we crossed back into Iowa on our way north, we spotted an Amish settlement, right on the highway. They looked just like you see them in the movies, with traditional clothing, big beards, and carriges. I've always been curious to talk with some, but I figured it would be rude to just pull over on the side of the road and start asking questions.
Straight north through Iowa put us back into Missouri, where we hit I-90 which we plan to take all the way to Washington. Today we went through Mt. Rushmore, but not before stopping at the "Reptile Gardens", which turned out to have quite a few very nice exhibits and shows. Rushmore itself was nice, but half the tourist at any given time insist on stopping and taking photos in the middle of the walkway, instead of waiting to get up to the viewing area. I shouldn't criticize, I'm extremely shutter-happy when I have a camera in my hands. However, the 20$ digital camera we got at Walmart is a piece of absolute shit that didn't come with the software necessary for it to work properly. I spent over 2 hours online trying to find the driver or software, but still nothing. So, we are without a camera, much to the dismay of my mother.
Getting out of Rushmore and headed west again proved to be another fiasco. This time, I know for a FACT it wasn't me missing something, Rand Mcnally really did fuck up the map in this area. After I was done frothing at the mouth and we were away from the giant tourist trap that surrounds Rushmore, we took highway 16 west into Wyoming, which is were we'll be spending the night. Next is Montana, Idaho, and then back to Washington. Just 3 states to go!
Lesson of the Day: Cheese becomes a liquid-plasma substance when not refrigerated. Many/Most motels do not have a mini fridge. Trying to bring cheese back from Wisconsin is a risky prospect.
-Kings of the Road
Trying to enjoy Chicago is a lot harder when you have to navigate the hellish streets and dozen or so freeways that cover everything for at least a 20 mile radius. Add to this the construction that is EVERYWHERE in Illinois, Rand Mcnally's complete lack of details (even when they zoom in on a city), and me getting less than 8 hours of sleep the night before, and you have a very frustrated, rage-filled driver. The City and lake were very beautiful, but when the Planetarium/Aquarium/Museum wanted 15$ just to park (with no idea how much more admission was for each), Gpa and I gave up and left. I take back what I said about Madison, it was a cakewalk compared to Chicago. The worst part was trying to get out.
We continued West into the bottom tip of Iowa, and through the top of Missouri, which makes a total of 7 new states I have never been to before. When we crossed back into Iowa on our way north, we spotted an Amish settlement, right on the highway. They looked just like you see them in the movies, with traditional clothing, big beards, and carriges. I've always been curious to talk with some, but I figured it would be rude to just pull over on the side of the road and start asking questions.
Straight north through Iowa put us back into Missouri, where we hit I-90 which we plan to take all the way to Washington. Today we went through Mt. Rushmore, but not before stopping at the "Reptile Gardens", which turned out to have quite a few very nice exhibits and shows. Rushmore itself was nice, but half the tourist at any given time insist on stopping and taking photos in the middle of the walkway, instead of waiting to get up to the viewing area. I shouldn't criticize, I'm extremely shutter-happy when I have a camera in my hands. However, the 20$ digital camera we got at Walmart is a piece of absolute shit that didn't come with the software necessary for it to work properly. I spent over 2 hours online trying to find the driver or software, but still nothing. So, we are without a camera, much to the dismay of my mother.
Getting out of Rushmore and headed west again proved to be another fiasco. This time, I know for a FACT it wasn't me missing something, Rand Mcnally really did fuck up the map in this area. After I was done frothing at the mouth and we were away from the giant tourist trap that surrounds Rushmore, we took highway 16 west into Wyoming, which is were we'll be spending the night. Next is Montana, Idaho, and then back to Washington. Just 3 states to go!
Lesson of the Day: Cheese becomes a liquid-plasma substance when not refrigerated. Many/Most motels do not have a mini fridge. Trying to bring cheese back from Wisconsin is a risky prospect.
-Kings of the Road
Friday, August 15, 2008
Welcome to Illinois! Now give us a dollar
August 13, 2008
When we crossed the line from southern Wisconsin into Illinois, we immediately met with two things: Lots of road construction, and a $1 tool both. On the interstate. I find something about this innapropriate, but I may just be naive. We learned our lessons very quickly when I decided to check an exit to see if it had any motels, and got charged again for getting back on the interstate (only 60 cents this time, not accepting any bills).
The interstates are just that: the backbone of roads that travel across the entire country from state to state. It seems to me that Illinois is taking advantage of that. Maybe it's fair because they have more freeways going in and out of their state, all centered around Chicago, and they need more money to keep up the roads that perhaps get more traffic from out of state. I don't know. Still, it's not a nice way to be greeted. It doesn't exactly encourage you to move around and explore the state (as so many tourism industries would love you to do).
Despite annoying tolls, the real frustration today wasn't in Illinois. Over 3 hours of our time today was devoted to simply tracking down a place to buy cheese. I place all blame on Kevin for mentioning a place called "Brennon's", which was supposed to have "the best cheese and sausage in the state". In case you've never been there, Madison is not only the capital of Wisconsin, but it's own local labyrinth. The capital building and all of downtown is squeezed between two lakes, which might be alright except all but one of the streets are not parallel to the diagonal strip of land drawn by the edge of the water. Why? Because it makes a pretty square pattern around the capital building, which I might add is in the exact middle of everything, making a nice road block to add difficultly to the already frustrating one way streets. I figured I would just sorta head downtown, and look around for the Brennon's that google maps said there was. According to one local, there wasn't a Brennon's in this part of town. Regardless, we ended up going 5-6 miles through more Madison streets, these ones plagued by turn lanes and forks that made no sense. This location, we were assured, actually existed.
Well, we were about to give up when I saw the yellow lettering I recognized from pictures I had seen online. When we walked inside, I was eagerly anticipating some kind of holy land of cheese, but I realised quickly that if it indeed was, it would be pearls before swine. Gpa and I aren't cheese afficienados, so we wouldn't have any appreciation for what we were tasting. We got ourselves a guide, and ended up buying some of the "World Champion Cheese". They had cheddar aged 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 9 years. We bought some cheddar and a kind of "butter" cheese we really liked the sample of. One sign in front of the champion cheese read "2004 Cheese gold medals: Wisconsin 18, California 0. Whose cows are happy now?" Over 3 hours and many frantic turns later, we had our cheese.
Tomorrow we head into Chicago for a full day of sightseeing. We're trying to figure out a way to keep cool the cheese we didn't open, which we plan on bringing home. I suppose the mini fridges found in about half the motels around here will have to do.
-Kings of the Road
When we crossed the line from southern Wisconsin into Illinois, we immediately met with two things: Lots of road construction, and a $1 tool both. On the interstate. I find something about this innapropriate, but I may just be naive. We learned our lessons very quickly when I decided to check an exit to see if it had any motels, and got charged again for getting back on the interstate (only 60 cents this time, not accepting any bills).
The interstates are just that: the backbone of roads that travel across the entire country from state to state. It seems to me that Illinois is taking advantage of that. Maybe it's fair because they have more freeways going in and out of their state, all centered around Chicago, and they need more money to keep up the roads that perhaps get more traffic from out of state. I don't know. Still, it's not a nice way to be greeted. It doesn't exactly encourage you to move around and explore the state (as so many tourism industries would love you to do).
Despite annoying tolls, the real frustration today wasn't in Illinois. Over 3 hours of our time today was devoted to simply tracking down a place to buy cheese. I place all blame on Kevin for mentioning a place called "Brennon's", which was supposed to have "the best cheese and sausage in the state". In case you've never been there, Madison is not only the capital of Wisconsin, but it's own local labyrinth. The capital building and all of downtown is squeezed between two lakes, which might be alright except all but one of the streets are not parallel to the diagonal strip of land drawn by the edge of the water. Why? Because it makes a pretty square pattern around the capital building, which I might add is in the exact middle of everything, making a nice road block to add difficultly to the already frustrating one way streets. I figured I would just sorta head downtown, and look around for the Brennon's that google maps said there was. According to one local, there wasn't a Brennon's in this part of town. Regardless, we ended up going 5-6 miles through more Madison streets, these ones plagued by turn lanes and forks that made no sense. This location, we were assured, actually existed.
Well, we were about to give up when I saw the yellow lettering I recognized from pictures I had seen online. When we walked inside, I was eagerly anticipating some kind of holy land of cheese, but I realised quickly that if it indeed was, it would be pearls before swine. Gpa and I aren't cheese afficienados, so we wouldn't have any appreciation for what we were tasting. We got ourselves a guide, and ended up buying some of the "World Champion Cheese". They had cheddar aged 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 9 years. We bought some cheddar and a kind of "butter" cheese we really liked the sample of. One sign in front of the champion cheese read "2004 Cheese gold medals: Wisconsin 18, California 0. Whose cows are happy now?" Over 3 hours and many frantic turns later, we had our cheese.
Tomorrow we head into Chicago for a full day of sightseeing. We're trying to figure out a way to keep cool the cheese we didn't open, which we plan on bringing home. I suppose the mini fridges found in about half the motels around here will have to do.
-Kings of the Road
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
So much for updating daily
August 7-12, 2008
Well, anyone who knows me at all knows that my greatest sin is sloth, and it shouldn't come as a surprise that it's taken me 5 days to get to my next entry. There is startling little between Seattle and Chicago, so it won't be hard to sum up the things we've seen so far.
On the 7th we easily moved from eastern Washington well into Montana without even pulling off the road anywhere in Idaho. We stayed the night in Missoula.
I'm going to stop at this point, and ask you, the reader, a serious question. Have you ever eaten anything with the name "Buffalo" attached to it? (Things like Buffalo chicken wings) Did you enjoy it? If you did, are you mentally unstable? Because deciding to try the "Buffalo Snacker" at KFC cost me a perfectly good sandwich, which was NOT EVEN SALVAGABLE BY KETCHUP. This "Buffalo" sauce that is sometimes applied to chicken products is a sin against the delicious meat it covers. I once tried the "Buffalo Nuggets" at the WWU meal hall, and figured they were the product of a terrible mistake in the kitchen. Never again will I order anything with the word "Buffalo" attached to it, even if I suspect it might be in reference to something else. Buffalo sauce tastes like they dipped the meat in vinegar, and let it soak for at least a day. The flavor is impossible to ignore, and can't be covered up (trust me, I tried). I can only hope that my experience will serve to warn some unsuspecting person away from ever wasting their money on this vile version of fried chicken. My Public Service Announcement is done, now back to the road trip.
From Missoula we traveled north, to go see Glacier National Park, which is right next to the Canadian border. Gpa and I were a little saddened to see an unbelievable amount of gift shops all crammed into the southern end of the park. Once we got out and away on the road through the mountains, everything was scenic again. I only wish I had known it would take us 3-4 hours to drive through what was such a small section of highway on the map. Silly me, forgetting those winding mountain roads thousands of feet up.
We stopped that night where highway 2 (the one that went through the national park) intersects with I-15. The next morning Gpa suggested that in light of the 95 degree temperature, we wimp out and spend the day at one of the motels that would undoubtedly be at the Air Base in Great Falls. We did just that. It was the best motel we've been in so far, and had the lowest price (about 30$).
From there, we shot across the rest of Montana to Glendive, and from there to Jamestown the next day. Today we went from Jamestown to just east of Minneapolis, moving all the way through Minnesota, but not before running into trouble.
We had just finished spending an hour touring the "Mall of America", the biggest mall in the nation (which is sadly little more than an over sized version of any mediocre shopping center). I felt the engine kick, and realised too late that we had forgotten to stop for gas in Minneapolis, which was now at least 30 miles behind us. We were far enough away that there weren't any gas stations or even freeway exits in sight, so I just let the car coast to a stop on the side of the road. The only thing we could see was an overpass just in front of us, so I got out and starting climbing up the slope. By now it was 7:30pm, and starting to get dark. I got to the top, and much to my dismay there was a barbed wire fence blocking me from the road. It took me a few minutes to very carefully climb over this feeble 3-4 foot fence, realising that I hadn't really climbed anything in a while, and it gets tougher when you're 6 feet tall and 275 pounds.
I finally got to the road to look both ways and...nothing. For miles. To my right was literally miles of country road with nothing in sight, and to my left, barely discernible, were a couple farm houses probably a quarter mile down the road, covered in trees. The first house had an old lady in it whose expression gave me the impression she didn't really understand my situation, or was paranoid of overweight young men in shorts and sandals. She told me to try the house across the street, which turned out to be empty. Luckily from this point in the road I could make out a third house another quarter mile away, again hard to spot through trees and rolling hills. There I found a man kind enough to give me a ride to the nearest gas station and on to my car. As irony would have it, he had just gotten back 5 minutes ago from a 400 mile trip to Michigan. I spent a good deal of time repeating apologies and thanking him until my conscious was clear.
All told, when I got back to the car and put 3 gallons in the tank from the gas can the very nice man had let me borrow, only an hour had passed. We tried to give him some money for his time, but he wouldn't take any (I had payed for the gas at the station with the money I had on me), and told us to instead help the next person who needed it. I guess "Pay It Forward" is more than just a good movie with Kevin Spacey (if you haven't seen it, I'd recommend finding/renting it).
So now we're sitting in a Super Motel 8 in Wisconsin about an hour outside of Minneapolis. It's almost midnight, and I better get to sleep right away if I want to get 8 hours, because Gpa keeps waking me up at 8am. This wouldn't be so bad if we didn't keep changing time zones and losing an hour. I eagerly await gaining them back on the return trip, and sleeping in like the lazy slothful person we all know I am.
-Kings of the Road
Well, anyone who knows me at all knows that my greatest sin is sloth, and it shouldn't come as a surprise that it's taken me 5 days to get to my next entry. There is startling little between Seattle and Chicago, so it won't be hard to sum up the things we've seen so far.
On the 7th we easily moved from eastern Washington well into Montana without even pulling off the road anywhere in Idaho. We stayed the night in Missoula.
I'm going to stop at this point, and ask you, the reader, a serious question. Have you ever eaten anything with the name "Buffalo" attached to it? (Things like Buffalo chicken wings) Did you enjoy it? If you did, are you mentally unstable? Because deciding to try the "Buffalo Snacker" at KFC cost me a perfectly good sandwich, which was NOT EVEN SALVAGABLE BY KETCHUP. This "Buffalo" sauce that is sometimes applied to chicken products is a sin against the delicious meat it covers. I once tried the "Buffalo Nuggets" at the WWU meal hall, and figured they were the product of a terrible mistake in the kitchen. Never again will I order anything with the word "Buffalo" attached to it, even if I suspect it might be in reference to something else. Buffalo sauce tastes like they dipped the meat in vinegar, and let it soak for at least a day. The flavor is impossible to ignore, and can't be covered up (trust me, I tried). I can only hope that my experience will serve to warn some unsuspecting person away from ever wasting their money on this vile version of fried chicken. My Public Service Announcement is done, now back to the road trip.
From Missoula we traveled north, to go see Glacier National Park, which is right next to the Canadian border. Gpa and I were a little saddened to see an unbelievable amount of gift shops all crammed into the southern end of the park. Once we got out and away on the road through the mountains, everything was scenic again. I only wish I had known it would take us 3-4 hours to drive through what was such a small section of highway on the map. Silly me, forgetting those winding mountain roads thousands of feet up.
We stopped that night where highway 2 (the one that went through the national park) intersects with I-15. The next morning Gpa suggested that in light of the 95 degree temperature, we wimp out and spend the day at one of the motels that would undoubtedly be at the Air Base in Great Falls. We did just that. It was the best motel we've been in so far, and had the lowest price (about 30$).
From there, we shot across the rest of Montana to Glendive, and from there to Jamestown the next day. Today we went from Jamestown to just east of Minneapolis, moving all the way through Minnesota, but not before running into trouble.
We had just finished spending an hour touring the "Mall of America", the biggest mall in the nation (which is sadly little more than an over sized version of any mediocre shopping center). I felt the engine kick, and realised too late that we had forgotten to stop for gas in Minneapolis, which was now at least 30 miles behind us. We were far enough away that there weren't any gas stations or even freeway exits in sight, so I just let the car coast to a stop on the side of the road. The only thing we could see was an overpass just in front of us, so I got out and starting climbing up the slope. By now it was 7:30pm, and starting to get dark. I got to the top, and much to my dismay there was a barbed wire fence blocking me from the road. It took me a few minutes to very carefully climb over this feeble 3-4 foot fence, realising that I hadn't really climbed anything in a while, and it gets tougher when you're 6 feet tall and 275 pounds.
I finally got to the road to look both ways and...nothing. For miles. To my right was literally miles of country road with nothing in sight, and to my left, barely discernible, were a couple farm houses probably a quarter mile down the road, covered in trees. The first house had an old lady in it whose expression gave me the impression she didn't really understand my situation, or was paranoid of overweight young men in shorts and sandals. She told me to try the house across the street, which turned out to be empty. Luckily from this point in the road I could make out a third house another quarter mile away, again hard to spot through trees and rolling hills. There I found a man kind enough to give me a ride to the nearest gas station and on to my car. As irony would have it, he had just gotten back 5 minutes ago from a 400 mile trip to Michigan. I spent a good deal of time repeating apologies and thanking him until my conscious was clear.
All told, when I got back to the car and put 3 gallons in the tank from the gas can the very nice man had let me borrow, only an hour had passed. We tried to give him some money for his time, but he wouldn't take any (I had payed for the gas at the station with the money I had on me), and told us to instead help the next person who needed it. I guess "Pay It Forward" is more than just a good movie with Kevin Spacey (if you haven't seen it, I'd recommend finding/renting it).
So now we're sitting in a Super Motel 8 in Wisconsin about an hour outside of Minneapolis. It's almost midnight, and I better get to sleep right away if I want to get 8 hours, because Gpa keeps waking me up at 8am. This wouldn't be so bad if we didn't keep changing time zones and losing an hour. I eagerly await gaining them back on the return trip, and sleeping in like the lazy slothful person we all know I am.
-Kings of the Road
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
We're ready to go, it's Wednesday morning, and...Bobby's still asleep.
August 6, 2008
So much for an early start. I shouldn't have stayed up till 3:30 last night, but these things happen. The person writing this blog is Bobby King, about to set off on "The Last American Road Trip" with my grandfather, Bob King. I named the blog what it is because of gas prices; I don't think people are going to continue crossing the US in vehicles that get 30 miles per gallon or less, at least not ones that use fossil fuels. So this blog Is dedicated to the sacred tradition that was the American Road Trip.
I am writing this blog because my mother requested I keep a journal. So, being the technosavvy, computer-obsessed person I am, I figured I'd write a blog. While I am against the self-obsessed social circles that make up the blogosphere, I am legitimately writing about an event in particular, so I hope to not come across as being so egotistical about my own life that others obviously want to read about it. That said, I'll probably end up that way regardless, because I'm an egotistical person, especially when it comes to writing. Don't say I didn't warn you.
As for the first day of the trip, I don't think I've ever driven that much in one day. We left Blaine WA (that tiny town north of Bellingham, right next to the border on the coast) at about 12:30, and stopped for dinner at about 6pm at a place called "20 East Pizza" just outside of Winthrop (a nice tourist town, where all of the buildings look like they belong in a Western). We figured we would stop at the next motel with vacancy that didn't cost more than 50$. Big mistake.
The closer we got to the Grand Coulee Dam area, the more expensive and packed the motels became. There was one that had 2 rooms available, but wanted 90$. We passed that up just east of Winthrop, and ended up all the way to the Dam before we had to stop for gas. By now it was about 8:30pm, and Grandpa (Henceforth referred to as 'Gpa') and I were discussing our options. The attendant said that this year was the Coulee Dam's 75th anniversary, and that every motel for 5 towns over was booked for a week and a half. Crap.
Well, as luck would have it, he was wrong, and about 9:45, after driving through terrain I can only describe as "middle-of-nowhere-land", we spotted a couple more motels in some town that actually had vacancy. What's more, they have free wireless, and cost 50$ a night. This is where I'm writing from right now, and it's almost 11pm.
Tomorrow I expect to get through Idaho and knee-deep into Montana, but we'll see where we end up. Don't pay attention to the date listed on Blogger about when updates are posted, I may have to write some in advance and save them for later.
Lesson of the day: Tomorrow, we plan the motel ahead, although I don't know how.
-Kings of the Road.
So much for an early start. I shouldn't have stayed up till 3:30 last night, but these things happen. The person writing this blog is Bobby King, about to set off on "The Last American Road Trip" with my grandfather, Bob King. I named the blog what it is because of gas prices; I don't think people are going to continue crossing the US in vehicles that get 30 miles per gallon or less, at least not ones that use fossil fuels. So this blog Is dedicated to the sacred tradition that was the American Road Trip.
I am writing this blog because my mother requested I keep a journal. So, being the technosavvy, computer-obsessed person I am, I figured I'd write a blog. While I am against the self-obsessed social circles that make up the blogosphere, I am legitimately writing about an event in particular, so I hope to not come across as being so egotistical about my own life that others obviously want to read about it. That said, I'll probably end up that way regardless, because I'm an egotistical person, especially when it comes to writing. Don't say I didn't warn you.
As for the first day of the trip, I don't think I've ever driven that much in one day. We left Blaine WA (that tiny town north of Bellingham, right next to the border on the coast) at about 12:30, and stopped for dinner at about 6pm at a place called "20 East Pizza" just outside of Winthrop (a nice tourist town, where all of the buildings look like they belong in a Western). We figured we would stop at the next motel with vacancy that didn't cost more than 50$. Big mistake.
The closer we got to the Grand Coulee Dam area, the more expensive and packed the motels became. There was one that had 2 rooms available, but wanted 90$. We passed that up just east of Winthrop, and ended up all the way to the Dam before we had to stop for gas. By now it was about 8:30pm, and Grandpa (Henceforth referred to as 'Gpa') and I were discussing our options. The attendant said that this year was the Coulee Dam's 75th anniversary, and that every motel for 5 towns over was booked for a week and a half. Crap.
Well, as luck would have it, he was wrong, and about 9:45, after driving through terrain I can only describe as "middle-of-nowhere-land", we spotted a couple more motels in some town that actually had vacancy. What's more, they have free wireless, and cost 50$ a night. This is where I'm writing from right now, and it's almost 11pm.
Tomorrow I expect to get through Idaho and knee-deep into Montana, but we'll see where we end up. Don't pay attention to the date listed on Blogger about when updates are posted, I may have to write some in advance and save them for later.
Lesson of the day: Tomorrow, we plan the motel ahead, although I don't know how.
-Kings of the Road.
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