The trip home and other interesting facts

Saturday July 11, 2015

We awoke at 4:22 AM.  I don't think I even needed to set my alarm.  I know it was 4:22 because Jon has a cool 'projection clock' the beams the numbers to the ceiling.  I thought it was wild as I woke up, to see the time on the ceiling, instead of on the clock, glowing in my face.  I need to get one.  Sheba likes to make fun of Jon's toys, but this was useful and a life enhancer!  Of course, after I saw the time on the ceiling, I laid awake trying to figure where the clock was so I wasn't able to fall back asleep anyway.

We were able to be on the road by 4:42 AM as we packed the car the night before.  It was easily the longest ride of the trip, clocking in at a little over 15 hours in the car.  By  the time I got to Birmingham, I kept the throttle at 83 mph, even a little bit on the back roads and rural roads close to home.  I really wanted to get home by this point.  Luckily, not too many cops were lurking and we got in what I like to call a good 'pocket of traffic' to get home by 7:15PM. The ride was nice, as I think Avery and GT slept about 10 hours!  I'm sure they were both tired from yesterdays events but Jen and I did not mind!  The day went by quickly, and by the time we arrived, I was pretty tired but fought it until we went to bed at 10PM.

Some chronological facts I picked up along the way.

• A 2.4L 4 cylinder engine in a smaller SUV is not mpg friendly when loaded down.
• Rooftop cargo bags act as a sail, and not a good one.
• Minivans with strong V6 engines are dreamy.
• It's relatively hard to find a hotel room in Kentucky on a weekend between Bowling Green and Mammoth cave.  If you do, it'll be expensive, even in shoddy motels
• Kids like to jump on motel beds
• You need multiple days in National parks, especially when you notice the bike trails
• Mammoth Cave has been discovered very little by humans.  It goes on for hundreds of miles
• Mammoth Cave is quite creepy when the lights go out, but it's a quiet like you've never heard.
• As evidenced by "stop it" every three miles, Avery does not like to be pointed at for multiple minutes, especially by her younger brother.
• Kentucky has hills.
• Kentucky has diary farms, but they don't open until too late.
• The basilica of Notre Dame is an incredible sight to behold, but the campus can be a little hard to enter. 
• Indiana has "campground dogs"
• Lake Michigan has riptide warnings, and Green, Yellow, and Red flags like we do.  "no salt, no sharks, no worries" is their slogan  but I kept thinking for us it's "no winter"--they can keep their 'typical Michigan Winters"
• Lake Michigan has large rocks in some of it's waters and it's hard to hit a buoy with said rocks.
• "mom-shart" has become a famous word in Lutz Mad-libs lore. 
• Garretts laugh after using "mom-shart" in Madlibs can be infectious, even at 11pm.
• Avery likes to write about the macabre as far as subject matter goes
• Guards do NOT ask if you have colored tobacco.  If they ask where are you from, don't answer 'hows it going?' you'll be the butt of jokes for a week or longer. 
• Mackinac Island is.  It just is.
• Michigan was my favorite bike state. No other state even comes close, but I'll try them all if I can.
• Tall bridges can bring on anxiety, unbeknownst to one until actually driving on top of a tall bridge.  Thanks Mackinac Bridge and Sault Ste Marie International Bridges.  
• It can get knit-cap requiring cold in Michigan. In the middle of summer.  
• Lighthouses and waterfalls make for cool pics
• I love my Founders brewery knit cap
• We transported about 30 different varieties of spider to Canada from our tent bag.  Hope that was allowed. I'd ask the border patrol guard but....
• Hell, we love breweries--even kiddos because they know they're getting cokes.
• Instant campfire coffee is the absolute best coffee in 49 degree weather
• Northport coffee shop coffee is absolute best coffee w/scones in 50 degree weather
• Transverse Bay Cherry Pie company has the best cherry pie. Period. Oh yeah. it was 53 degrees
• Thrift stores come in handy.
• You meet neat people in laundromats--no seriously, you do-and you get your clothes washed.
• I have become an expert in changing clothes in Laundromat restrooms
• Flannels are still cool, especially ones with snaps.
• I can wear a cool plaid shirt that I paid 3 bucks for with long sleeves, for three straight days. 
• Canada is warmer than Michigan. 
• We have come to like Minnesota and northern Michigan accents
• Mosquitoes in Canada might just carry your child away.
• You cannot pick up grounded wood in Canada. It's illegal. 
• Fallen Canadian wood might burn better than Yangtze river wood, but I have no way to verify--or do I? 
• Canada water is COLD to swim in, but delicious in a glass.
• Canada beer sucks. How can they screw that up? YOUR IPA is NOT IPA, my northern friends.
• Niagara businesses steer you away from what you went there for.  Falls viewing.
• You'll lose money in Canada, a lot of it, if you don't exchange your currency. Sometimes you'll even lose your camera
• The highways in Canada are basically litter-free.
• The streets on the Ontario side of the falls are not litter-free.
• International roaming fees for cellphones can be very expensive.  ATT still sucks. 
• Canada hikes are amazing.  
• Some Canadian towns are 'sketchy' but we will no longer talk about that in public Canadian parking lots. 
• Pickerel is a Canadian staple, especially with chips--errr, fries.
• I love malt vinegar. Avery does not.
• Avery likes Canadian Fruit Loops and 2% milk. Avery does not like Pickerel and chips.
• Canadian public libraries are AWESOME, especially the ones that have wi-fi and 7-9 PM hours on Friday nights!
• Eat your Canadian fruit before coming back to the states.  You'll have plenty of time, at least 45 minutes as you wait in line on the Rainbow Bridge, but get rid of all colored tobacco.
• I pick the long wait line out of 15 lines to get back into the states. 
• Anchor bar in Buffalo, NY was very cool, but bbq 'kid wings' are also spicy. Avery still likes fruit loops.
• Genny Cream Ale is better than Molson. At 15 bucks a 30 pack, it'd be a staple in our house if we lived in PA.
• Basement bars are the COOLEST, whether they are in cousin's homes or from 1776.
• Detours on car rides can be incredible stops. Especially when you make a command decision on the cuff to visit a glass museum.
• This detour would have been made better if we'd added another 20 miles to the Seneca Valley Wineries, and Watkins Glen but we didn't. 
• GT is still scared by ghost stories. 
• GT finds solace by unknowingly stroking Avery's hair when they share a tent or bed.
• Avery's teeth grinding sounds like someone crunching a plastic bottle. And it goes on for 15 minutes at a time.
• Prepare to pay money for good New York finger lakes region wines
• Be sure to leave schedules open on certain days, in case change is needed and car rides aren't wanted on certain days late in the trip.
• I-99 is the best scenic interstate in the U.S.
• Google maps likes to take you on roller coaster rides, but I really loathe that bitch's voice when it feels like we're going in circles.
• Google maps is usually right, I on the other hand am not.
• NY and PA have HUGE windmills and wind farms. Noticeable by passing them 5-10 times utilizing Google maps.
• Big dogs and golf carts are AWESOME
• My family is AWESOME, as are those AWESOME FRIENDS that put us up when we stayed. 
• Short people are WAY AWESOME.
• GT likes a 4 year old's naming convention of "red boy". That kind of 'racism' can be funny.
• We all LOVE SUBS and Middleswarth chips.
• I wish we had more lightning bugs down south.  Most kids here probably got Dave's memo on war paint, though.
• Bikes still rule, especially on country roads and 12% grades when a few climbs are all you need to wake up--kinda nixes the need for coffee but, i'm an addict.
• 4000 miles. 72+ hours in a car. 11 states. 2 countries. My family.  I hope this is remembered forever by all of us.  That is the reason I created this blog.

A quick shout and major THANKS to everyone who helped us by lodging or feeding us during this trip.  It was EPIC.

Now, as a bonus, I'm going to leave you with an OLDER tale, one Jen didn't want me to include because this is a family blog but I figured it would fit with our travels.  It's before kids, and impossible to make up.  These memories must live on. 

Wellsboro and the Pennsylvania Grand Canyon re-visited

I remember this place.  I remember everything about this place.  The beautiful PA Grand canyon, with is billion steps to the river that gorged the rock over a kajillion years.  But that’s not how I remember this beautiful little town, situated at the north end of the Pine Creek Rail trail.  I have a rather interesting connection with this place from the past.

It was 1995 (or sometime in the mid 90’s I can’t really recollect) and Jen and I were in Williamsport for our fall vacation and to watch a good friend of mine get married. I was a pinnacle of health back then—pack a day smoker; drinker, bar hopper, weighed all of about 140 lbs soaking wet, etc.  But physically, I was in good shape.  Hardly ever got sick, still could run, wrestle, had plenty of energy—ya know, a perfect example of youth.  I didn’t know our family motto was in place before our kids were born, but it was.

Now you have to remember in 1995 there were no cell phones, a very limited Internet with NO WI-FI (how did people exist) and a limited knowledge of the area I grew up in because when I lived there, I never drove anywhere. 

We used to always stay with my grandfather, Merrill every time we went on trips to PA.  Merrill was awesome, funny, stern, just a mover and shaker—always doing something after his retirement as an engineer from the railroad over multiple decades.  This year was no different. He told me that he was taking his lady friend to a Mummer’s Parade in Wellsboro on Saturday morning.  I knew the Grand Canyon was nearby and planned to go with Jen to hike the trail that morning and show her some of the beauty of Pennsylvania.  Only problem was, I didn’t know how to get there.  I know—I’ll just follow Merrill up in my car.  Got it figured out. No problem.

There was a pre-wedding party the night before at a bar in a hotel in town.  I was the pinnacle of youth and could drink a lot of Miller Lite.  I did drink a lot of Miller Lite that night, but not enough to inebriate myself to drunkenness—can Miller Lite actually do that anyway?  Needless to say, we were out late having a great time with our friends, got home at a decent hour and went to bed.  I set my alarm for the trip to the PA G.C. the next morning. 

Granddad had to wake us up. I guess my alarm was turned off or I set it for PM or whatever.  We had to rush a little bit.  I was a little slow to move that morning.  Got a hot shower and didn’t have time for my coffee ritual, as Merrill had thrown it all away.  Luckily there was leftover hot water and some Sanka—out of a can—Instant, that you grab some scoops and put in water for that kind of coffee taste with the dregs in the bottom.  Those who drink coffee know that sometimes it doesn’t have to taste right, it just has to WORK.  This was one of those mornings. 

I chugged down a good amount of coffee, dregs and all and we proceeded to leave because Merrill had some type function and didn’t want to be late.  Out the door we went.  The first thing we had to do was pick up his lady-friend nearby.  I was finally starting to wake up.  This Sanka was actually working—excellent!  The next thing we had to do was buy gasoline, which was a good thing because the granules of Sanka were hanging on my uvula like a sugar ant to a piece of candy.  We both stopped and grabbed fuel.  As I paid inside, I felt a little bit like I needed to go pee, but didn’t have time as we had to follow Merrill and didn’t want to get lost. I grabbed us each a 20 oz Diet Coke because we were both feeling a little run-down from the night of drinking the evening before and still needed to wake up a little bit.  Fluids are good and will wash away the remnants of the Sanka anyway, right? Pinnacle of health.

Pennsylvania State Highway 287 was the route to Wellsboro, if I recollect.  This road, like most older Pennsylvania roads are rutted switch back roads, with enough curves, drops, and climbs to make Mario Andretti a little queasy.  This road was no exception.  This road was approximately 38 to 40 miles long.  Merrill sometimes likes to drive like Mario Andretti.  Merrill also knows these roads like the back of his hand where I needed to be a little more cautious yet didn’t want to slow him down from his destination or appointment or place in line for the parade or whatever it was.

About fifteen miles into this trip, my bladder got a little mad at me for not relieving myself at the gas station. This anger would intensify and let me know it was there every rut, pothole, left turn, right turn, dip, drop and climb that occurred, which basically occurred every 500 feet. I was really hoping we’d make it to Wellsboro so I could use a bathroom on a tree, off a float, in the street—I didn’t care, I had to go in a bad way and did everything to keep the pressure off---unbuttoned my pants, adjusted my seat, whatever I could do.

Twenty miles to Wellsboro. Fifteen. Ten. Cruising along at about 60 miles an hour.  Four miles to Wellsboro—the town is getting a little busier.  I swear I’m just gonna grab a bottle and just piss in it while driving.  It’s impossible for me to do prior experience.  I’ve tried.  I don’t know why it’s impossible, it just IS. TWO MILES out of Wellsboro and a Tank truck pulls out in front of us. OMG. NO.  20 mph. I finally couldn’t take it anymore and made a command decision to find the closest place possible.  People were everywhere. Cars were everywhere.  Youd’ve thought this was the damn Macy’s parade on New Year’s day in New York.  Really people?  Find some other activities! After about five minutes I found a grocery store, a small one, maybe built in the 40s.  No place to park.  In front of this dumpster with the no parking sign looks good.  Nothing can stop me now.  I leave Jen in the car so it doesn’t get towed. I tell her I’ll be right back because I can see the “to the Grand Canyon” signs and know where to go.

The grocery store is a dull fluorescent lit yellow; concrete block walls.  It was small at the time, but may as well have been a Walmart Supercenter. I decided to check the perimeter in order to find the closest bathroom.  No signs, must have missed it.  Five minutes go by, my bladder was SCREAMING at me to just pee in the frozen section.  FINALLY, I see a store employee and ask them where the bathroom is. On the other side of the store through the double doors.  Of course that’s where it is.  I’m running now.  People are staring. I turn left and enter the Men’s room.  Thank you Lord Jesus for all that is good and proper in my life as I get to the urinal, next to the stall.

I used to be a tightie whitie brief wearer.  I wear boxers nowadays, but the decision to wear briefs was the greatest decision I could have ever made during this normal start gone very, very bad morning.

Apparently my bladder decided to get back at me.  As I stood next to the urinal, I released everything, it was the closest thing to complete solitude I’d ever experienced. May as well have been an orgasm.

Then my body relaxed. And when I say relaxed, I mean RELAXED.  This includes my rectum and anus. There was no warning. There was not a grunt, just a thought of stunned horror as I realized all that tenseness made me realize I guess I had to crap too.  And now I did—right in my tightie whities.  Luckily, tightie whities form a little basket to hold things.  This is why I was happy with my decision to wear tightie whities that day.  All was well, or was it?  I’m just glad it was the pinnacle of health solid poo, an not some diarrhea post PBR dump which usually occurs to me nowadays.  Pinnacle of Health. 

So now, as I stand in front of the urinal with a load of poo in my basket, I am trying to figure how to get to the stall.  Well there now, apparently the stall is occupied by a patron of the store.  Lovely. All humanity has left the building.  I’m hoping the guy in the stall is close to being done.  It’s a waiting game now, as it always is because you never want to be the guy that is seen as the one smelling up the bathroom (afterward if no one knows it’s you, it’s a lot of fun though).  So I just stood there, in the moment waiting for this guy to leave so I could take care of my present in privacy, praying that no one would walk in.  After what seemed like an hour, an older gent decided he was finally going to leave the stall and walk by me, toward the sink—I smiled and waved—ha.  He did give me an unpleasant old codger stare, like I’d ruined his morning time or something but my situation was a little more important and I didn’t care.  As he walked out to the store, I was able to do a granny two-step, with my present holding steady, the elastic of the leg holes of the tightie whities holding fast, and the ability to dump my present into the toilet.  It was an awful experience and I’m sorry it happened, but funny at the same time.  So, for you, person who had to empty the trash and found a brand new, yet horribly skidmarked pair of tightie whities, I’m morbidly sorry.

The PA Grand Canyon is the only trail I’ve ever hiked commando.  Pinnacle of youth.