Road Tripping, Post II

Ladies and Gentlemen,

Wisconsin has been wonderful.

A few of the places on the road trip have been fun mainly because, had it not been for this trip, I don't know if I ever would have made them destinations. I've never told myself that one day maybe I'd want to vacation out to St. Louis, Missouri, or La Crosse, Wisconsin, or Milwaukee, Wisconsin, but these are all places I've seen on my road trip so far. Everyone knows that when they go to Chicago or Los Angeles or New York they will be impressed. Those are cities with clout, with reputations, with expectations. But it's been exhilarating to enjoy a place you weren't expecting much from. I had a wonderful time in St. Louis, even though my stay there was brief. The weather was beautiful, the arch was impressive, and the people were friendly. After Shelby and I finally woke up, we lazily exited our car in search for a coffee shop. We both looked grungy, but I particularly so, having not showered in a couple of days wearing a stretched out wife beater and jeans I had basically worn for the past week and a half straight. But we found a Starbucks, and despite our appearances, I was greeted at the door.

"Hey, my man, how you doin? Look, can you help me out for a sec?" There was a very friendly employee at the door with a propped up cardboard display for a new drink. He seemed to be placing it.
"Yeah, what's up?"
"This ad, can you see it as you walk in?"
I thought for a minute. "Yeah, it looks pretty good there, but, I mean, the window frames here blocks it a bit." When you approached the Starbucks you actually walked through a glass vestibule, and the framing prevented seeing the ad until you walked through the door.
"So I should move it to the right a bit, right?"
"I would say it wouldn't hurt."
"Hey, thanks my man. Hey, you ordering something?"
"I was planning on it."
"Yo, Frankie. Frankie! Whatever this guy wants, it's on me. Thanks a lot my man."
All I had was the cliche, "No. Thank you."

I help place a sign, I get a free drink. Things like that don't happen very often, and it made me feel like I was somewhere different. The rest of the day was essentially the arch. We lounged around the grassy park around it, beat the heat in the shadow under it, and then went in it for a ride to the top. The lifts inside are very small and metal and white, but managed to sit five people, and look like some sort of ejection pods from a 60s sci-fi flick. These stupid things were shaped like those ridiculous egg shaped chairs. Any chair that makes you sit forward is not a chair; it's a torture device, and that's a bit how I felt in this. After that, though? What can I say? We got up, we got down, and I took a couple pictures in between.

We left St. Louis around 5: 30, which towards the end of the drive turned out to be a mistake. The problem with getting in late is that you want to spend most of the next day in the city, since you hadn't had the time the night before. But, friends, it's easy to see the problem in this logic. The few hours of light we had showed more of the beautiful farmland that I'm so unused to seeing, but after about three hours it was dark, and I saw nothing, and I knew I had a long drive ahead. My directions, I knew, were somewhat incorrect. Around midnight I was driving through Illinois, approaching the Wisconsin boarder, my directions told me that once I crossed the boarder, I got onto I-90 and only had forty miles to go. I knew this had to be wrong, but stopped at a gas station to fuel up and see what the clerk in the convenience store had to say.
"Five hours"

"Excuse me?" I told him I didn't think this was possible. He was a big man, older, with a kind face and a Greek accent. He walked over to the selection of maps and pulled one out, then opened it.
"I drive from Arlinton, this is near us, to Rochester, to Hospital, across the river, in Minnesota. This take me six (seex) hours."

I told him that, though I don't think he's lying, the mileage looks less.
"Yes, well, maybe it will take you three or four, but either way, you will be burning the night." He smiled at me. I smiled back, then headed over to the Energy Drink isle of the refrigerated section and got the 24 oz "triple strength!" Rockstar energy drink.
"Guess I'll need it," I said.
"Drive carefully, my friend."
Shelby had driven about an hour today, but I had wanted to do almost all of the driving. I was at the end of a six month stint at Hands-On, and had curved my partying considerably at the end of the trip. She was there for a week, and tried to make the most of it; when I went home at two in the morning, she went home at five. She had carried on this pattern the entire week, and I didn't want someone with that little rest driving on what are basically completely straight roads for a couple hours at a time. She was sleeping when we pulled in to the gas station, and she continued to sleep most of the way to La Crosse, Wisconsin, which is where she lives. I found, however, that her being asleep kept me alert; I felt like a responsible father driving his sleeping daughter through the night.

The gas station clerk estimated five hours, we got there in three and a half. At three thirty I unloaded her stuff and we headed inside. I was on a caffeine overdose, exhausted but completely jittery. I was trembling a little bit, had a bit of a headache, but a bit of water at hitting the sheets and I was out. This was really all I would see of La Crosse, Wisconsin, the view of the pavement in the headlights and a single, two bedroom house.

I'm writing from Milwaukee right now. It's close to five in the morning, and I'm exhausted. I have so much more to talk about in my Wisconsin trek, but it will have to be for later. All I'll say is it's been a wonderful part of the trip, and I'll get in to it. I left in the morning, said my goodbye's to Shelby, and headed to Milwaukee to see another friend, Danielle. She is marvelous, she will be the majority of the next post, and she deserves it.

Farewell