Road Trip Day Eight: Urban, Industrial and Old

 Day Eight took me from Madison, Wisconsin to Maumee, Ohio.  The route took me through South Chicago, into Indiana and across into Ohio.  Most of the drive was pretty urban and on toll roads.  In Illinois, the toll roads have “Oasis” and not “Rest Stops.”  An Oasis (the concept continues pretty much throughout the northeast) is sort of a State-owned truck stop.  There is fuel, restrooms and a variety of commercial stores.  The stores are mostly fast food. 

The first thing I noticed when I stop for a break in Illinois was the humidity.  It wasn’t very hot (around 80), but there was no breeze and it was that kind of humidity where the air feels wet.  The stop was off the toll road, at the Oasis in South Chicago.  It smelled like the Los Angeles-Vernon border; urban, industrial and old.  Maybe I got jaded by six days in the countryside.   While the drive was unremarkable, I did attend our Rotary Club meeting via Zoom.  It was cool on two levels.  First, the technology that allows us to participate and stay connected is amazing.  Secondly, our guest speaker was speaking from his office in Madison, Wisconsin.  I had just left there!

Maumee, Ohio is slightly south of Toledo.  I chose this hotel because it is in a safe area, good price and is part of my “rewards program.”  And, most importantly, right off my route.  I spent a lot of time in Ohio and Indiana when I worked for a university, so not really interested in site seeing.  After check-in, I had dinner at the Cracker Barrell (going to get a Waffle House under my belt ((literally)) on this trip).  Corn Bread encrusted cat fish with corn dodgers (you westerners call them Hush Puppies) and cole slaw. 

So, far, 2729 miles in eight days.  Tomorrow’s hotel is in Lamar Pennsylvania.  Just over a five hour drive and I am looking forward to exploring and site seeing on the road as I amble up to Augusta, Maine. 

Road Trip Day Seven: High Plains Driftwood

 Day Seven was supposed to be a power drive from Rapid City, South Dakota to Madison, Wisconsin.  I intended to do the 772 miles in about 12 hours.  The day started out walking sideways, but I thought I had turned that around. 

Over the last few days I had been developing an increasing painful and restrictive stiff neck.  When I arrived at Rapid City I stopped at a Walgreens and picked up an ice pack and Salonpas.  I figured I would ice and then hot shower, rinse and repeat for a few hours; get some sleep and be on the road.  But I just couldn’t get comfortable enough to sleep.  At midnight I gave up.  The car was loaded and I was on the road at 1230AM. 

At 1230AM, there is absolutely no one on Highway 90 in South Dakota. The speed limit is 80MPH, so I set the self-drive control to 84MPH.  Dial in my podcast and flew through the slightly foggy night.  By the way, that’s my thing – Podcasts.   If you drive a lot, Wondery is a great app.  I like the Podcast Cold.  The current one I am listening to multi-decade look at a Utah Cold Case.  They are phenomenally well produced. 

Part of my genius overnight power drive was to stop every 45 minutes, get out of the car and stretch.  I set the timer on my phone and when 45 minutes passed I stopped at the next off ramp.  At 0430AM, as I am screaming down the highway, the sun begins to come up.  I can see that is nothing but flat farmland. About 6AM commuter traffic had picked up as I came to a major construction zone.  The speed limit reduces to 45MPH so that you can crossover the meridian and enter a 10 mile stretch of two-way on the same side.  The other side is completely closed off.

After crossing over, the speed limit increase to 60MPH.  The only thing separating you for oncoming

traffic is a bunch of cones.  I had switched off the auto drive and accelerating out of the 45MPH transition into to 60MPH.  As I reach about 58MPH, there is a loud bang and the rear of the car begins to make a loud crashing noise and drift every so slightly left.  Also, multiple alarms sounded and flashed on the dash.  I immediately thought tire blow out and then followed that up with: can’t be – the tires are new, like brand new.  I defaulted back to blow out, took my foot off the accelerator and as the car slowed I steered to the right.  Except there is NO SHOULDER!  Just a ditch.  I can see cars coming on in the rear-view mirror so I hit the emergency flashers and steer the slowing car off the road and down the ditch embankment.  I come to stop at the flattest point. 

Cars and trucks wiz by about 6 feet from me.  I get out and inspect the tire.  Yep, toast.  Next, I pop the trunk, move the luggage and inspect the donut.  All good.  I consider changing the tire.  Except, the ditch is all tall grass on a semi-damp base.  I can see that the little scissor jack is only going to sink in and not lift the car.   That’s okay, I am a 35-year member of the AutoClub with Premier Membership. 

When I call the Autoclub all I can tell them is I am several miles east of the 81 on Highway 90.  I use my phone to get my exact latitude and longitude and the AutoClub operator is able to pinpoint my location – supposedly.  The operator tells me the truck has a one-hour ETA.  I then look up the nearest KIA Dealership is Sioux Falls, South Dakota – their service department opens at 730AM.  So I figure that at 730, before the tow arrives I can call the service department and see about getting a replacement tire. 

I am a little concerned because my car has high performance tires.  While waiting for the service department at KIA in Sioux Falls to open, the tow driver calls me.  He can’t find me.  I tell him on the 90 east of the 81.  Well, he was told west of the 81.  He has 45 minute ETA, maybe.  At 735AM I call the Kia service department is Sioux Falls.  It takes three calls to get through (they kept sending me to a voice mail), eventually I get the parts manager and ask him if he has the tire.  He checks and says he doesn’t but he can order them from Wisconsin.  He finishes by saying “We should have the tire in four or five days.”  In my defense, I had the stiff neck, no sleep and the blowout when I replied, “Five days!  Do you ship them by fucking donkey?”

There was silence.  I broke the silence.  “Okay, I can’t wait five days.  What are my other options?”

He replies, “You could call around to the tire dealers in Sioux City and see if one of them has one.”

I state very calmly, “So, your best advice to the owner of a brand new KIA K5 GT Redline series, with less than 3,000 miles on the car, and still completely under warranty, is that I should call around while stranded in the middle of the prairie and see if other tire dealers have the right tire?” 

He back tracks very quickly, “I didn’t know your car was new.”  I recall leading with the new car under warranty earlier, but I say, “So, you, the parts expert are going to call around for me and find me a tire?”  He says yes.

Right after finishing that conversation the tow truck driver calls me and says, “Did you see me go by?  I ask him “what do you mean?”  He says, “I haven’t seen your car I thought maybe I drove past it.” 

“Dude, it’s the only car stuck in a ditch for 100 miles.”  He doesn’t respond.  I tell him to hold on.  I grab the latitude and longitude off the map app on the phone and text it to him.  “click on the link.”  I tell him.  He shows up five minutes later. After he changes the tire, I give him $10 and ask him to stay with me in case I can’t get my car out of the ditch.  Fortunately, the all-wheel drive heaved it right onto the highway.

I plug the KIA dealership in Sioux falls into the car navigation.  It is on Madison Boulevard.  I get there, find the parts manager and he has a slip of paper with “Tires, Tires, Tires, Mitch”  written on it.  Tires, tires, tires is the company, Mitch is the guy who is going to hook me up.  I say, “Great, where is this place?”  He says with a straight face, “Do you know where Madison Boulevard is?”  My brain actually skids to a halt.  I say very slowly, “Aren’t we on Madison Boulevard?”  He says as if he just realizes something, “Yea.  Yea. We are.” 

I final get a tire.  Its noon.  I have 500 miles left to drive.   The drive is essentially a straight line across South Dakota and Minnesota into Wisconsin.  You get close to the border with Iowa, but never actually get there.  About halfway through Minnesota, the farmland begins to turn a deeper green and have more forest areas.  The first picture is still in Minnesota on the edge of what is considered the Mississippi River Valley.  The photograph is looking west and you can see that steeper hillsides and thick forest vegetation that becomes more common. 

At this point, Highway 80 takes you through into Wisconsin and over the Upper Mississippi River.  The second photograph is taken just inside Wisconsin, looking west.  The area is river, wetalnds and a bunch of different rivers and creeks.  As I drove east, it got much warmer and much more humid. 

Shorter drive tomorrow, aiming for just past Toledo.

 

 

 

 

Road Trip Day Six: A simple Stone of Remembrance

Sunset last night in Wright, Wyoming

I left Wright, Wyoming at about 7AM and traveled south on the 59 to the 450 east.  Just off the 59, the 450 passes the Black Thunder Coal Mine.  It is a surface mining operation and one of the largest in the world.  Indeed, it boast being the most productive in the U.S., providing about 8% of U.S. coal.   I saw the longest train I have ever seen lining up and receiving coal.  The general area also boasts a uranium mine and at least six active oil/gas drilling sites.  I learned most of this last night

Wicked Espresso, Custer, SD

listening to the staff at the hotel interact with the miners coming off-shift. 

The Wright Hotel was clean, quiet and well-maintained, but it obviously caters to the energy industry that drives the area.  While most hotels serve their complimentary breakfast beginning at 630AM, the Wright starts at 4AM; for the various workers headed off to long shifts.

Crazy Horse Monument

As the 450 approaches Newcastle Wyoming, the landscape begins to change from the high plains endless vistas of rolling grasslands, to greener and pine tree dotted and hilly countryside.  I stopped briefly in Newcastle and got a cup of gas station coffee.  Sometime after leaving Newcastle, I crossed into South Dakota.  I must have missed the sign saying Welcome to South Dakota, but the increasing elevation and now thick pine forest and green meadows showed me I was approaching the Black Hills National Forest. 

After Newcastle I drove Highway 16 and dropped down into the town of Custer.  It looks like Custer is the beginning of the cluster of towns and hamlets that cater to the South Dakota summer vacation travelers.  There are camps, hotels, trail rides essentially, anything you might want to do in the Black Hills Forest.

The gas station coffee had left a sour taste in my mouth so I decided to seek out a better cup of coffee.  My trusty cell phone told me there was a coffee place called “Wicked Espresso” on Highway 16 (Alternatively referred to as Mount Rushmore Road).  I saw the place, made a u-turn and drove down a small gravel driveway to the rear lot.  As I walked around front I saw a number of obvious turistas sitting on the front wooden deck, sipping fancy coffee and surfing the net. 

Mount Rushmore

I order my coffee and the older fella behind the counter (older, being about my age) asked where I was from.  After I reply, Bob tells me his father started a cabinet making business in La Verne which he took over and ran for many years.  He lived in and around San Dimas most of his life.  Here we are, 1,245 miles from San Dimas, talking about Roady’s.  After the cabinet business, Bob bought the Purple Pie Shop in Custer, South Dakota.  Sold that to his son and then opened “Wicked Expresso” next door.   The coffee was great, the staff (including Bob) were friendly and location is real convenient.  I left Bob and followed the signs to Mount Rushmore.  Not far out of town I saw the “Crazy Horse Monument.” 

Wild Bill's Grave

What the heck, I am here.  I paid $15 to enter the parking area.  As I drove up the hill, I saw the throngs of people waiting for a bus to take them to the actual monuments.  That is an additional fee, crowded, probably time consuming and looked like a Variant D rich environment.  Parked the car, snapped the pic, back on the road.

Mount Rushmore was just as crowded, but it was only $5 and they do park very close to the monument.  After reviewing my picture, I must have been standing where every other photographer has stood to take the picture.  I didn’t go to much further into the venue because like Crazy Horse it was just too crowded.

Lane Signs Boaz and Jachin

Back on the road for Deadwood.  The 45-minute drive is splendid.  You enter from this direction between the towns of lead and Deadwood.  It would take a full day to explore all the shops, restaurants, saloons and museums.  Like the previous locations, it was packed.  I decided the single stop I would make would be the cemetery. 

The Mount Moriah Cemetery is located on a wooded plateau just above Deadwood Gulch.  I am not a Biblical scholar, but there are several Old Testament references to Mount Mariah.  The first being the location that Abraham was going to sacrifice his son; the second as the location that the Temple of Solomon was erected.  You can look that up for yourself and go down the rabbit holes associated with debates on translation and geography. 

Stone Masonic Altar

It is fairly certain, however, that the people who constructed the cemetery chose the name in reference to the Temple.  The lanes between sections have names like Solomon, Hiram (probably in reference to Hiram of Tyre, one of the kings who provided materials for the building of the Temple), Jachin and Boaz (the names of the bronze pillars that stood on the porch of the temple).  Deadwood was formed around 1876 and the Cemetery sometime around 1878.  The formation of a cemetery as an early public area in Deadwood make sense given the mortality rate in a frontier gold town.

I paid the $2 for the self-guided tour.  Walked up the hill with the intention of viewing the graves of Wild Bill Hickok and Calamity Jane.  As I walked up the hill and read the pamphlet I was very surprised to learn the cemetery’s Masonic Connection. In 1887, the Deadwood Masons purchased an additional 1.5 acres for the departed Brothers.  Over time, additional expansions to the cemetery made the section almost dead-center to the overall cemetery. 

Then, in 1914, the Deadwood Mason undertook a project to revamp their section.  They created an outdoor representation of a Lodge room.  It is situated east to west, with a Masonic Altar in center.  The called it the “Mount Mariah Celestial Lodge.”  As you stand in their stone outdoor Lodge you can see the various stations you would see inside a Lodge room.  Moreover, the names Solomon, Hiram, Jachin and Boaz are significant in Masonic Lore. 

The full carving on the stone Altar reads “Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth.”  This is from Ecclesiastes 12:1, and an important passage in Masonic lore.  I noted the small rocks piled on and around the base of the Altar.   Typically, this is Jewish customer of remembrance.  Again, you can go down a number of research avenues to explain this custom.  I, however, like the simple explanation.  Flowers and the like wilt, but a small stone of remembrance will last a very long time.  I placed mine on base of the Altar, remembering my parents as well as the Brothers I know who have journeyed to that undiscovered country.

Back on the road with an overnight stop in Rapid City.

Tomorrow is a power drive day.  I intend to journey to Madison, Wisconsin.  About 12 hours, 772 miles.

 

 

 

DOD Identifies Air Force Casualty

 June 27, 2021

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The Department of Defense announced today the death of an Airman who was supporting Operation Inherent Resolve. 

Lt. Col. James C. Willis, 55, of Albuquerque, New Mexico, died June 26 in a non-combat related incident at Al Udeid Air Base, Qatar. The incident is under investigation.

He was assigned as Commander of the 210th Red Horse Squadron, New Mexico Air National Guard, Kirtland Air Force Base, New Mexico. 

For more information, media may contact the New Mexico National Guard Public Affairs Office at 505-553-1427.

Road Trip Day Five: Toast in Rawlins

An early start on a Sunday morning meant open road.  The first leg, east on the 80 until I got to the town of Rawlins, Wyoming.  I reached Rawlins about 8AM and saw two local police officers pulling into the parking lot of a convenience store (The Jug and Loaf).  I figured they would know the best place to get breakfast on a Sunday Morning.  

The one whose patch I took a picture of was loaded down with tactical gear.  His regular uniform plus a tactical vest with six magazines (plus the two on his belt), a taser, and pockets filled with stuff.  Policing sure has changed, when I started it was a revolver and a 30 inch piece of hickory (the baton).  Or, maybe Rawlins is super dangerous on Sunday mornings.  Anyway, we chatted a while and they had two recommendations:  Penny’s Café or Cappy’s Café.  Their

Masonic Temple in Rawlins Wyoming

recommendations were tepid, at best. 

I then asked them, “Do you have a Masonic Lodge in town?”  The non-tac vest officer quickly replied, “No we have never had a Masonic Lodge.”  Before I could reply, Tac Vest Officer said, “That’s right, but there is a Masonic Temple downtown.”  I got directions.

I had passed Cappy’s on the way into town so I drove back there.  If you live in San Dimas, the interior looks like Roady’s.  Same worn booths and tables.  The comparison ends there. I ordered a Western Omelet.  The server asked, “Would you like toast?”

“Yes, may I have sour dough?”

“Sorry, we are out.”  She replied.

“Okay, Rye?”

“No.  We ran out of that this morning.”  She said.

“Wheat?”

“No.  We just ran out.” 

“English muffin?”  I asked.

“We don’t carry that.”

“White?” 

“Western omelet and white toast” She said as she scribbled on her pad.  I think they are missing an “R”in Cappy.

After eating I stepped outside for the customery smoke.  I kept looking across the parking lot at this parked car and trying to figure out what model it was.  It looked like a 1950s something.  I must be tired.  After a minute or so I could see why I couldn’t determine the make or model.

Wyoming Frontier Prison

After looking at the Lodge, I drove three blocks north to the Wyoming Frontier prison.  It’s now a museum, with guided tours.  It was open,
but I had missed the tour by 15 minutes and the next one wasn’t for about 45 minutes.  Although I didn’t hang out for the tour, I did look through the three small, but packed exhibition rooms.  The exhibition were worth the stop and if I had time, the tour would probably have been interesting.  If you are ever Rawlins, its thumbs down on Cappy’s but thumbs up on the prison. 

Out of Rawlins I drove north on the 220.  Between Rawlins and Casper, there is Independence Rock.  It was considered the half-way point for settlers traveling from Missouri to Oregon and California. 

Near Independence Rock Wyoming

I made a 2 mile detour on the route and drove into Casper Wyoming.  I stopped along the road in town to get a good look at the North Platte River.  If you asked people about American Rivers they might say the Mississippi or the Colorado.  But, I always wanted to see (and cross) the North Platte.  It is over 500 miles long and winds through Montana, Colorado and Nebraska.  If you have read more than two Westerns in your life you have read about the Platte.     

I continued north and east on various highways until I reached my destination on the high plains – Wright Montana.  The temperature hovered between 54 and 63 from Rocky Springs until Wright (315

High Plains in Wright Wyoming

miles) and it rained, occasionally hard.  Wright is about 90 minutes or so from my next stop (Mount Rushmore). 

The Wright Hotel is the best place I have stayed thus far.  Very large, clean and quiet.  Still has the muddy boots sign – must be a Wyoming thing.

 

Road Trip Day Four: Nothing Special

I left Lehi Utah fairly late and drove up the 215 and onto the 80.  As soon as I began to climb the pass the terrain changed from desert grey and red to all green.  At the summit there were tall pine trees and a nice breeze.  The descent into Wyoming first presented with rolling green hills but slowly changed to brown dry scrub brush. 

Just inside Wyoming I stopped an Evanston to stretch and look around a bit.  The historic downtown is a collection of early 19^th Century buildings.  If you walk around downtown you will be treated to constant Country Western Music playing from outdoor speakers.  I did an internet search for a coffee place and found “The Caffeinated Cowboy.”  It is the smallest coffee house I have yet visited.  Definitely takeout.

As continued east on the 80 I saw all these signs for “Little America.”  The billboards said Buffalo
Burgers; 75 cent ice cream cones; and, 17 marble bathrooms.  I got off the highway and followed the signs – to a truck stop.  After yesterday’s experience, I made a U-turn and got back on the highway. 

I arrived at my overnight destination in Rocky Springs, Wyoming.  Well, Don Draper would have loved

the Clarion Hotel.  In the 1960s, the ski-lodge like lobby with roaring fireplace and the indoor pool under the open beam ceilings would have been first rate.  But, it has been a hard 50 years for the Clarion.  The hotel is using paint and Lysol like foundation make-up. 

As I entered the lobby the first thing I noticed that it did not have a “mask” or “Covid” sign.  It did have a sign that says, “Take Off Your Muddy Shoes Before You Enter.”   My room is a balcony room over the indoor pool.  That means I can currently hear 8 or 9 children doing cannon balls into the pool.  And, when I walk out of my room the air is that humid chlorine smell.  Seriously, I opened my door and took the picture of the pool.

The town hear has an interesting mix of early 20^th Century buildings.  I did find the Masonic Lodge, walked around bit and had dinner at the Village Café.  It was okay, they served me chicken friend steak with my gravy.

Tomorrow I am staying at the Wright Lodge and Open Range Steak House on the border of Montana and South Dakota.  I am hopeful.

Road Trip Day Three: Rookie Mistakes

I set out at 5AM from Page, Arizona.  It was about a 140 mile drive to Monument Valley, Utah.  You gradually ascend from about 3700 feet to just over 5000 feet and experience about a 10 degree drop in temperature.  I reached Monument valley about 8AM and it was a very nice 73 degrees.  As you drive through lots of open high desert you know you are close when you get to the McDonald’s.   Yep, there is a lot of nothing and then a McDonald’s seems to rise out of the desert floor like some urban mirage. 

As you drive into the Valley you can see many of the terrain features that make the area famous, if not sacred.  The Navajo Nation, including the Navajo controlled part of the Park is closed due to Covid.  They are, however, still running tours out of the off-rez hotels. I went to Goulding Lodge and saw the 10 to 12 seat, open area pick-up truck with a canvas overhead tour vehicles loading up.  The one that was loading only had 3 people.  The operator wanted a $100. 

“Where does the tour go?” I asked him.

“I’ll show you.”  He answered as he opened up a map.  Essentially, his tour made a big loop on the highway. 

“Let me think on it.”  I replied. 

As he took off on the tour, I got in my car and followed.  Sure enough, we drove down a highway marked “Scenic Highway” and he stopped at paved turn out marked “Scenic View.”  I buzzed ahead in my car, pulled into the next one and looked up the thing I was looking at on the Internet.  I figured it was a toss up on accuracy, the tour guide or Wikipedia.  It took a little more than an hour.  

The five photographs really don’t do the Valley justice.  From a long way off they look like castles or fortresses.  The wind and rain erosion makes shapes like human faces and animals, sort of like looking at a cloud and seeing a face or shape of animal; but in stone.  After my self-guided tour, I set the navigation for Provo, Utah. 

I went through Mexican Hat (yep, the rock looks like a man wearing a giant sombrero), crossed the San Juan River and stopped at Bluffington Fort. Now, this leg of the trip is 367 miles.  A long way.  Here is where I made the mistakes because I was getting tired.

As I was driving down the 70, there was a sign “Last Service for 107 Miles.”  I have over a half a tank of gas, but figure I could gas up, go to the bathroom and get a cup of coffee.  The place was a Pilot Truck Stop.  You know what to expect at truck stops.  As I pull off the freeway, the gas pumps are slightly backed up and the parking lot is nearly full.  But, there is a parking lot around the back and it looks pretty empty.  Besides, those places are huge on the inside.  Not a problem.  I actually slip into the gas line and get filled up without waiting.  I pull around back and get a spot easily. 

Then I walk inside.  It’s actually a mini-truck stop on the inside.  And, there are at least 200 people in the store.  Several of the shelves are empty and men are stacking boxes of restock in the aisles.  People are opening those and going through them.  The boxes of restock make even less room in an already crowded place.  There is a line, a long line, of people waiting and watching as hotdogs rotate on that roller cooker thing; there is a half-eaten corndog spinning in the corner as it begins to burn.

I waded through the crowd toward the restroom.  It was so crowded and noisy, people were shouting to be heard.  Like you would shout at bar with a loud band.  No one is wearing a mask.  I can feel the droplets of Covid (not really, but in my imagination I could).  I exited the bathroom and head over toward the coffee.  I only get a few feet when two ten year old boys begin fighting over what must be the last bag of M&Ms.  The crowd jostles toward the sound and the coffee is blocked.  Scarcity (107 miles to next service) and pent-up demand (A year on quarantine) have created a Walking Dead scenario in this truck stop.  I new that at any moment they would begin to bite each other, and it would be full-on Walking Dead.  I backtrack and fled through the rear entrance.   

I jumped back up the highway.  After a few miles, I saw a great sign.  The speed limit was 80MPH.  There I am, in the fast lane, going 83 and listening to Jazz.  I was in the zone.  So much so that I missed my turn off.  Yikes,  the next exit is 10 miles!  I get back on track and arrive in Lehi, Utah in the late afternoon.

Next stop Jackson Hole Wyoming.