andy's american adventure: all things go

Rochester, MN - A hot and party cloudy morning, a day without coffee is like a day without coffee

I find myself again having a cup'a'joe in Caribou Coffee, the midwest's version of Starbucks. From here, I'll continue westward on I-90 to South Dakota for a little camping. Compared to my eastbound trip, the westbound journey has been at a breakneck pace. Its taken me six days to get approximately halfway across the nation. Chicago went by as a cranky blurry sleepy blur. Things should slow down a bit soon. Lets review.

In Ann Arbor I packed up things fairly early and got on westbound I-94, Chicago-bound. I had only gotten about four hours of sleep the night before, as I'd stayed up late to finish the blog. Nothing a large coffee from across the street couldn't fix. By my estimates, if everything went smoothly, I would have arrived at the ballpark with an hour or so to go before the first pitch.

Things, however, did not go smoothly.

I drove the white wonder first to Kalamazoo. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kalamazoo%2C_MI) The traffic was moving along quickly, and I figured I had time to stop for lunch and maybe an oil change. I stopped at Uncle Ed's 10-Minute Oil Change and got the standard service. The three guys working there were impressed with the Integra's mileage, and we got to

talking about roadtrips they had taken. The one guy told me a story about how he had crossed the country with a schizophrenic. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schizophrenia) He didn't know his co-pilot had issues until the trip started, when his buddy decided to stop taking his medication. It just goes to show, you have to pick your co-pilot carefully. The guy also pointed out to me that my power steering belt was becoming frayed on one side. I didn't even blink.

"Yeah, I know."

The guys bid me farewell and good luck, and I was on my way westward again.

Driving across to southwestern Michigan, traffic came to an absolute stop. After twenty minutes

or so, people starting getting out of their cars and chatting amongst themselves. I was sure there must have been a huge accident of some sort. After a half hour, the traffic moved up about a quarter mile and stopped again. I grew a little irritated at all this. It was one of the only times I had to get somewhere by a specific time, and it was looking like I wasn't going to make the National Anthem. Grumble.

After an hour or so, the traffic began to file slowly towards Indiana. Later, there was more traffic as I approached the Chicago city limits. I reached the stadium at about 3pm, and could

hear a canon go off, presumably after the Star Spangled Banner was over. On an overcast afternoon, "US Cellular Field" looked dark, gloomy even. In keeping with the team's colors, the prominent color of the stadium is black. Beige brown concrete walls are set against foreboding black steel beams. I could hear the crown cheering for something, but I was still driving around, looking for parking.

Another hour went by before I could locate parking amongst the unfamilar Chicago streets. At the very least, I had found street parking only four blocks away. I made sure everything in the car was covered up with towels and blankets, hoping for the best.

By the time I had secured myself a beer and a hot dog, and found my seat, it was the middle of

the fourth inning. The game was going pretty quickly due to a pitcher's duel between the Cubs' Victor Zambrano and the White Sox's Mark Buehrle. Before I could even sit down, a very drunk White Sox fan started trash talking the Red Sox. It went like this:

"HEY! Are you a mreh mreh blah-blah-blah?"

"What?" I sat down.

"ARE YOU A mrehgef drenghu shre blah-blah-blah?"

I had no idea what she was saying. She had a thick mid-western accent and was ahead of me by a six-pack or so."

"I'm sorry, I don't follow you."

"ARE YOU from BOSTON?"

"Well, I'm from Maine actually, but..."

She said something derogatory about people from Maine (which I shan't repeat here), and her

boyfriend apologized. Welcome to Chicago. Really, the girl was just worked up from the Cubs/White Sox rivalry. There was definate tension in the air, as the crowd was made up of about 55% White Sox fans, and 45% Cubs fans. In the upper deck, you could hear drunken screaming matches between opposing fans. A Cubs fans would yammer on for five minutes or so, to which a White Sox fan would retort "NINE-TEEN-O-EIGHT". Clap clap, clap-clap-clap. And so on.

While I am generally a fan of the American League, I have to admit that, given my surroundings, I was feeling more inclined to route for the Cubbies. Which was good, as the Cubs went on to win 5-1. At the very least, I got to sing "Take Me Out To The Ballgame" during the seventh inning stretch. The crowd was much more passionate about singing the song than the fans in Cleveland had been.

And, just like that, the game was over. I was just beginning to relax a little when it was time to

go. Sigh. Happy to have seen at least half the game, I made my way back to the Integra. "US Cellular Field" seemed like a dark and uninviting ballpark. If Yoda preferred Fenway Park, I'm sure Darth Vader would prefer Chicago's south-side ballpark. I really wish the game had been at Wrigley Field. Ah well. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Darth_Vader)

I spent the next hour and a half getting lost in Chicago trying to find my motel in Palatine. Palatine is a suburb to the northwest of Chicago proper. By the time I got to my room, I was

tired and cranky. I didn't feel like playing any more. I considered canonballing it strait to San Francisco. I started making estimates for driving back to SF via I-80. Fading fast, I figured I'd sleep on it.

Feeling only a little better in the morning, I considered staying in Chicago for another day, to try and get myself collected. However, after a big cup of coffee, my spirits were lifted a bit, and I decided to press on. Being a Saturday, every campsite in Wisconsin state parks that was reservable was taken. I figured my odds were bad for finding an available campsite and so made a reservation for a room in Rochester, MN.

It rained as I drove north out of Illinois, keeping my spirits somewhat dampened. Wisconsin, however, was a breath of fresh air. The skies cleared and the sun came out. I put on a new coat of sunblock and wore a smile for the first time in a day or so. From then on, the drive was pleasant. I saw mostly corn fields and farms driving through Wisconsin. Its a very flat state, which I'm sure made for very good gas mileage.

It took me about six hours, in total, to reach Rochester. The rest of the evening was uneventful. Luckily, my motel has a Caribou

Coffee only a mile away or so, making it easy to add a post this morning. Now that I've finished my large coffee, I'm ready again to head west. If all things go according to plan, I should be camping at Pallisades State Park, in eastern South Dakota, tonight.