skyscraper national park

Gentle reader: This post has been written in two segments. This first half was written in my tent at the Badlands. The seond half, here in Buffalo. I've seen some amazing sights in South Dakota, but I'm relieved to have a night in a motel. Tonight I'm getting a little collected before venturing into Yellowstone NP. Lets get to it.

(6/26/07) Badlands NP, SD – An overcast and mild noon-time in Badlands NP, its starting to get a little brighter and warmer through the big white wide-open blanket sky

Its great to be camping again. In the last couple nights I’ve managed to see both extremes of South Dakota camping. The L.L. Bean tent held up well last night amongst warm and heavy prairie winds.

Back in Minnesota, I wrapped up the blog post and drove over to a “Super Target” nearby. The “super” means it has a supermarket as well. I picked up fresh fruit and vegetables, half and half, cookies, chili, canned beans, and water. I was determined to eat better than I had the last few days. The Bob’s Big Boy “Big Bleu”, while delicious in its own right, had turned me off to fastfood in general.

I took the 52 and the 63 out of Rochester and headed westbound on I-90. It took me about four hours to get across the southern edge of Minnesota. It was a hot and sunny day, although the Integra’s AC seemed to be holding up pretty well. I saw a whole lot of farms out there. Silos and cornfields. That more or less sums it up. Beautiful country, though.

Upon crossing the South Dakota line, I almost immediately made a right onto Route 11 towards Pallisades State Park. The drive was about ten miles of gravel and dirt roads. I’ve found that its better to not slow down when driving on dirt roads. The Integra, at least, handles dirt roads better going above 40 mph. I must say, the Integra is one happy car these days. All it does is go in one direction, at one speed, for hours at a time. The speed limit in South Dakota is 75 mph, making it easier to cross great lengths more quickly.

ANYWAY, Pallisades SP was quite attractive. It had large campsites, many with their own neatly trimmed grass lawns. I asked the nice lady at the entrance for a nice campsite with electricity. After a minute in the booth, she came out with a tag for my campsite. “This is a nice corner camp with lots of shade. What baseball game are you listening too?”

“The Red Sox versus the Padres.”

“Oh, I think there’s a semi-famous guy from South Dakota who plays for one of those teams.”

“I’m sure. Hey, is there swimming in the crick there?”

“Oh no, I mean, I see folks in there all the time, but I wouldn’t. Agricultural runoff, y’know.”

“Right.” I thought of the hundreds of miles of farmland I had just passed. Not to mention all the cows. “I’ll be sure to steer clear, thanks for the heads-up.”

My campsite WAS nice. It had a gigantic driveway, better suited for a large RV than the white wonder. It also had a backyard that would be an attractive addition to any home. You could play croquet back there. In the back of the yard was this little grey hare. It was chomping its gums and watching me closely. I was surprised at how close he let me get to him with my camera. With each picture, I’d inch a foot or two closer to him. Finally, with me crawling on my stomach towards him, he took off.

I set up camp and listened to the Red Sox beat San Diego. I spent an hour or so recharging various do-dads and gadgets before going for a hike along the nearby stream. The park had carved out a nice trail through the woods and across grassy stream-side pastures. There were bunny rabbits everywhere. They were as common at Pallisades SP as squirrels in Central Park. I got several pictures. At the stream I could see what the nice lady was talking about. I could spot a sort of foamy residue in the reddish-brown water. Still, that hike was fun.

Back at the campsite, I set up the stove and took a bundle of wood from the trunk. Finally, I was going start a campfire with some of the wood I had picked-up in Arizona. The firewood was light, having all of its water content baked out in the Acura’s trunk. I cooked up some chili and broccoli, and then lit the fire. The logs started up with no effort, and soon they were a hot blaze. Sweating from both the fire and the chili, I had to keep backing the chair away from the fire as it grew. Being in the upper seventies that night, there was no need for extra heat. That wood just had to burn. You know?

After the sun set, fireflies started their routine all around my campsite, and in neighboring campsites. They were everywhere. It was magic. Some of them would buzz right around the campfire. They were in the grass and hovering above. They were in the trees, and commuted along the campground road. Magic, I tell you.

The morning came with a bright steamy sun bearing down on my backyard. All the grass was soaked from the previous night’s condensation. I made some coffee and slowly packed my gear into the car. The advantage of driving west so quickly is that you get 25 hour days. You find yourself always looking at a clock in disbelief, and its calming. You always have more time on your hands than you thought. I was a sweaty mess after breaking down that tent. I took a shower, and noticed that I had started sweating as soon as I left the “comfort station.” I left at noon soon after. Badlandsbound.

I have never seen anything so flat as South Dakota along I-90. The fields are like the sea. You look out at the green-crested horizon to one side, and another to the other side. Ahead, you seen endless cornfields, with ripples coursing through with flatland gusts. As you drive (around 80 mph) the land gradually rises and falls, and you see bulges in the fields that resemble deep sea waves.

Halfway across, the interior of the car was warming. My arms were glistening with sweat, and I thought “Aw hell, the AC is finally dying.” Having it on was still way better than having it off, but it appeared to be losing ground. Driving further, I started wondering if I had really driven anywhere, the plains in front of me looked no different than the last two hundred miles. Only ten miles or so from the Badlands exit, I noticed the terrain shift suddenly. The land had become deserty, and filled with off-white rock formations that reminded me a little of Zion NP, except not red. I stopped at the first gas-station/general store I saw and realized why the car’s AC was failing, it was at least twenty degrees hotter there than it had been at Pallisades. Yikes. I entered the park and found the campgrounds. Badlands NP is both an uninviting and beautiful sight. The rock formations are various shades of white, yellow, and grey-brown. Its moon-like. With the triple-digit weather, it was downright harsh. A heavy and arid wind was constant. At the very least though, it kept you from sweating, if you found a shady spot.

The man at the front booth said his thermometer had just inched past one hundred, and I groaned. I snagged myself a campsite and had a hell of a time getting the tent set up. When only partially set up, the tent is a sail, and will lift right off the ground with heavy winds. This happened at Guadalupe NP as well. After five minutes of slapstick, a neighbor came over and held’er’down while I finished driving in the stakes. He said he had the same problem when setting up his tent the day before.

Afterwards, I went into a sort of energy conservation mode and felt like I was at Coachella all over again. Just a big, dry, and hot desert. Where’s the water?

Once the sun set, it occurred to me that the visitor center, only a half-mile away, had a restaurant. Considering how difficult it would be to cook with the Coleman and all that wind, I had myself a dinner of Idaho trout, baked potato, and a big’ol salad. I needed that. Walking back to my site, I was awash in sunset hues. Set against the odd other-worldy landscape, it was breathtaking. The new color spectrum reflected a different side of the rock formations, bringing out pink, yellow, and orange undertones.

In the distance you could make out faint lightening strikes. Not bolts, mind you, but round cloud flashes, as though they were all bulbs, and somewhere someone was pushing buttons. I sat in my green chair and watched the show while listening to Seattle beat up the Red Sox at Safeco Field. After an hour, lightening bolts could be made out, closer than the others. Sometimes they went sideways. However, the wind was blowing hard towards the lightening, which made me think that the storm would never reach the Badlands. Thankfully, it didn’t.

The wind at that point was particularly brutal to the tent. Just as it had done at Guadalupe NP, the tent sometimes would buckle completely, the poles bending in ways they shouldn’t have. As I slept that night, the tent wall would sometimes bend all the way down and brush up against me, waking me up. It was a happy sleep though. I left the tent’s rear door open, to allow circulation. The wind was hitting the tent’s front, and sometimes right, side.

I woke up with the sun just barely up, and reached for the blanket. The warm summer air had been replaced with a cooler and crisper one. I covered up my head and went back to sleep. I dreamed heavy, and woke up a few hours later.

With the wind still quite strong, I made coffee in my tent and read Tim Sadlin’s “Skipped Parts,” which Pete had leant to me back in Queens. Its a fun book. Recommended. I spent the rest of the morning reading. The sky was grey and overcast, the air mild. With the day seeming long, I figured I’d save the hike for the afternoon. That’s when I wrote this post. Now, it seems the sun has broken through the blanket and its getting hot out again. My foreheads is sweating from sitting in the tent and having a running computer on my lap. Time for a hike.

More soon.

Andy

(6/27/07) Buffalo, WY - A warm and clear night in Wyoming, it seems no matter how much sunblock I put on, my face burns every time under this high plains sun

I emerged from the tent to find that the clouds had cleared away almost completely and the air was growing hot. Looking around, the landscape reminded me of the beginning of "2001: A Space Odyssey". (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2001:_A_Space_Odyssey_%28film%29). I slathered sunblock all over and stuffed an apple and a bottle of water into my Little Teton. The Integra started up easily. It always seems to run the best in hot weather. I rode along route 240 a few miles and parked at the Saddle Pass trailhead.

The hike started with a fifteen minute climb/hike up the side of a canyon wall. The trail was steep and made up mostly of loose pebbles and sand. I would look back every once and a while to check out the view over the lower grasslands. It really was breathtaking. Once I reached the top, the ground became level again. I had reached a new plateau. The Medicine Root and Castle trails make a four mile loop. The ground up there is mostly white. Rainwater had rinsed sediment off the surrounding rock formations and painted the deserty floor white after it dried. You could make out footprints of hikers and other wandering animals. Occassionally I'd encounter thick patches of hardy tall grasses and starchy bright flowers. Set against a seriously blue sky, the flowers seemed enchanted. I couldn't put the camera down. I'd meet with some amazing scene nearly every twenty yards along the trails.

A sign at the beginning of the trail warned against rattlesnakes, and so I was also keeping a very close eye also on the trail ahead of me. The only animals I saw up there, though, were birds and insects. I did see plenty of tracks for some kind of three-toed creature, maybe some kind of boar/pig? The tracks had been set recently in mud that had become dry as a bone by that afternoon.

Despite the sunblock, I could feel the skin on my arms stinging a little from the sun. There wasn't one lick of shade in the whole area. Not a single tree. I expected to see a monolith around any given corner. It was bloody hot, and I was sweating when I returned to the top of Saddle Pass. I skipped, and slid, down the trail and drove back to the campsite. That evening I dined again at the restaurant nearby, having fried chicken, french fries (even though I ordered mashed potatoes), and a big'ol salad.

Later at the tent, I listened the Red Sox get clobbered, again, by Seattle. The pitcher filling in for Schilling had a complete meltdown early-on. Ugh. As soon as the sun set, I climbed into bed and passed out.

This morning, I got up around 7am and packed up the car. I put on a ton of sunscreen and it took me about 45 minutes to drive across to the other side of the park. I kept stopping along the way to take pictures. I think my favorite part of the park was the yellow rocks I'd seen near the park exit. It was as though someone had swiped a big paintbursh across those rocks.

I drove out of the park and to nearby Wall to mail a few things out. When you drive from eastern to western South Dakota, you see over three hundred miles of constant billboards for Wall Drug. Saturation advertizing, it is. When you do finally reach Wall, the drug store is foremost on your mind. Basically, Wall Drug is a giant maze of mini-stores. There's a pharmacy, a few restaurants, clothing stores, jewelry stores, knick-knack stores, and souvenir shops. There's even a chapel. The back portion of the compound is like an amusement park, with more specialty stores and over-sized animal statues. I took a few pictures and got out before buying any knick-knacks.

It took me about an hour and a half to drive over to Mt. Rushmore. Once I got off I-90, the terrain changed to a hilly forest setting. The Integra groaned a little as I worked my way up the half hour ascent. Mt. Rushmore seems a little out of place. After driving past some gorgeous sunny forest landscape, it seemed strange to find a very formal-looking monument area. It seemed more fitting for Washington D.C. After parking, you walk down a long promenade which is lined with large granite blocks holding up state flags. Every state is represented in this display. Looking down the length of the promenade, you can see the monument. Closing my eyes, I could hear kids throwing temper tantrums left and right. Parents were trying to reason with the tots, explaining that Mt. Rushmore was an exciting place to visit. The children were unconvinced. Ultimately, I was a little disappointed with Mt. Rushmore. The monument itself is amazing, for about five minutes, but the rest of the hoopla wasn't so cool.

On the way back to I-90, I stopped in downtown Rapid City for a gas-up and a carwash. After that, it took about four hours to reach Buffalo, WY, and the Motel 6 there. Wyoming started out as fairly flat green prairie-land, and gradually became more mountainous as I approached Buffalo. That pretty much brings us to the present. Tomorrow I'll head for Jellystone NP, and will be sure to keep a close eye on my picanic basket. Looking forward to it.

Oh, having a blast, y'know. I'm really starting to cover some ground now. Be well, all of you.

More soon.

Andy

I'll apologize in advance: I've been really trigger happy with the camera lately. There are tons of pictures:

http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8AcMnLVq3aN2KV

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.

I hope you are all well. I miss you.

More soon.

Andy

To see pictures from this latest episode:

http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8AcMnLVq3aN2KE

tahquamenon falls

Ann Arbor, MI - A warm and clear night in Michigan, I'm pretty psyched about my super-yellow motel bathroom

(A quick preface: Apologies for the spacing in this post. No matter how many times I try to correct it, Blogger.com just will not let me put spaces between some of my paragraphs. Its extremely irritating to me.)

The last couple of days have brought some great sights. I'm up to my ears in baseball and movies, and I love it. Up amongst the northern rim of the country, the long solstice days are made even longer. These are the happy days.

After a gloomy and rainy night, I woke up Wednesday to a bright and sunny hot morning in Jamestown. Knowing I couldn't check into my Cleveland motel until 3pm, I loitered for a while and watched tv. Around noon I left the Comfort Inn and got back on westbound I-86. The short distance of New York left was lengthened by more road work. For seventeen miles, one entire side of the highway was closed. The traffic was diverted to the other side, bringing traffic down to about 40 mph. Sneh.

In Pennsylvania I got onto I-90 got my glimpse of the great lakes. Lake Erie looked deep blue, and still. It looked like the sea, but calm. Every once and a while I could catch other glances at the lake when up high and I passed pretty quickly into Ohio. The welcome sign said that there was "so much to discover". It took about another hour before I reached downtown Cleveland. I drove past the city skyline, the Cleveland Browns Stadium, and a big airport before reaching Lakewood. Lakewood is the town directly to the west of Cleveland. I spent a little while getting settled in my room, checked email, and figured out how to get to the game using public transit.

Around 5pm I took off on foot to the West Boulevard train station, about thirteen blocks away. It was a hot and somewhat humid evening. Good baseball weather. From the station I took the red line train downtown to Tower City, where Cleveland's tallest reside. In the public square outside there were statues and a centerpiece similar to the one at San Francisco's Union Square. I examined a city map for a minute and then walked a few blocks to Jacobs Field. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jacobs_Field)

Having been at Fenway Park last, Jacobs Field looked very new. The exterior of the stadium is made up of gleaming white metal beams set against light-beige and brown bricks. The stadium was originally opened in 1994. Next to it is the "Quicken Loans Arena", where the Cleveland Cavaliers play. What a lousy name for a sports arena, huh? The outside of the arena still had NBA Finals banners on display.

I did a tour of the entire stadium exterior looking for will call and then entered Gate B. From gate B you walk onto a big concrete porch which sits over the right field wall. You can walk over and grab the fole pole. Your're free to stand there and wait for a home run ball, if you like. I walked over to the tunnels. The inside of the park looked even newer. Giant monitors are everywhere, making sure you capture every detail of the game, no matter where you are. There's a giant central food-court of sorts on the ground floor behind first plate.

From there I took the stairs up to the top floor and found my seat. My seat was halfway up the nosebleed section, strait behind homeplate. I sat and enjoyed a beer and nachos, soaking up the park.

Jacobs Field is, for the most part, a perfect diamond shape. Its 325' to the left field pole, 370' to left center, 400' to dead center, 375' to right center, and 325' to the right field pole. However, it does have a 19' wall in left field, a sort of "mini-monster".

The game started and I remembered that Trot Nixon played for Cleveland. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trot_Nixon) Trot Nixon was originally drafted by the Red Sox in 1993, and played for them from 1996 to 2006. He was a member of the team that won it all in 2004, and the Red Sox fans miss him. I cheered extra loud for Trot. He ended up having a great night, going 3 for 4, with 2 RBIs.

In this game, Cleveland's C.C. Sabathia was pitted against Philadelphia's Jon Lieber. As the game progressed, it became clear that the game was no pitcher's duel. After a couple scoreless innings, the Phillies got a two run homer, which was answered by a couple Cleveland runs scored in the third and fourth innings.

In the top of the sixth, the phillies scored two runs. In the bottom of the sixth Cleveland opened up a can of whup-ass and scored eight runs. It was a hit parade and a real joy to watch. Amongst the cavalcade of runs, Trot Nixon hit a two-RBI double to deep right center, and I cheered very loudly. To make things even better, the out-of-town scoreboard reported that the Red Sox were up 7-0 against Atlanta. Apparently, Julian Tavarez was having a great night.

With the Cleveland game apparently decided, I wandered around Jacobs Field and hang out in the beer garden behind center field. There's a mini Hall of Fame back there for Cleveland's greatest, which included Cy Young.

I was sure to get back to my seat on time for the seventh inning stretch. It didn't seemed as though the Cleveland crowd was very enthusiastic about singing "Take Me Out To The Ballgame." I kept my routing for the Red Sox down to a murmur. After that, the scoring stopped and Cleveland won the game 10-6. I took the red line back to Lakewood and met a very nice and vocal kitty walking back to the motel. I gave Diane a call and we caught up a bit on a few things. Oh man, I can't wait to get back.

This morning I slept in until 9:30 or so, missing the complimentary breakfast. Doh! I slowly packed while watching the weather channel and cruising the internet. Around noon I drove over to a local coffeeshop called Caribou Coffee. I reviewed the road atlas, plotting my way back to I-90.

On another hot and sunny day I drove the white wonder to Toledo and then north into Michigan. Along the way I met with a brief thunderstorm which slowed the traffic down to about 25 mph. not able to see more then 10-15 feet in front of me, I'd give the Acura encouragement, "Go Integra Go!" Once in Michigan, it was clear and sunny again. I called up Sufjan Stevens on the iPod. The welcome sign read "Michigan: Great Lakes, Great Times." Oh brother.

Halfway to Ann Arbor, I noticed a Bob's Big Boy and decided to stop for an early dinner. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bob%27s_Big_Boy) Up until then, all I knew about Bob's was that they made a delicious blue cheese dressing and that they had a prominent nod in Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery. Bob's Big Boy restaurants are run in a way very similar to Denny's. I ordered a Big Bleu Burger. With fries. I was first served a little dish of cole slaw, which was delicious. It had a hint of horseradish to it.

The burger they served me, however, was intimidating.

The patty itself had to be more than a half-pound of ground beef. It hung over the lower bun by a half-inch or so all around. On top of the patty was mozarella, cheddar, blue cheese, and sauteed mushrooms. Smothered in ketchup, the burger was impossible to eat politely. I had to get my hands, and face, dirty. In the end I finished the burger, but I wasn't proud of myself. Mostly, the tremendous amount of cheese weighed upon me. The food served at Bob's Big Boy is a cardiologist's worst nightmare. In an era where other fast-food chains are reducing portions and serving fruit, its good to know that Bob's Big Boy is sticking to its guns, nurturing our nation's rising obesity crisis. I will never go to another Bob's Big Boy, but I will keep buying their blue cheese dressing.

A half hour later I reached the Lamp Post Inn in sunny Ann Arbor. While I did not appreciate the room's aqua, pink, and white wallpaper, I loved the yellow-tiled bathroom. It was a lavatory filled with sunshine.

I uploaded a few pictures and then drove my three remaining bundles of Arizona firewood over to downtown Ann Arbor. I was wowed by the University of Michigan campus.

When I was 17 or so, my folks took me on a summer tour of college campuses in the northeast. I remember most vividly our time in Philadelphia. During our stay the temperature was around 100 degrees, and the humidity was about 100%. Any time spent outside of air conditioning was torture. I walked away vowing to never go to school in Phili. It was only when driving back from the tour that I noticed signs for Rutgers on the Jersey Turnpike. I looked the school up in my Barrons book and suggested we check it out. It was a warm and sunny day in New Brunswick, and the campus was empty. I loved it and applied. It interesting to me that such a giant direction in my life was taken as the result of an unplanned stop on a roadtrip.

If I had stopped in Ann Arbor during that trip, I'm pretty sure I would have wanted to go to Michigan instead. Thank god I didn't. I can only imagine how brutal the winters would be here, with all the lake effect snow and all.

ANYWAY, I parked the Integra at a garage and walked over to the Michigan Theater. The theater has an attractive front, with a giant blue vertical "Michigan" sign alongside an all black marque, with white lettering. I liked the inverted look. I walked around the block to explore abit before the movie. Just half a block down the street is another prominent movie theater, "The State".

Entering the lobby, I quickly realized that the Michigan was a very ornate theater. it was very classic looking. The moldings were intricate. Passing the snack bar, you enter a larger two-story hallway, which offers the entrance to the floor seating and a grand staircase leading to the balcony. The arched ceiling above was set with a honeycomb of hexagons set in gold. Giant chandeliers hung from it, and I was reminded of the beginning party scene of Kubrick's Eyes Wide Shut.

I skipped up to the second floor and snapped pictures. The place was gorgeous, bigger than the Tampa, but similar in layout. Then organ started, and a smile came across my face. After so many films watched at the Castro Theatre, I can't help but smile when I hear a pipe organ in a theater. It felt a little like home. The organist was talented. Every song played was done quickly. She played tunes from Indiana Jones, showing off the organ's percussion abilities. The giant instrument is a 1927 Barton Theater Pipe Organ. It sounded full, and heavy at times.

After going upstairs and downstairs a couple times, I decided the best view of the film was in the floor seating, about 20-25 rows from the front. Unlike the Tampa, the Michigan balcony is fairly distant from the screen.

After a number of hurried pictures, I took my seat and watched "Once", for the second time. I'd seen the film already in Montclair, NJ, with Jay and Kelly. I enjoyed the movie even more wacthing it again, though. "Once" is a low-budget indie flick from Ireland. While I don't like the fact that it was shot in DV, the movie is an affective modern musical.

After the film, I walked over to the lobby of the Michigan's second screen. There's a second, smaller screen in the back of the building. In the hallway/ramp leading there, there are tidbits of Ann Arbor history along the walls. I peaked into the rear screen and caught fifteen seconds of "Day Watch". (B+) Walking away from the theater, I kept humming the "Once" soundtrack to myself. I'm going to have to pick that one up.

The Michigan Theater was a joy to visit. I've been trying to assemble movie-palace superlatives list, but I can't put any one theater at the top. Save the Uptown, each palace I've seen has been beautiful and unique.

Not ready to head back, I took a stroll on a warm Ann Arbor night over to the University of Michigan campus and discovered a summer festival. A crowd had assembled in front of a large outdoor movie screen. They were watching Mission Impossible 3. I was tempted to sit down amongst them and make it a movie marathon night...

No, no, I have a blog to write, dammit.

I drove back to The Lamp Post with the windows down and the sunroof back. The warm air smelled rich. Summery, even.

Tomorrow I'll take I-94 all the way to Chicago, strait to "US Celluar Field" to see the Cubs take on the White Sox. Nothing like a little cross-town rivalry.

Here I come.

More soon.

Andy

To see all the Ohio and Michigan pictures:

http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8AcMnLVq3aN2J7