We wake at 6 and pack for a long day. Well, we woke and packed, the rest came to us later. Tom drove the hour to get to Lake McDonald inside West Glacier NP, hoping to catch an early bus up to Logan's Pass. While approaching the lake we pass a shuttle, and it happens to be our shuttle and to catch we must hurry to the pick-up, which no one knows where it lies. As we pull into the parking lot, there are around 6-7 people waiting at a corner, and we assume this is the pick-up and hurry to it. Turns out, as the shuttle comes by, this is not the pick-up, he just missed his turn and only has room for 3. As the people there start to explain that they have been waiting an hour for a bus because they were misinformed as to the whereabouts of the shuttle pick-up, we assume they are all mostly together and won't fill the 3 seats because they won't want to spit up their crew. We were wrong in this assumption...and now Jeff and I have a price on our heads and Tom, of course, has gotten away scott-free from the angered, lone hiker who we displaced on the first shuttle-run. Let's just hope we don't see him again!
So we ride up to the pass on a tiny little road made in the late 20's. It was really impressive for being that old. We climbed and we climbed, up to Logan's Pass. Once off the shuttle, we started on the Hidden Lake Trail. Here is a little video of the beginning:
I was out of breath from the altitude and the running we were doing. We jogged the last half of the trail down to Hidden Lake, crossed a little river, and circled around to the south side of the lake. Which turns out to be encircled with cliffs. Our Backpacker "Wildest Day hikes in America" guide did not tell us exactly where to go. So as we hike further and further into the dead-end that is the south side of the lake, we see a small window of hope: a waterfall in the southwest corner of the cirque.
Still, the outcome looks bleak. Even if we get through the waterfall, there is no guarantee that we can still scramble up the cleft in the cliff that is hidden from our view. It is a gamble, and we figure we can get a little wet...so we do. The water was...let's just say all the cold showers for the rest of my life have nothing to worry about; they won't even get close. And lo, the cleft was only a class 4 scramble and we were out. Before us lay the biggest, greenest, wettest(?) meadow we have ever seen. Glacier run-off fed scores of tiny streams and created a lush, vibrant underbrush and alpine grass meadow. After doing our best Sound of Music impressions (Jeff's, admittedly, is better than mine), we ate some lunch. I did not eat enough, this would come back to bite me in the arse*.
So we climb to the continental divide (albeit, a little too far to the east). We encounter a large, 2000+ foot cliff. It was surprising in the least, considering we thought we were going to be heading that direction (oh Backpacker, again!). We head back south down the divide and find a point to "drop" into Floral Park. If we had enough of a running start, we probably could have fallen the full 2000 feet right into the park. Instead, once we go down around 500 vertical, we clear the trees and decide to traverse the hill to avoid dropping 300 or so and having to climb it again...
Bad Idea. With Capital Letters. We learned our lesson that day: climbing up and down off trail is 1000 times better than attempted a multi-mile traverse of 40+ degree slopes. We will never forget this lesson, for the pain runs too deep to be washed away by any means.
Once this lesson was learned, we climbed down to Floral Park, and then back up to the glacial plateau that Sperry Glacier was perched upon. At about this time, disaster struck. We had noticed earlier at the Divide that we were taking a long time getting anywhere off trail in this wilderness. Suddenly it was 2pm, and we were completely exposed on the glacier, at 8000+ feet, with no ability to find cover if any storm where to come upon us. But, that was not the worst part.
Have you ever seen a star athlete cramp up and you just yell at the screen, "Suck it up! I have had cramps in sports before and I just dealt with it!" Well, I now know how it is to have debilitating cramps. Both my quads seized up fully, and no matter how hard I tried to force my way through, it was just not happening. So I rested about 5 minutes and took in some Gatorade, ate some fruit and jerky, and my legs felt better. For another 10 minutes. Then the same thing all over again. 5 min rest and eat and drink, 10 minutes of hiking, cramps again. This went on for a long time. I am stubborn, I refused to admit to injury and just kept forcing myself forwards. After about an hour of slow progress, I finally found a rhythm that allowed me to eat, drink, and walk with only mild cramping. So I went forwards, as time went forwards, in a crawl. Not literally, but effectively enough. 4 o'clock comes and goes, and we are a hundred yards from Corneau Pass. We have seen the thunderstorms building since 3. We blitz the top. The storms pass over us to our North, and we are, for the moment, safe.
Real quick, I know you have been reading a while (hell, we hiked a while, I just am trying to give you a taste of the pain), I would like to tell you a little about when to hike up to a peak or other exposed place like a ridge or a pass: do not attempt to hike up if there are storm clouds coming. Out West, pretty much anytime after 1 and before 6 is off limits. So imagine our surprise when we see 3 groups of people attempting to hike to Corneau Pass when there are storm clouds above. We justify our climb because we had really no choice and had to get off the mountain, but these people were day hiking! Anyhow, do not climb above 8000 feet on exposed ground where there are storm clouds above, it is a bad idea.
So then we start our long, harrowing 10 mile hike out of the park. It was all downhill. Our feet were soaked from snow, runoff, and sweat by this time and had what can only be called trench foot. Every step was painful, and we were totally exhausted. This is also when we had the most danger for running into Grizzly bears. Because the trail was so heavily vegetated, we ran the risk of startling a bear if we were to happen upon it. It was also dusk, so visibility was poor, and we could not see a bear off trail even though we were looking. So we made up "bear songs." Basically, normal songs where bear was substituted for random words. Once we were too tired to attempt these mutterings, we would just yell "BEAR!" before every switchback in hopes of alerting any non-informed bear of our approach.
Eventually, we arrive back at the car: bruised, bleeding (I cut my ankle pretty bad on a rock on the glacier), and totally wasted. We then decided not to drive all the way to Seattle that night, and to find a hotel in Kellispiell, MT. First, don't ever get a hotel there in the height of tourist season, because you can't anyway. Second, do get one because they are all staffed by really attractive teenage woman. The long search for a hotel--which we eventually found--was well worth seeing all the good looking help. Sleep was glorious, the shower was better, and I even got a cot for free....God bless Montana.
*for you, Mother
Day Six: Yogi Jellystone
Woke up to a nice, home cooked breakfast in the Wind River range. We hit the road around 8 or so, a little later than we had the previous days, and made our way towards the Grand Tetons. Now, you would think that during the height of tourist season, road construction on the main road to the Tetons and Yellowstone would be at least efficient, much less somewhat convenient for the travelling tourist. But, alas, this was not the case. It took FOREVER to get even near the Tetons, which, of course, puts us back in my timetable (I don't understand it, everyone knows we have 10,000 miles to go in 25 days on this trip, but time for some reason is not a factor, and they are not willing to drive all night...we'll see...).
So we get there, pay too much for bear spay (again, saw that coming), and hit the Jenny Lake loop trail. This trail leads to Hidden Falls and Inspiration Point. We are hiking much faster than most the people there, stopping only once to take a closer look at the fattest marmot we have ever seen. Then after a short stint to the falls and the point, we jump onto the ferry that takes us back across Jenny Lake to save us an hour's hike, and hit the road to Yellowstone.
Yellowstone is huge. Really huge. Yellowstone has a park-wide 45 mph speed limit...or less, when indicated. This means it takes a long time to get through the park. Luckily the first place we hit, Old Faithful, is on our timetable and we see the ever cyclical eruption within minutes of our arrival...we move on to see many more geysers, springs, pots, mud puddles, and slow tourists to fill any vacation.
We then drive all night to Glacier NP, Montana. On the way we stop by a Walmart to find bear bells, where we learn that they are not only ineffective, but almost dangerous to wear. Good things to know considering Tom and I already had ours and were planning on wearing them. We are told to just sing and talk loudly instead, and will be able to use this advice soon enough. It is 2am when we arrive at the "campsite." It is an RV site, the only real "camping" Americans do these days apparently, so there are no spots for our tents, and we set up at the picnic table, in bear country. Needless to say we did not sleep well that night...
So we get there, pay too much for bear spay (again, saw that coming), and hit the Jenny Lake loop trail. This trail leads to Hidden Falls and Inspiration Point. We are hiking much faster than most the people there, stopping only once to take a closer look at the fattest marmot we have ever seen. Then after a short stint to the falls and the point, we jump onto the ferry that takes us back across Jenny Lake to save us an hour's hike, and hit the road to Yellowstone.
Yellowstone is huge. Really huge. Yellowstone has a park-wide 45 mph speed limit...or less, when indicated. This means it takes a long time to get through the park. Luckily the first place we hit, Old Faithful, is on our timetable and we see the ever cyclical eruption within minutes of our arrival...we move on to see many more geysers, springs, pots, mud puddles, and slow tourists to fill any vacation.
We then drive all night to Glacier NP, Montana. On the way we stop by a Walmart to find bear bells, where we learn that they are not only ineffective, but almost dangerous to wear. Good things to know considering Tom and I already had ours and were planning on wearing them. We are told to just sing and talk loudly instead, and will be able to use this advice soon enough. It is 2am when we arrive at the "campsite." It is an RV site, the only real "camping" Americans do these days apparently, so there are no spots for our tents, and we set up at the picnic table, in bear country. Needless to say we did not sleep well that night...
Day Five: Next of Kin
Did you know that the sun rises at 4am in the Badlands? Well, we learned quick, but that was okay with us, cause we got an hour head start on the day. Packed up camp, drove an hour to the trail head, and started hiking in the Badlands Palmer Creek unit by 6am. Our first hiking excursion was an omen for the rest of the trips in the coming days (or, it should have been seen that way from the start. Hindsight is good for these things). After a few miles of anxious hiking, waiting to “drop into the belly of the beast” according to our hiking guide (oh Backpacker, we have to talk!), we decide to follow a creek bed into the hills. After climbing the first “hill” and scraping ourselves up getting down, a whole new world lay ahead of us. Well, another valley and another ridge line of rock that needed to be scaled. And another. And another. For as far as we could see, this is all the Badlands were—ridges of seemingly impassible (and actually impassible, later) rock that went on forever. Eventually, we climbed the largest one we found, hoping to see if we could continue in that direction. Alas, we could not, because everything looked like a cliff, because it was. Cliffs. Everywhere. So, while debating a course of action: choose a cliff to go down to continue, go back, or find another route. Well, in the course of this decision, Jeff chooses to try a cliff that looks passable for at least the first half...but the rest was pretty sketchy. Jeff assured us he could make it. Well, about halfway across the traverse, Jeff started to slide, and to our horror, he slid about 6 feet, digging his elbows and knees and hands in the rock, leaving him with many scratches. Well, at the end of the slide, we realized no one could help him back up or down...he was now on his own.
This became a huge divide for us. We could not help him without seriously putting ourselves in danger. So we encouraged him to climb his way out to the ridge line, then down to us. Which he did, and we were all very grateful because if he were not able to do this, we don't know exactly what we would have done, for he would have been stuck wilth cliffs all around him. Well, live and learn, right?
At this point we realize we have already been hiking several hours, and need to turn around to be able to stay on time, but more importantly to beat the storm back to our car. We get sprinkled on a little, but all in all make it back okay, and then it was on to Mt. Rushmore.
Mt. Rushmore: you've seen it, we've seen it. Moving on.
8 hour drive to Wind River Range in Wyoming to Momma and Bubba Sparks cabin, which has the best front yard of all time. Seriously right in the Wind River range. Drank and passed out...long day.
This became a huge divide for us. We could not help him without seriously putting ourselves in danger. So we encouraged him to climb his way out to the ridge line, then down to us. Which he did, and we were all very grateful because if he were not able to do this, we don't know exactly what we would have done, for he would have been stuck wilth cliffs all around him. Well, live and learn, right?
At this point we realize we have already been hiking several hours, and need to turn around to be able to stay on time, but more importantly to beat the storm back to our car. We get sprinkled on a little, but all in all make it back okay, and then it was on to Mt. Rushmore.
Mt. Rushmore: you've seen it, we've seen it. Moving on.
8 hour drive to Wind River Range in Wyoming to Momma and Bubba Sparks cabin, which has the best front yard of all time. Seriously right in the Wind River range. Drank and passed out...long day.
Day Four: Ta Tonka!
We leave Chicago at 7am on our way to the Badlands, SD. I-90 is not too bad to drive down, as long as it is not in Wisconsin. For some reason, there were more waterparks there than I have ever seen in my entire life. I thought it was cold there most of the year...things don't always make sense in this great nation of ours. Including the fact that there was more traffic in that state than in any other state. For no reason. The people on that road had, in all honesty, no reason to be there. Well, at least no apparent reason. Hours of bumper-to-bumper traffic on I-90 in Wisconsin. What more can I say?
It is no surprise to those who drive through Minnesota and South Dakota that we are the bread basket of the World. That is all there is: corn and hay and wheat. Not much to say here, except that they harvest the grass on the side of the roads out there, which is pretty cool.
Oh yeah, and in South Dakota we visited the CORN PALACE!! Please try to get the severity with which I am trying to convey this point. WE VISITED THE MOTHER-F*&%#@ CORN PALACE!!!! What is the Corn Palace you ask? Well, first off you should already know, there is only one in the ENTIRE WORLD. Second, how many palaces in the United States do you know of? None, because you don’t know anything if you don’t know about the Corn Palace.
It is lame. Really, really lame. Because of this, it is awesome. People come from miles around to see how lame it is. They are not disappointed. The entire front is has a façade made of corn, scenes and words and phrases spelled out in corn ears. They change it every year. They don’t say it is because the corn rots, but that is why. We now rate everything in terms of “Corn Palaces.” Chicago traffic, for example, is a 1 of 10 Corn Palaces, while Steve Miller was a 6 of 10 Corn Palaces. We bought t-shirts and postcards.
Moving on. Driving. Lots of it. We arrive at Wall Drug at 8pm, right outside of the Badlands. The water was terrible, they advertised it for miles: Free Ice Water! Only at Wall Drug! The water was terrible. It was worth repeating.
Mostly because we totally filled around 6 gallons of water capacity for our next few days’ worth of adventures in the Badlands and beyond. So we leave Wall Drug and grab a National Parks Pass at the gate of the Badlands. We drive through sunset and see some of the most beautiful sculpted landscapes we have ever seen...suddenly we see what shall shape our trip to South Dakota forever: Bison. Ta Tonka. Just one solitary male Bison is standing on the side of the road. We freak out and start attempting to take pictures, but the light quality is too poor and no one is able to get a good picture. We start to move on because there is another car approaching, when suddenly, just around the next bend, BAM! an entire herd of Bison is just standing in the road—and won’t move. We are not in a huge car, and there are around 50 of them, just staring at us, face to face, in an almost true-to-life Mexican standoff. We quickly abandoned trying to take pictures, and moved on to video. We sound like frightened little kids, because that is what we are. We all have visions of our car being crushed by thousands of pounds of Turner Burgers. For some inexplicable reason, the Bison would not move for our car, so we let a truck pass and urge them to let the vehicles pass. Following their lead, we pushed through a second herd right outside of the campsite. Here is a video of the first herd;
(Note: Foul language only because of absurdity of situation, and better video could not be uploaded to youtube.com because it was too large. If you prefer the other Bison video to this one, take it up with youtube.com, not me)
We found the first open “site” which consisted of a lean-to and a picnic table. Once we set up our tents…
Jeff purchased a two person JUNIOR tent. That’s right, a child’s tent. He did not even realize it until setting it up, and realized it looked a little small. Well, apparently he fits in it fine, which only confirms our theory that he is just a large child. But not really, we just can't help ourselves...
…and then sleep for the next long day.
It is no surprise to those who drive through Minnesota and South Dakota that we are the bread basket of the World. That is all there is: corn and hay and wheat. Not much to say here, except that they harvest the grass on the side of the roads out there, which is pretty cool.
Oh yeah, and in South Dakota we visited the CORN PALACE!! Please try to get the severity with which I am trying to convey this point. WE VISITED THE MOTHER-F*&%#@ CORN PALACE!!!! What is the Corn Palace you ask? Well, first off you should already know, there is only one in the ENTIRE WORLD. Second, how many palaces in the United States do you know of? None, because you don’t know anything if you don’t know about the Corn Palace.
It is lame. Really, really lame. Because of this, it is awesome. People come from miles around to see how lame it is. They are not disappointed. The entire front is has a façade made of corn, scenes and words and phrases spelled out in corn ears. They change it every year. They don’t say it is because the corn rots, but that is why. We now rate everything in terms of “Corn Palaces.” Chicago traffic, for example, is a 1 of 10 Corn Palaces, while Steve Miller was a 6 of 10 Corn Palaces. We bought t-shirts and postcards.
Moving on. Driving. Lots of it. We arrive at Wall Drug at 8pm, right outside of the Badlands. The water was terrible, they advertised it for miles: Free Ice Water! Only at Wall Drug! The water was terrible. It was worth repeating.
Mostly because we totally filled around 6 gallons of water capacity for our next few days’ worth of adventures in the Badlands and beyond. So we leave Wall Drug and grab a National Parks Pass at the gate of the Badlands. We drive through sunset and see some of the most beautiful sculpted landscapes we have ever seen...suddenly we see what shall shape our trip to South Dakota forever: Bison. Ta Tonka. Just one solitary male Bison is standing on the side of the road. We freak out and start attempting to take pictures, but the light quality is too poor and no one is able to get a good picture. We start to move on because there is another car approaching, when suddenly, just around the next bend, BAM! an entire herd of Bison is just standing in the road—and won’t move. We are not in a huge car, and there are around 50 of them, just staring at us, face to face, in an almost true-to-life Mexican standoff. We quickly abandoned trying to take pictures, and moved on to video. We sound like frightened little kids, because that is what we are. We all have visions of our car being crushed by thousands of pounds of Turner Burgers. For some inexplicable reason, the Bison would not move for our car, so we let a truck pass and urge them to let the vehicles pass. Following their lead, we pushed through a second herd right outside of the campsite. Here is a video of the first herd;
(Note: Foul language only because of absurdity of situation, and better video could not be uploaded to youtube.com because it was too large. If you prefer the other Bison video to this one, take it up with youtube.com, not me)
We found the first open “site” which consisted of a lean-to and a picnic table. Once we set up our tents…
Jeff purchased a two person JUNIOR tent. That’s right, a child’s tent. He did not even realize it until setting it up, and realized it looked a little small. Well, apparently he fits in it fine, which only confirms our theory that he is just a large child. But not really, we just can't help ourselves...
…and then sleep for the next long day.
Day Three: It’s Miller Time!
I can’t help myself with these puns…oh well, live with it. We left Michigan at around 10am to start our traffic-filled driving time in Chicago! After what seems like a year’s worth of driving (thanks to you, Jeff) we make it to downtown Chicago and park right by Lake Michigan. We walk towards downtown for a bit, at which point tom breaks his camera somehow, and of course, in true Tom fashion, gets impatient with it and smashes it against his hand and truly breaks it. It may be been fixable beforehand, but now it is beyond repair. So, after lunch at a little no-name pizza restaurant that is filled with mafia and undercover agents (and is freezing as well, but no connection to the mob I think), we make our way through the Chicago Stock Exchange and on towards the Sears Tower. After a long, unneeded wait in line for a fairly lame movie intro, it was on to the elevator to go up 103 floors. Well, you can see a lot from 1000 feet off the deck…but nothing really worth seeing in my opinion. That is the last tall building I pay to go to the top of. After taking several pictures, we make our way back to the car via an alternate route to see more of Chicago, which seems like it could be an interesting city to live in, but not if you have to commute.
I cannot stress this enough: traffic in Chicago blows. It sucks. It sucks and blows. Never, ever, drive to Chicago. I don’t know how else you are going to get there (besides by lake, which is not a bad idea), but do not drive to get to Chicago. Ok, I think I have made my point.
So, we wasted a few hours to take pictures of Jeff in front of his childhood home and park, I mean we wasted around 4 hours to take around 6 pictures. It was his hometown, ok, I get it. REALLY, I do. We will be driving MINUTES from my hometown, but why go there? I lived there 12 years ago, I know what it looked like then, Google EarthTM can show me what it looks like today…I don’t understand it. But, with 4 hours wasted and a timeline quickly approaching, we made our way to North Chicago, got dinner and beer and made it to Stephanie’s (Rebecca’s friend) house just in time to make it to the train downtown.
Ok, now let’s rant together on bad directions. Or, may I say, poorly designed cities. It should not take more than 10 turns off an interstate to make it to one’s house. Ok, 15 at most, but that is pushing it. It took 16 turns to make it to Stephanie’s house, and from there to the train took at least 15 more. Screw the sprawl! Thus endeth this rant.
So, the train’s destination you ask? Well, to Steve Miller Band of course! (and for those of you diligent readers out there, the title of this post has made itself evident to you, without the benefit of this little reminder) The venue was like nothing I have ever seen in NC, not to say it does not exist. We packed a cooler with two cases of beer, salsa, and brought some chips. We walk in and there are several thousand people sitting around in a huge flat lawn, all with coolers and blankets and chairs. Everyone is partying. Does not matter the age, everyone is having a good time, and as the night progresses, the good times only continued at a higher level. We could not actually see the band, because they played in an amphitheater pit that was below the lawn level, but due to a huge system of outdoor speakers, we could all enjoy the band from our lawn party. Near the end of the night, the classic Dance Party broke out, and the 10 or so of us (including Steph’s friends that we met there) danced to “Dance, Dance, Dance” and then we get a ride to a house party that was held by one of the guys there. Decent party, we walked home, I pass out immediately. If you want to know the rest, ask them.
I cannot stress this enough: traffic in Chicago blows. It sucks. It sucks and blows. Never, ever, drive to Chicago. I don’t know how else you are going to get there (besides by lake, which is not a bad idea), but do not drive to get to Chicago. Ok, I think I have made my point.
So, we wasted a few hours to take pictures of Jeff in front of his childhood home and park, I mean we wasted around 4 hours to take around 6 pictures. It was his hometown, ok, I get it. REALLY, I do. We will be driving MINUTES from my hometown, but why go there? I lived there 12 years ago, I know what it looked like then, Google EarthTM can show me what it looks like today…I don’t understand it. But, with 4 hours wasted and a timeline quickly approaching, we made our way to North Chicago, got dinner and beer and made it to Stephanie’s (Rebecca’s friend) house just in time to make it to the train downtown.
Ok, now let’s rant together on bad directions. Or, may I say, poorly designed cities. It should not take more than 10 turns off an interstate to make it to one’s house. Ok, 15 at most, but that is pushing it. It took 16 turns to make it to Stephanie’s house, and from there to the train took at least 15 more. Screw the sprawl! Thus endeth this rant.
So, the train’s destination you ask? Well, to Steve Miller Band of course! (and for those of you diligent readers out there, the title of this post has made itself evident to you, without the benefit of this little reminder) The venue was like nothing I have ever seen in NC, not to say it does not exist. We packed a cooler with two cases of beer, salsa, and brought some chips. We walk in and there are several thousand people sitting around in a huge flat lawn, all with coolers and blankets and chairs. Everyone is partying. Does not matter the age, everyone is having a good time, and as the night progresses, the good times only continued at a higher level. We could not actually see the band, because they played in an amphitheater pit that was below the lawn level, but due to a huge system of outdoor speakers, we could all enjoy the band from our lawn party. Near the end of the night, the classic Dance Party broke out, and the 10 or so of us (including Steph’s friends that we met there) danced to “Dance, Dance, Dance” and then we get a ride to a house party that was held by one of the guys there. Decent party, we walked home, I pass out immediately. If you want to know the rest, ask them.
Day Two: The Tubes
Ha, more "not's"....this one is not referring to the so named band, but instead describes the day in one word: tubes. Lots of 'em, all day, at high speed. If you have not caught on yet, we went tubing a lot. My day when somewhat differently then the rest, so for their story, ask them, duh!
The first part of my day started with waking up and seeing sunrise over the lake, then sleeping until 8 and getting the boat ready to ride. Once everyone else was up, breakfast was eaten, and we all (the four main characters, and the three sisters) waited for Tom's Uncle to show, for he was our chauffeur for the day. After Tom and I ran two very successful knee-board runs (while the rest of the people where on the pontoon boat) I put my full weight down onto an up-turned screw point that drove straight into my knee-cap. It hurt a little, and bled more. So I assisted Kim (the eldest sister) in returning the pontoon to the dock while the others ran a few runs on the knee-board. Once we all got back together, a long round of tubing began. At one point, Jeff and I were on one tube, while Kim was on another. Jeff had never tubed before, Kim was apparently the master, and I had shorts on that came off in the slightest breeze. So, it was interesting. Lots of slipping, flipping, and ripping as we three tubed along. But, alas, this had to end so I could embark on a solo excursion to see Dave Rybacki, a good friend of mine as a former Crew Leader at Philmont and I was his ranger.
I left the lake house at 12:15, en route to St. Joseph, MI. 45 minutes later, I am parked outside a 9,000 sq. ft. house which sits right on Lake Michigan. Dave greets me with a smile and shows me around the bottom floor and his wing of the house. That's right, not just his room, his wing of the house. Full size living room, fully functional kitchen, accessible from the garage, full bath and master-bedroom size bedroom...Huge to put a nice word for it. Excessive to put a different tone on it. So, after a while there, we head to Chili's, where we talk politics, war, guns, mercenaries, and hot waitresses (St. Jo's did not have the same lack of women as all of Ohio...go figure). Along the way, we had Presidential Margaritas with a kicker of Disaronno, which made the drink oh so smooth. I will never go back. Then, after a short ride back to his house in his tricked-out Jeep Wrangler, we toured his neighborhood on the golf cart, then I had to head back for dinner. Oh yeah, did I mention he is living there by himself because it is only his family's lake house? I think I like the Shack better, but for different reasons...
Once back at the Grandparent's place, more knee-boarding ensued. The board was so old that the Velcro no longer worked, so I did a run without the strap, which was interesting in its own right. But then came dinner, with awesome chicken and salad, which was just what the doctor ordered. Once dinner was over, the Tube Wars commenced, pitting man vs. man and man. vs woman for the undisputed tube championship. Two tubes enter, one tube leaves (with a person still on it, cause both tubes technically still leave together...) Tom proved himself to be the champ, but I still held my own even with pants that fell off every round and throwing up the dinner I stuffed myself with.
Well, after the wars, ice cream was served and most people went to bed very quickly compared to the past few nights...except for your loyal narrator, who diligently stayed awake to bring you this story, with little concern for his own welfare. But don't let that get you down, dear reader, for I am going to see Chicago (the city) and Steve Miller Band (the band) tomorrow in concert, so I think I will survive!
The first part of my day started with waking up and seeing sunrise over the lake, then sleeping until 8 and getting the boat ready to ride. Once everyone else was up, breakfast was eaten, and we all (the four main characters, and the three sisters) waited for Tom's Uncle to show, for he was our chauffeur for the day. After Tom and I ran two very successful knee-board runs (while the rest of the people where on the pontoon boat) I put my full weight down onto an up-turned screw point that drove straight into my knee-cap. It hurt a little, and bled more. So I assisted Kim (the eldest sister) in returning the pontoon to the dock while the others ran a few runs on the knee-board. Once we all got back together, a long round of tubing began. At one point, Jeff and I were on one tube, while Kim was on another. Jeff had never tubed before, Kim was apparently the master, and I had shorts on that came off in the slightest breeze. So, it was interesting. Lots of slipping, flipping, and ripping as we three tubed along. But, alas, this had to end so I could embark on a solo excursion to see Dave Rybacki, a good friend of mine as a former Crew Leader at Philmont and I was his ranger.
I left the lake house at 12:15, en route to St. Joseph, MI. 45 minutes later, I am parked outside a 9,000 sq. ft. house which sits right on Lake Michigan. Dave greets me with a smile and shows me around the bottom floor and his wing of the house. That's right, not just his room, his wing of the house. Full size living room, fully functional kitchen, accessible from the garage, full bath and master-bedroom size bedroom...Huge to put a nice word for it. Excessive to put a different tone on it. So, after a while there, we head to Chili's, where we talk politics, war, guns, mercenaries, and hot waitresses (St. Jo's did not have the same lack of women as all of Ohio...go figure). Along the way, we had Presidential Margaritas with a kicker of Disaronno, which made the drink oh so smooth. I will never go back. Then, after a short ride back to his house in his tricked-out Jeep Wrangler, we toured his neighborhood on the golf cart, then I had to head back for dinner. Oh yeah, did I mention he is living there by himself because it is only his family's lake house? I think I like the Shack better, but for different reasons...
Once back at the Grandparent's place, more knee-boarding ensued. The board was so old that the Velcro no longer worked, so I did a run without the strap, which was interesting in its own right. But then came dinner, with awesome chicken and salad, which was just what the doctor ordered. Once dinner was over, the Tube Wars commenced, pitting man vs. man and man. vs woman for the undisputed tube championship. Two tubes enter, one tube leaves (with a person still on it, cause both tubes technically still leave together...) Tom proved himself to be the champ, but I still held my own even with pants that fell off every round and throwing up the dinner I stuffed myself with.
Well, after the wars, ice cream was served and most people went to bed very quickly compared to the past few nights...except for your loyal narrator, who diligently stayed awake to bring you this story, with little concern for his own welfare. But don't let that get you down, dear reader, for I am going to see Chicago (the city) and Steve Miller Band (the band) tomorrow in concert, so I think I will survive!
Day One: The Drive
No, not the classic Elway miracle...but close. We hit the road at an astonishing 4am, meaning we left on time for once. I opted to drive the first leg of the trip, which we decided to have each "leg" mean a tank of gas...or every 340 miles or so.
Dawn approached on my favorite part of I-77, right in the beginning of the mountains, where all of Eastern North Carolina lies at your feet, with the sun peeking through the clouds at 6am. Once the first tank of gas was through, we pulled into a Hardee's in West Virgina, right down the road from the much discussed and oft remembered Southern Exposure (every spring break we talk about going, and somehow never do). Up to this point, only Tom and I have been awake. Jeff and Rebecca have slept likes babes in the back. So, as we eat our breakfast and discuss the copious amount of sleeping that is occurring in the back seat, Jeff lets out this little nugget of wisdom concerning his role on this trip: "On this trip, I am going to just wake up, do something stupid, and go back to sleep...sounds like the rest of my life so far..." Of course, we rolled over laughing, not just because it is funny, but because he feels it is mostly true. Ahhh, college life...
Anyhow, back on the road, rain. Rain. And more rain. During the first half of Ohio (a deceptively large state, apparently) rain was coming down so hard that it was forcing the weak off the road. After Akron, however, the sun came out and and was azure skies and Simpson's clouds all the way to Michigan.
(Side note about Ohio: the people are ugly as Hell. Ugly as sin. Ugly as yo momma. No kidding, not a hot girl in sight, and we were in the state for 6 hours, not including eating lunch in the most disgusting Wendy's ever. Just a heads up for all those planning on driving through this God-forsaken place.)
Once at Tom's Grandparent's house (which is huge, on a lake, and masterfully built and decorated...I wish it was mine) dinner was amazing. Nothing like a home cooked meal to feed the soul. Tom's Aunt and Uncle came by with their 3 daughters, who where the nicest, most energetic sisters I have ever met. After a great dinner and a long, intense, and physical game of Spoons, Tom, Jeff, and I relaxed in the study downstairs, drank a beer, then immediately passed out, eagerly awaiting the 8am wake-up call for breakfast and a day on the lake.
Dawn approached on my favorite part of I-77, right in the beginning of the mountains, where all of Eastern North Carolina lies at your feet, with the sun peeking through the clouds at 6am. Once the first tank of gas was through, we pulled into a Hardee's in West Virgina, right down the road from the much discussed and oft remembered Southern Exposure (every spring break we talk about going, and somehow never do). Up to this point, only Tom and I have been awake. Jeff and Rebecca have slept likes babes in the back. So, as we eat our breakfast and discuss the copious amount of sleeping that is occurring in the back seat, Jeff lets out this little nugget of wisdom concerning his role on this trip: "On this trip, I am going to just wake up, do something stupid, and go back to sleep...sounds like the rest of my life so far..." Of course, we rolled over laughing, not just because it is funny, but because he feels it is mostly true. Ahhh, college life...
Anyhow, back on the road, rain. Rain. And more rain. During the first half of Ohio (a deceptively large state, apparently) rain was coming down so hard that it was forcing the weak off the road. After Akron, however, the sun came out and and was azure skies and Simpson's clouds all the way to Michigan.
(Side note about Ohio: the people are ugly as Hell. Ugly as sin. Ugly as yo momma. No kidding, not a hot girl in sight, and we were in the state for 6 hours, not including eating lunch in the most disgusting Wendy's ever. Just a heads up for all those planning on driving through this God-forsaken place.)
Once at Tom's Grandparent's house (which is huge, on a lake, and masterfully built and decorated...I wish it was mine) dinner was amazing. Nothing like a home cooked meal to feed the soul. Tom's Aunt and Uncle came by with their 3 daughters, who where the nicest, most energetic sisters I have ever met. After a great dinner and a long, intense, and physical game of Spoons, Tom, Jeff, and I relaxed in the study downstairs, drank a beer, then immediately passed out, eagerly awaiting the 8am wake-up call for breakfast and a day on the lake.
Summer Exravaganza '07!!: Hit the road, Jack!
It is 1AM the morning of our big trip (7/11), dubbed Summer Extravaganza '07!, and I am not able to sleep a wink...I feel like the kid on the Disneyland commercial, "I'm too excited to sleep!" Anyhow, hope we have fair weather and traffic and no more mishaps on this first leg of the trip (Tom, cutting yourself before we even leave, shame!)
Oh yeah, for those that don't know, the people going on this excursion include:
Adam Hosterman
Tom Forbes
Jeff Harke
and introducing Rebecca Rolfe, who will be with us for the first few days in Chicago.
Well, more to come on the characters, plot, and outcome of this tale, so stay tuned, and look for us in the following (tentative) locations:
Itinerary
7/11 - Leave for Chicago (Tom's Grandparent's House)
7/12 - Lake @ Grandparent's
7/13 - Chicago/Steve Miller/Friend's House
7/14 - Black Hills, SD
7/15 - Wind River Range, WY
7/16 - Yellowstone, WY
7/17 - Glacier, MT
7/18 - Seattle, WA
7/19 - Mt. St. Helen's, WA
7/20 - OR Coast
7/21 - SF
7/30 - SF/Yosemite (From here it is really flexible, so I will update on our progress)...
8/5 - Raleigh, NC
P.S. - pictures will be posted on both Facebook.com and on picturetrail.com/athoster.
Oh yeah, for those that don't know, the people going on this excursion include:
Adam Hosterman
Tom Forbes
Jeff Harke
and introducing Rebecca Rolfe, who will be with us for the first few days in Chicago.
Well, more to come on the characters, plot, and outcome of this tale, so stay tuned, and look for us in the following (tentative) locations:
Itinerary
7/11 - Leave for Chicago (Tom's Grandparent's House)
7/12 - Lake @ Grandparent's
7/13 - Chicago/Steve Miller/Friend's House
7/14 - Black Hills, SD
7/15 - Wind River Range, WY
7/16 - Yellowstone, WY
7/17 - Glacier, MT
7/18 - Seattle, WA
7/19 - Mt. St. Helen's, WA
7/20 - OR Coast
7/21 - SF
7/30 - SF/Yosemite (From here it is really flexible, so I will update on our progress)...
8/5 - Raleigh, NC
P.S. - pictures will be posted on both Facebook.com and on picturetrail.com/athoster.
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