USA ROAD TRIP THREE:

Philadelphia to Los Angeles

On my third trip across the USA (again solo) I just wanted to get my car home and see my family before heading off for an overseas assignment. So this time I took what I would call “the fast route”. But I still managed to see some good sights along the way.

Some statistics for the trip:

Days on the Road: 5 (plus one evening)

Miles/kilometers driven (including local driving): 2953 mi/4725 km

Gallons of Gas Purchased: 106.2

Total cost of Gas for the Trip: $145.32

Average cost of gas: $1.33 per gallon

Total cost of lodging: $99 ($33 per night)

Money spent on food, attractions, and incidentals: Didn’t count!

Day and Location	Distance driven	Travel time (with all stops)	Lodging (Hotel Name, City, State)
Evening 1: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania to Pottstown, Pennsylvania	47 mi	1 hour, 3 minutes	(none; stayed with friends)
Day 1: Pottstown, Pennsylvania to Cincinnati, Ohio	535 mi	9 hours, 1 minute	(none; stayed with friends)
Day 2: Cincinnati, Ohio to Mt. Vernon, Missouri	683 mi	13 hours, 53 minutes	Mt. Vernon Inn?, Mt. Vernon, Missouri
Day 3: Mt. Vernon, Missouri to Tucumcari, New Mexico	628 mi	11 hours, 36 minutes	Travelodge, Tucumcari, New Mexico
Day 4: Tucumcari, New Mexico to Holbrook, Arizona	485 mi	10 hours, 58 minutes	Best Inn, Holbrook, Arizona
Day 5: Holbrook, Arizona to Los Angeles, California	575 mi	9 hours, 53 minutes	(none—home)

July 26, 2001

Today was a rather uneventful day. My friends Barbara and Bob graciously gave me fruit, cheese, muffins, and soda for the road. And an insulated bag with two freezer packs in it. There was a lot of rain and fog all through Pennsylvania. The part of West Virginia I drove through was nothing—if I had blinked I would have missed Wheeling. The bridge over the Ohio River was nice. Ohio in general seems okay. The John and Annie Glenn museum, childhood home of one of the first American astronauts, was still being renovated or designed or something; the house looked so old and in poor repair I didn’t have the heart to take a picture of it. I almost laughed at the scenic view from the rest area off I-71. It was just a few hills with trees on them. Maybe it’s more interesting in fall. And maybe it’s more interesting if that’s as close as you can get to seeing mountains. I would have loved to have stopped at James Thurber House and the original Wendy’s in Columbus, Ohio, but there was construction on I-70 that was slowing traffic down, and I thought I had to be in “Cincy” by 6:00. Turns out I had until 7 p.m. My friend Greg’s apartment is very large and very clean. He made mac and cheese served with Gatorade fruit punch. Lucky for me these are two of my favorite foods.

July 27, 2001

Greg had to go to work at 6:15 in the morning, and I didn’t want to stay in the apartment after him, so I too got up at 6:15. I decided to drive around downtown Cinncinati. I was trying to find Vine Street, the drug street where “Traffic” was filmed, but I couldn’t find it. I did find “Pete Rose Way”, which led to a new waterfront area of stadiums and parks that was under a lot of construction. Once I got past the construction mess, I got a very pretty view of Lexington, Kentucky on the other side of the river. I wanted to take a picture, put when I pulled into an empty parking lot at a park so I could do that, a woman told me that it was a pay parking lot, and I had come in the wrong way. Oops.

I got back into the car and had a hellish time trying to get back onto a freeway. Once I did, I cruised into Kentucky. I loved seeing the town water tower of Florence, Kentucky—it said, “Florence, Y’all”. I also thought it was funny that there was a place called “Big Bone Lick State Park”. Louisville looked pretty from the highway, but I didn’t take the time to stop. I crossed into Indiana on I-64, and was surprised to see signs for the Abraham Lincoln Childhood Home Historical site. Most Americans believe that Lincoln grew up in a Log Cabin in Illinois, but he actually he was born in Kentucky and moved to Indiana before moving to Illinois. The site had a visitor’s center with historical information, a replica of the farm Lincoln grew up in, and the grave of his mother who died of whiteroot poisoning when Lincoln was only 9 years old.

After my long stop I drove through Indiana and Illinois and crossed the Mississippi River into Missouri, where I literally spent 10 minutes in St. Louis to take pictures of the famous arch. I continued on to Mansfield, Missouri—location of the Laura Ingalls Wilder and Almanzo Wilder homestead. I saw the final house they lived in and their graves. There was also a display of artifacts including Pa’s violin and the “Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread” plate. I continued on through Springfield which I thought would be a good place to stop for the night. However, it looked totally non interesting so I kept driving until dusk. I ended up stopping at a motel in Mt. Vernon, Missouri. It was cheap, but the room smelled funny and there were odd utensils left in the drawer whose purpose or use in a Missouri motel room I could only wonder about.

July 28, 2001

In the morning I left the hotel and drove through Missouri into Oklahoma. I stopped at the Welcome Center in Tulsa to ask where I could find a good local restaurant for lunch. I was referred to Max’s Boneless Chicken. I had to admit it was good. Even the fried okra wasn’t bad. From Tulsa I drove into Oklahoma City and stopped at the Federal Building bombing site. I didn’t have time to go inside the museum, but what I saw was very moving. There were two stone arches, one marked 9:01 and the other marked 9:03. There was a lake in between to indicate 9:02, the time that the bomb went off. There were also 168 chairs in relative positions and sizes to remember the 168 men, women, and children who died. There was a tree that survived the blast upright and a section of the original building wall. The saddest part, though, was the section of chain link fence that was still covered with messages and pictures about the people who had died.

I left Oklahoma City and drove on into Texas. They say everything is bigger in Texas and I can’t really argue with that. In the middle of nowhere, I saw a cross that towered high above 18-wheeler big-rigs. In Amarillo, I stopped to eat dinner at the Big Texan, home of the 72 ounce steak. The deal there is, if you can eat a 72 ounce steak dinner (shrimp cocktail, salad, steak, baked potato, and dessert) in one hour without anyone cutting your meat for you and without leaving the special dining tables, you get the whole meal for free. Otherwise the meal costs $50. There was a whiteboard with a list of names of people who had succeeded in the task. I didn’t even try to get on that list; I think there’s something disgusting about trying to eat 6 pounds of anything in one hour.

After my regular sized steak dinner, I drove on through Texas and into New Mexico, stopping for the night in the minor town of Tucumcari.

July 29-30, 2001

In the morning I left the hotel and drove on to Albuquerque. I had been there once before in 2000 and thought it was a wonderful city. Last time I’d been there with my friend Peter from Germany, and I was sorry he couldn’t join me this time. But, I managed to enjoy my stop there anyway. I drove around the University of New Mexico, where all of the buildings and even the dormitories are made of adobe. I hadn’t seen that before so that was cool. I then went to Old Town again and had American Indian frybread, a food I discovered in D.C. and love dearly.

I left Albuquerque after lunch and made an impulse stop at a place called Fire and Ice. It was a volcano crater located near a cave that is always freezing. It was worth the price not only to see these two natural wonders; I had a nice chat with the couple who ran the gift shop. I mentioned that I was getting ready to teach English in Ukraine, where chances are I would have no washing machine and possibly intermittent utilities service. The couple said it didn’t sound that different than their life in New Mexico—they had no washing machine and no indoor plumbing, either. But it was worth it to live in a place where land was only $34 a month.

From New Mexico I continued on into Arizona. I stopped to see the Painted Desert, which I thought was gorgeous. It’s called the painted desert because the land is different colors and, well, it looks painted. From there I went to the Petrified Forest, home of trees that have turned into stone. That was less impressive.

I stopped for the night in nearby Holbrook, and the next day I had an uneventful ride into California.

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