USA ROAD TRIP FOUR:

Los Angeles to Boston

One of my dearest friends from childhood, Christie, decided to move to Boston for a while. Knowing I was a veteran at the moving-cross-country for a new life thing, she asked me to tag along. I gladly did. We managed to make it a good mix of sightseeing and peopleseeing.

Some statistics for the trip:

Days on the Road: 10

Miles/kilometers driven: 4411 mi/7057 km

Gallons of Gas Purchased: 199.1

Total cost of Gas for the Trip: $418.34

Average cost of gas: $1.95 per gallon!

Total cost of lodging: information not available (Christie paid for the hotels)

Day and Location	Distance driven	Travel time (with gas and bathroom stops and only; breakfast/lunch stops extra time)	Dining	Lodging (Hotel Name, City, State)
Day 1 (August 25): Valencia, California to Vallejo, California	414 mi	7 hours 37 minutes	Breakfast: Coco’s, Newhall, CA Dinner: Saul’s Deli, Berkeley, CA	Ramada Inn (2 stars)
Day 2 (August 26): Vallejo, California to Vancouver, Washington	641 mi	10 hours 42 minutes	Breakfast/lunch: Car snacks Dinner: homemade lasagna!	Stayed with Krista, elementary school classmate (4 stars)
Day 3 (August 27): Vancouver, Washington to Spokane, Washington (via the Oregon side of the Columbia River Gorge)	364	6 hours 14 minutes	Lunch: Cousins Restaurant and Saloon, The Dalles, OR	Quality Inn Valley Suites, Spokane, WA (Millwood area) (3.5 stars)
Day 4 (August 28): Spokane, Washington to Kalispell, Montana	250 mi	4 hours 33 minutes	Breakfast: Perkins Restaurant, Spokane, WA Lunch: OK Café, St. Regis, MT Dinner: Bartleys Brewhouse, Kalispell, MT	Kalispell Days Inn (2.5 stars)
Day 5 (August 29): Kalispell, Montana to Malta, Montana via Glacier National Park	367 mi	8 hours 16 minutes (includes time to drive through Glacier National Park)	Lunch: Golden Harvest Cafe, Cut Bank, MT Dinner: Homemade French dip sandwiches!	Stayed with Paula, returned Peace Corps Volunteer from Moldova (4 stars)
Day 6 (August 30): Malta, Montana to Jamestown, North Dakota	540 mi	8 hours 6 minutes	Lunch: Old Town Grill, Wolf Point, MT Dinner: Homemade loose meat sandwiches!	Stayed with Emily, returned Peace Corps Volunteer from Moldova (4 stars)
Day 7 (August 31): Jamestown, North Dakota to St. Paul, Minnesota	348 mi	6 hours 31 minutes	Lunch: A hot dog /chips/pop combo from a drugstore in Fargo, ND (Bridget)/Wendy’s (Christie) Dinner: Twin City Grill, Mall of America	Stayed at the home of Lynette, friend from college (4 stars)
Day 8 (September 1): St. Paul, Minnesota to Skokie, Illinois	422 mi	6 hours 46 minutes	Lunch: Plaza Grill (home of the Plazaburger), Madison, WI Dinner: Warm complimentary chocolate chip cookie, Doubletree Hotel	Doubletree Hotel (3 stars)
Day 9 (September 2): Skokie, Illinois to Amherst, New York (Buffalo region)	607 mi	12 hours 34 minutes (delays due to train crossings and a major accident on I-90)	Breakfast: Daily Grill, Skokie Illinois Lunch/Dinner: Subway sandwich in Indiana (Bridget)/Popeye’s chicken in Ohio (Christie)	Red Roof Inn (2.5 stars)
Day 10 (September 3): Amherst, New York to Somerville, Massachusetts	455 mi	7 hours 41 minutes	Brunch: Anchor Bar, Buffalo, New York Dinner: Party food	Christie’s new home
Epilogue: Labor Day Weekend in Maine, Rhode Island, and Massachusetts

Day 1: August 25, 2004

Christie picked me up at my mother’s house in Valencia around 8:30 in the morning. Her car was packed pretty tightly, so she was pleased that my duffel bag fit perfectly in the oblong space created by the legs of the two small end tables she was bringing. Everything else (my purse and my Moldovan nylon bag filled with extra jackets and provisions for the road) got squished into the front with me.

We drove (“we” being used in the royal sense here since Christie did 99 percent of the actual driving on this trip) to Coco’s to meet up with our friend Bobbie for a goodbye breakfast sendoff. I can’t remember now what we all had for breakfast, but I’m pretty sure eggs, pancakes, bacon, sausage, toast, hash browns and coffee were on the table. And possibly ice tea.

After breakfast, we went out to the car. Bobbie gave us Rice Krispy treats and two books of questions and games for the road. We then took lots of pictures near the car--me and Christie, Christie and the car, me and the car, Christie and Bobbie, me and Bobbie... It was the road trip equivalent of the “The Waltons”’ good night scene.

We got right on I-5 and headed towards the Bay Area. The drive on I-5 is truly uneventful. The only thing we stopped to take photos of were the cows. Christie said she had never seen so many cows in her life. I said I had never smelled so many.

In contrast, Berkeley, California is perhaps the best-smelling city I’ve ever been to. The air is cleaner there than in L.A., and every store we walked past on Shattuck Avenue seemed to beckon us with temptations of cheese or coffee or something hot on the grill. We skipped them all though, first in favor of bookstores (a travel store and then the local favorite Black Oak Books). Then we went to Andronico’s, one of my favorite grocery stores in the world. We gazed at all of the fine foods and took the free samples of bread and cheese that were planted on trays throughout the store. As I noshed on havarti dill cheese, I found out Christie doesn’t like dill. I guess she would have been miserable in Ukraine and Moldova.;) I bought a baguette of Acme sourdough bread, because the Bay Area is famous for sourdough bread and Acme Bakery makes the best sourdough bread I’ve ever tasted. The bread itself turned out to be too chewy, but the smell alone was worth the purchase. Washing it down with a piece of Ghiradelli chocolate (another San Francisco treat) didn’t hurt. ;)

Around this time my friend Greg (whom I’ve known since my days at Whittier College) arrived from nearby Oakland. We had over an hour before we were scheduled to meet up with my friend and former Whittier professor Amy for dinner, so sitting and eating something was not an option. I wanted exercise so I suggested we simply walk up and down Shattuck Avenue and talk. I realized about 10 minutes into the walk that walking up and down a major street is a very natural way for Ukrainians and Moldovans to socialize, but it must have seemed weird to my American friends. Well, they didn’t say anything to my face about it so I assume there was no major psychological harm done.

A little after 6:30 we met up with Amy and the four of us had a lovely time talking over sandwiches, matzo ball soup, and potato pancakes at Saul’s Deli. (Sorry, I didn’t get any pictures of Amy or Greg or the restaurant—shame on me). Then we drove 20 minutes north to Vallejo for the night, and pretty much went right to sleep.

Day 1 glossary for nonnative English readers:

Coco’s: The name of a chain of casual, family dining restaurants

Rice Krispy treats: A dessert made from Rice Krispies cereal and marshmallows

The Waltons: A popular TV show from the 1970s about a large family living in rural Depression-era America. It concluded each night with the whole family taking turns saying goodnight to each other. The most famous line from this is “Goodnight, John Boy”.

I-5: The nickname (pronounced ‘Eye ‘Five) for the major north-south multilane expressway which runs from San Diego, California up the length of California, through Oregon and Washington to the Canadian border.

matzo ball soup: A traditional Jewish dish. A bowl of Chicken broth with a dumpling-like ball in it.

Day 2: August 26, 2004

We had a long drive ahead of us so we got off to an early start, leaving shortly after 8 am. The drive from Vallejo to Redding was ho-hum. After Redding it became more scenic; we saw Lake Shasta and in the distance we could see Mt. Shasta as well. It seemed like it took forever to get out of California, though. We finally reached the Oregon border shortly before 1 p.m., and engaged in another road trip tradition: stopping the car on the side of the road to take a picture of the “Welcome to [State]” sign, and to have our picture taken with it when possible. We continued on through foresty hills and experienced brief squalls (rainstorms), munching on snacks while I read questions from the road game and question book.

We arrived in the Portland area around 5 p.m., not realizing we were running smack dab into rush hour. Krista had called with directions to her house, telling us to avoid I-5 and take the 205 instead. But that road seemed backed up. Neither Christie nor I wanted to wait in traffic, so we got off the freeway and I found an alternate road for us. I don’t remember now how it happened, but we ended up going cross town and getting on the I-5 anyway.

As I predicted (based on previous experience crossing into states over rivers), the Welcome to Washington sign was on the middle of the bridge we were crossing, so there was no chance to stop. It was plain and ugly too, like a regular freeway sign. I tried to get a shot from the car but I had no luck.

It was coming near Krista’s house that I had my first of many fights with Magellan, the electronic navigational system Christie bought for the trip. Krista had given us directions to her house and I thought we should follow them, but Christie trusted Magellan to get us there. Magellan told us to turn onto a different street than Krista had recommended, but it seemed to be a parallel street so I kept my mouth shut. But then we arrived on what was allegedly Krista’s street and none of the numbers of the houses matched Krista’s. When Magellan said in its monotone male voice “you have arrived” we called Krista to tell her we were on her street but could not find her house. As we talked we discovered that there were TWO streets in Vancouver with the exact same name. Magellan had taken us to the wrong one.

We finally arrived at Krista’s beautiful house and I gratefully accepted the glass of red wine from her hands (which I refused to drink until I had said a toast and clinked glasses with the others—old Ukrainian/Moldovan habits die hard). We gorged ourselves on lasagna and salad and garlic bread. Even though I hadn’t seen Krista in 17 years and Christie hadn’t talked to her in 14 years, we talked like we’d been friends for that long. A good time was had by all.

Day 3: August 27, 2004

Krista said goodbye to us at 9:30 in the morning; late for her to be going to work but we still hadn’t dragged ourselves out of bed so I was glad we had a chance to say goodbye. Plus Christie and I had a short drive to Spokane though so we weren’t worried about time.

We had a choice in routes for seeing the Columbia River Gorge area: stay on the Washington side and see it from scenic route 14, or backtrack several miles to the bridge where we could cross to the Oregon side and see not only the river view but also Multnomah Falls and “The Dalles” (“Dalles” rhymes with “Al’s”). We decided to cross back on the Oregon side. Magellan, however, was trying to tell Christie to get on the freeway north towards Seattle, which is totally wrong. I was so disgusted that I told Christie to do whatever she wanted, and I took a catnap. I think I missed seeing Mount Hood as a result. Such is the price of anger.

We arrived at Multnomah Falls in less than an hour, and spent over an hour there. It was beautiful. It wasn’t a mountain of gushing water like Niagara; merely one foamy stream coming down a forested mountainside. I suppose a picture’s worth 1000 words, though, so I’ll put a picture of it on my Web site. We did a brief hike to a bridge over the falls, and walked on some more but not all the way to the top of the mountain as we weren’t dressed or physically equipped for such a task.

After the Falls, we drove to the Dalles where we thought we’d go see a historical fort. But it just looked like some old brown buildings for which they wanted a $3 admission fee. Instead, we backtracked to a restaurant called Cousins, a restaurant that claimed to offer “Home Style Cooking”. When we walked in the door we were greeted by a woman saying, “Hello, Cousins”. Behind her was a wall of American country kitsch. It was an assault on our poor senses. It was worth it, though- the lunches we had were really good, and the slice of peanut butter cream pie that Christie and I shared provided all of the pleasure of eating peanut butter by spoonfuls from the jar with none of the fear that the peanut butter would stick to the roof of my mouth.

We got back on the road and put ourselves once again in the hands of Magellan, who this time seemed to know how to find the best road to get to Spokane. We saw a better Washington state welcome sign, and got a picture of that. It was very odd to leave forest and go through the hot dry desert, then farmland, then arrive in the lush greenery of Spokane in the space of 5 hours. But that’s the beauty of America, I suppose.

We arrived at the hotel and even though it was a Friday night, Christie and I didn’t think about going anywhere. I got in a workout at the hotel fitness center (Christie did her workout Saturday morning), and I went across the street to the drugstore and got some Washington-state beer that was made in the style of German Koelsch beer. It was pretty good, though I wished I’d had the traditional slender Kolsch glasses to drink it from.

Day 4: August 28, 2004

Christie had made arrangements to meet with her high school friend Larry and his wife and their young dog for breakfast Saturday morning. They live an hour away from Spokane in Idaho. As Larry pointed out, I hadn’t said more than three words to him in high school, and I said I couldn’t even remember those three. Still, we all had a nice morning together. We caravaned back into downtown Spokane to eat at Perkins, a Coco’s-restaurant. I had a nice omlette. The muffins that came with breakfast would have been nicer if the waiter had ever brought the butter we asked for.

After breakfast, Larry and his wife took us down to the Spokane riverfront, where we saw the falls (much smaller in comparison with Multnomah), a play area for children, and rides leftover from an old World’s Fair. It was a pleasant surprise how beautiful it was.

Around noon we said goodbye and hit the road again. It didn’t take long to cross the border into our fourth state on the journey, Idaho. We stopped at Old Mission State park to see, well, an old mission (a church built in the 1800s to promote Christianity). But like the Dalles museum it looked overpriced so we just walked around the grounds, took a quick photo, and took off.

About a half an hour after that stop, we crossed into Montana. We also had our first time zone change of the trip, from Pacific to Mountain time. We stopped for late lunch at the OK Café in St. Regis, Montana, which I thought was better than okay. The tuna sandwich Christie and I split (with Christie’s standard special request of extra crispy fries) was very good, and as we sat at the counter I felt like I was enjoying life in a small town. That is, as long as I didn’t look to my right where there was a casino room with slots and refrigerator marked “juice” but filled with bottles of beer.

We drove on using the directions the hotel clerk had given us, which she said would save us an hour over the Yahoo Maps (maps.yahoo.com) directions. We drove briefly through Paradise (the name of a Montana town), which frankly looked as misnamed as Greenland must. More idyllic was the scenic drive around Flathead Lake; we stopped briefly a couple of times to take pictures.

We arrived in Kalispell, Montana, our stop for the night, around 5:30 pm. It was Saturday and I hadn’t done any of the driving at this point, so I was really restless. We were on the edge of town so I couldn’t just go out and walk around the cute main street area we saw driving in. I looked through newspapers and brochures, for something, anything to do in Kalispell. I found nothing. It didn’t matter; Christie, who had now driven 1600 miles (2560 kilometers) in 4 days, was worshipping the linen god. I sat with another beer and a protein bar flipping channels until about 7 p.m., when Christie said, “it’s Saturday night; we should really go out and do something.”

We went downstairs to the front desk to ask the hotel clerk what we could do on a Saturday night. She said she was from California, and had no idea. She did, however, know where to go eat: there was a local place called Barley’s Brewhouse. I wasn’t really hungry, but it seemed better than staying in. When we arrived, I found my second stomach and ordered a delicious spare rib platter. I did it mainly for the veggies but the spare ribs were incredible. Since it was a microbrewery, I also ordered a sampler of beers. Now, the last time I’d done this was in Moldova at the Beer House in Chisinau, where the servings were modest. Also, because of my time in Moldova, liquid measurements (especially those of alcohol) make more sense to me in Metric units than in English ones. So when I saw that the sampler was 6 glasses that were 5 ounces each, I couldn’t imagine it would be so much. Don’t worry, though; I only sipped each one once.

Day 5: August 29, 2004

We left Kalispell as early as we could, around 8:30 in the morning. We had a long day’s journey ahead. We drove for an hour until we arrived at the West Entrance to Glacier National Park. We proceeded onto the entrance of Going-to-the-Sun Road, a 49-mile road that runs up into the mountains and then back down. Although the sun made only brief appearances and the temperature at the peak in the park at 11:00 in the morning was only 45 degrees FAHRENHEIT (about 7 degrees Celsius), the park was probably the most beautiful sight I saw on the whole trip, and it’s on my list of Best Places in America along with Yellowstone in Wyoming and the Badlands of South Dakota. I have pictures up on my Web site of Lake McDonald, the mountains, the fog, at the top, and St. Mary’s lake.

When we exited the East Entrance of the park three hours later, I was relieved. My brain could digest no more beauty; it was full. My stomach, however, had room for a huckleberry candy and was pondering lunch. We stopped in Cut Bank, Montana at the Golden Harvest Café. It was another place where everyone seemed to know everyone, and we could see real American farmer cowboys. My burger was okay, but Christie’s breakfast looked great.

I had planned after exiting Glacier to make some calls on my cell phone (that’s mobile for you British English speakers, handy for my German readers). We weren’t driving on a major highway, though; we were on a two-lane road in the northern Montana plains. We had no service. Christie observed later that people in small towns had cell phones, so there must be some kind of cell service for people in Montana. But Christie and I both had T-Mobile, and apparently it hasn’t gotten around to negotiating roaming agreements in this vital part of the American landscape. I made a note to myself to ask my German friends to get T-Mobile working on that problem.

We got cell service again in the “big” town of Havre (pronounced like “have’er”). We were able to make one call, then we lost service again. I had to stop at a pay phone in the next town with a pay phone and use my calling card to let my friend Paula know we would be arriving earlier than expected. I also had to get directions to her house in Malta. She said when we got to the county’s only blinking light to turn right.

We arrived at Paula’s house around 5:30 pm. It was a beautiful house, large and maybe 100 years old. We arrived just around the time Paula and her mother were finishing the canning of some peaches. It suddenly didn’t seem that different from Leova, Moldova where Paula had served as a Peace Corps volunteer. The house was peppered with knick-knacks from her time there. My eyes were drawn to them immediately, just as she was pleasantly surprised to see my bags. “You have a punga (Moldovan nylon shopping bag)!” She said excitedly.

Her mother prepared French dip sandwiches, salad, and corn on the cob. We sat outside with Paula, her parents, and her younger brother. Christie couldn’t get over the fact that the houses in Montana (and in other states as well) don’t have fences. I couldn’t get over the fact that both of Paula’s parents had once lived in the Washington D.C. area. They even knew the shopping center I lived next to my first year in Maryland.

Christie and I learned a lot about small town life that evening at dinner and during the tour of the town given after dinner by Paula’s mother. We learned that when people get married in a town of 2000, they don’t mail invitations; they put an announcement in the paper. Same thing with funerals. We saw the plug in the car that is plugged into a heater in winter to keep the engine from cracking. We learned about the tragic fire that burned down the high school, and how the community came together to donate buildings and materials so the kids could continue their education until a new school was built. We learned about the nearby dinosaur bones field station. We learned that the main entertainment on a Friday night is to go to a high school game. Paula said she didn’t expect the parents at our next stop to give us such a tour. I told her honestly that it wouldn’t be as good, then.

We got back home around 9 p.m., and Paula looked through her family movie collection for something to watch. When she said, “I’ve never seen ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’”, all searching stopped. I was shocked. How is it possible that there are Americans who haven’t seen it? Was it an age thing? A small-town-America-doesn’t-watch-a-lot-of-Hollywood-thing? I thought it was so important for her to see it I sat through the colorized version. I think I enjoyed it the most though. Paula watched while reading a book, and poor Christie fought to stay awake.

Day 6: August 30, 2004

I didn’t get to say goodbye to Paula’s parents; they left early in the morning before I woke up. I still woke up an hour before everybody, though, so I walked up and down the street to see if anything like the library or the dinosaur field station were open yet. They weren’t so I went instead to Albertson’s to explore the shelves. They had a variety of Montana beer called “Moose Drool” but it didn’t sound very appetizing.

I stopped for coffee in the kitsch store near Paula’s house, then went back to the house and drank it. It was easy for me to come and go because in this part of Montana, there’s no real need to lock doors. I finally woke Christie up at 9:30. We said goodbyes and thank yous to Paula (who was up at this point), and hit the road again.

We drove on into Wolf Point, Montana and stopped for lunch at the Old Town Grill. This is the first time in my life I’ve been at a restaurant where one has to sit at a booth and pick up a phone at the table to order food. It was worth it, though—the popcorn chicken salad (chicken that’s been cut into small pieces and fried, then placed on a bed of lettuce) was really good.

About an hour after lunch, we stopped in the first town we saw that had a car wash. The front of Christie’s car was beginning to look like the state’s only bug cemetery. I also hoped to make a phone call, but the pay phone we saw was out of order. At first the ladies at the gas station/convenience store said it was the only pay phone in town. Then one of them remembered that the bar at the edge of town had one. I stopped there to call a friend, then we headed on.

Montana is a big state, the fourth largest in the U.S. (Alaska is first, then Texas, then California). So it’s no wonder that as much as we liked Montana, it seemed to take a long time to get out. We reached the North Dakota border at about 2:30 in the afternoon, which became 3:30 the minute we crossed the border and into the Central time zone.

North Dakota felt more like Ukraine to me than Ukraine ever did. I saw fields of wheat under a blue sky and took a picture to match the Ukrainian flag, though I’d never seen such a sight during my 3 years in Eastern Europe. We saw the edges of the North Dakota badlands and didn’t have time to go into the park to see Teddy Roosevelt’s ranch, but what we saw was beautiful.

We also discovered the trials and tribulations of time zones. When we crossed the border into North Dakota, we entered Central time. On the drive near the park though, we re-entered Mountain time. It became Central time again once we picked up the main highway (I-94) and passed Bismarck.

We arrived in Jamestown around 8:30 in the evening. As agreed, we called Emily when we were 10 miles from her freeway exit. We parked at a Perkins and waited for her to show up so we could follow her car home. She had said it would be easier to do that than to give directions. I couldn’t help but think that Emily, who was also a returned Peace Corps Volunteer from Moldova, was still operating under Moldovan cultural norms.

We arrived at her house and Emily offered us loose meat sandwiches which had been made by her dad. We also had his homemade pecan pie, the first time Christie had ever had such a pie. Emily and her parents chatted with us while watching “Murder She Wrote”. I felt immediately at home, and not just because I saw a painted cutting board on the wall and a set of woven coasters identical to the one my Moldovan landmother had given me.

Day 7: August 31, 2004

We left Emily’s house around 9 to head for the claim to fame of Jamestown, North Dakota: The National Buffalo Museum, complete with the world’s largest concrete buffalo. We paid the $3 to see the museum, although Christie was really bothered by the sight of animal skins and animals that had been stuffed and mounted. We then walked through the little Frontier Village with old buildings from the frontier days. On the way back to the car, we saw the live herd of buffalo and took pictures as best we could.

We hit the road and didn’t stop until we got to Fargo, North Dakota. I didn’t want to stay there too long because I wanted to get to my friend Lynette’s at a decent hour. But we stopped long enough to go into a local grocery store where I got a hot dog, chips, and a “pop” (Midwestern English for soda/Coke).

We arrived at Lynette’s in St. Paul, Minnesota around 5 pm. We shot the breeze for a while, then headed off to the Mall of America, the largest mall in America. It’s located near the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport. I had seen it the last time I was in town and thought it was just another American mall, but Christie had never seen it before and it’s the type of thing you have to see at least once in your life if you have the chance. We wandered around and stared at the roller-coaster, then hit the peanut butter and jelly store. I had never seen a store that offered different varieties of peanut butter and prepared peanut butter and jelly sandwiches as well. I tried the “Peanut Butter European Mocha” blend but it didn’t taste that special to me. The flourless peanut butter cookies, however, were fantastic. Christie bought one along with a jar of White Chocolate peanut butter.

After much vacilitating, we ended up eating dinner at a somewhat upscale restaurant called Twin City Grill. (The name comes from the fact that Minneapolis and St. Paul are right next to each other and are therefore referred to as the “twin cities”). Lynette and I had walleye, the local fish. I don’t remember what Christie had but I know it wasn’t fish. We sat there practically until the place closed down, eating and drinking. It was good.

Day 8: September 1, 2004

We hit the road around 10 am. We crossed the Wisconsin border quickly, but turned around to take a picture of the Minnesota state sign which we’d missed yesterday, then turned around again. We drove past a lot of cheese stands and got to Madison, Wisconsin around 2:30 p.m., and decided to stop there for lunch. It was rather difficult navigating the roads, and once again it was difficult choosing a place that seemed “right” to eat at. We finally settled on the Plaza Grill. It was basically a seedy bar, but not unsafe. Besides, I couldn’t resist a chance to order Franziskaner (a German beer) on tap; it’s a rare thing. Christie couldn’t resist ordering a side of cheddar mashers, a kind of tater tot with cheddar cheese melted inside. I got the classic cheese curds, which were chewy lumps of cheese that had been battered and fried. Christie got the better end of the deal on that.

We continued on south, following side roads through two beautiful towns, Delevan and Lake Geneva. I’m sorry I didn’t take pictures of their main streets; they were well-groomed and old-fashioned looking. They were more pleasant even than our actual destination—Genoa City, Wisconsin, home of the soap opera “The Young and the Restless”.

From Genoa City we crossed into Illinois and meandered towards Chicago. We finally arrived at our hotel in Skokie (a Chicago suburb) around 7:30 pm. We had our complimentary chocolate chip cookies from the hotel, did a workout in the fitness center, and went to sleep.

Day 9: September 2, 2004

This day can only be described as a travel day from hell. We were going from Chicago, Illinois to Buffalo, New York. It should have been an 8-9 hour drive. We had a nice breakfast buffet at the Daily Grill, a chain restaurant next to the hotel. I navigated us onto a scenic route downtown so we could see the waterfront, the Navy Pier, and Buckingham Fountain (which most of you have seen if you’ve ever watched the credits to the American TV show “Married with Children”).

It took us some time, then, to get onto I-94 south. We missed the exit for the fast toll road, so we took the slower, more out of the way route. Then I said we should get off at the first exit in Indiana to get back up to the toll road again. That cost us more time because that road was backed up due to a train crossing.

When we got on the toll road, I noticed a handwritten sign on the toll booth about an accident and a recommended exit. There was no date on it and I felt stupid asking if it was serious, and more stupid about taking a handwritten sign seriously. I suggested we hope that the accident would be cleared up by the time we got there.

It wasn’t. We hit a point where traffic was at an absolute standstill. And it stayed that way for how long I don’t know. Fortunately, in this part of the U.S., the highways are not divided by concrete barriers but by grassy ditches. Christie watched as several cars drove into the ditch and up out onto the other side of the highway, then Christie made her move. It was very dangerous and illegal, but it was the only way to get out of that traffic jam.

We got off at the next exit going in the opposite direction, then we got onto the main bypass road, route 20. We noticed, however, that there were large numbers of cars driving on the opposite direction. Christie decided to follow her gut and turn off the road and take side roads instead. We ended up driving through beautiful small town Indiana farmland. It de-stressed both of us from the hell of the highway. We got back on the 20 in New Carlisle, Indiana. I calculated it had taken us a whopping 4 hours to go only 132 miles. It was already 4 in the afternoon (because of the change to the Eastern time zone), and we still had over 400 miles to drive; our hotel reservation could not be cancelled at this late stage of the game.

We stayed off the main highway until we got to Elkhart, Indiana. Then it seemed safe (and necessary) to get back on the toll road to make up for lost time. Stopping for dinner was not a real option. I’d bought a sandwich at the stop in New Carlisle. Christie needed something to eat though. The toll road going through Ohio (as with most East Coast toll roads) had travel plazas where we could get off the freeway and use the bathroom, get gas and food, and get back on the road without totally exiting the highway and paying toll. Each travel plaza has different food and gas vendors. The first one we saw didn’t have anything Christie liked. The second one had Popeye’s Chicken, an all-time favorite of hers and something not available in Boston. She can’t eat a chicken dinner and drive, though. I said we could sit and wait while she ate, or she could let me drive and she could eat in the car.

She chose to let me drive. I was terrified about driving her car and making her sick. But I did okay. I drove through Ohio until we reached the Pennsylvania border, where we took pictures of the sign and then she resumed her role as driver. We arrived at the hotel at midnight and rushed to get into the hotel room and get some sleep.

Day 10: September 3, 2004

Since we’d missed out on having dinner at the Anchor Bar in Buffalo (home of Buffalo wings) the previous night, we decided to go there for an early lunch. Buffalo wings, for those not in the know, are chicken wings that are grilled or fried, then tossed in a hot sauce and served with blue cheese dressing and celery. Yum!

After lunch, though, Christie went to get her camera, but couldn’t find it in her bag. I thought it must be in there somewhere, and told her to take things out. I checked under the seat, in my bags, everywhere I could think of. Nothing. Christie realized the last time she’d seen it was last night. She had been gathering the trash out of the car and had her hands full with stuff (including her camera) while she was trying to shove the trash from the car into the trash can. We called the hotel, but they said the trash and the dumpster had already been emptied. We drove to hotel anyway on the off chance that wasn’t true, but we had no luck. Poor Christie had lost her camera.

We got on the road feeling slightly depressed and continued on the toll roads through New York. We crossed into Massachusetts and Christie turned on Magellan again. Christie had programmed it to avoid toll roads, so it kept telling us to get off the Massachusetts turnpike. We did and it went crazy, sending us in totally weird directions. I practically yelled at Christie that at this point, it made much more sense to stay on the toll road, to get to her house as soon as possible.

Christie turned Magellan off until we got closer to Boston, then followed him in what I thought was a circular route to her new house. We arrived about 8:30 in the evening. The place is a beautiful three-story apartment building perched on a hill; Christie’s roommates own the apartment on the third floor. Her roommates were having a party that night; Christie stayed in her room to set up house while I drank sangrias and mingled on her behalf.

Epilogue: Labor Day Weekend

The next day was just a day to relax, do some shopping at the local Target (discount store) for household goods, and eat pizza. And watch “The Amazing Race”, a show about teams who travel around the world to compete for a million dollars. Christie and I think we are highly qualified to compete in this program after our road trip experience.

Christie knew I had never been to Rhode Island or Maine, two states that are less than two hours away from Boston by car. So on Sunday we drove to Maine. When traffic backed up we parked in a parking lot and walked about a mile to Kennebunk beach. That evening we went to a restaurant where I had a lobster roll, a kind of sandwich made from lobster meat (Maine is famous for its lobster). We found a fantastic bakery that had a German chocolate cheese cake which we enjoyed back in Boston that evening.

Monday we drove to Newport, Rhode Island. It’s a small harbor town that used to be the capital when Rhode Island was a colony. We saw the nation’s oldest Jewish synagogue, then drove around and saw the beautiful mansions. We went back via Warwick and Providence so I could see where my brother had gone to school for two years. I could see why he left it to come back to California.

On Tuesday we went to Saugus, Massachusetts, sister city to the town in California where Christie and I went to high school. We had seen the historic ironworks before. This time we explored the main street, town hall, and the other Saugus High School. We even found Newhall Memorial Park, but it was small and it wasn’t a memorial to the same Newhall we knew in our hometown.

From there we headed to downtown Boston; I had to get a Hard Rock café t-shirt for a friend of mine who collects them. I had been to Boston twice before so the brief glimpse we had of it was enough for me before heading off to the airport to fly back to L.A. Christie commented how safe she felt walking in downtown Boston versus downtown L.A. I knew at that point she would be happy in her new home.

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