tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24353194269510635922024-03-05T03:07:17.607-08:00Westward Ho! A Cross Country Road Trip.Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2435319426951063592.post-71198368693755918042013-09-09T15:45:00.004-07:002013-10-17T09:05:11.017-07:00Idaho, Washington, Seattle - We've Arrived!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>To see ALL the photos from our trip, just click <a href="http://bicyclist.smugmug.com/Travel/Our-Trip-Across-Country-August">HERE.</a></b></div>
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Sep 9, 2013</div>
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Well our long journey is coming to an end. This Wednesday we return to New York, flying. We drove one of Dani and Erik's two cars all the way here, covering some 12 states and some 3,200 miles, including a stop at my sister's house in Ohio for a few days. It was very tiring but quite an adventure. I come away with a rewnewed appreciation of the immense size of our country and the incredible beauty, particularly of the western states with their forests, mountains and waterways. I am also thankful to those pioneers who had the foresight to fight for the preservation of these vast areas of beauty and wilderness so that they remain unspoiled from deforestation, mining and commercial exploitation for all time to come. This is a precious gift that we must be vigilant to protect for there are those who would undo that protection. Think "drill baby, drill!"<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our route, from shore to shining shore.</td></tr>
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After Glacier National Park, we took US Route 2 west through Montana to the Idaho border. Here we crossed that state's panhandle - the slender finger of Idaho that points north to separate Montana and Washington. We were on our way to Spokane where we'd stop for the night - our last night on the road. Staying off the interstate in Idaho, our route took us through some pretty Idaho towns. At Bonners Ferry, we turned south on US Route 95. Had we turned right and headed north, we would have been in Canada in 30 miles, so close were we to the border. The resort town of Sandpoint was situated on a an enormous glacial lake, Lake Pend Oreille and was quite beautiful.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxQv10HhFjfPh6hzi9hfRnorAfw-s53rjzMY8_3pkSBaLzOT43vuizJXlRt1tW2zLJq7lup8zUcc20AaO7_fXnroR7pmeiY0jDScWflZAHvpcONIzPUpK8hDQ0EZGXfu_wFXKoH1DnGXzs/s1600/DSC_3069.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: 13px; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="163" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxQv10HhFjfPh6hzi9hfRnorAfw-s53rjzMY8_3pkSBaLzOT43vuizJXlRt1tW2zLJq7lup8zUcc20AaO7_fXnroR7pmeiY0jDScWflZAHvpcONIzPUpK8hDQ0EZGXfu_wFXKoH1DnGXzs/s320/DSC_3069.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The <i>Famous Potatoes</i> state. We lost another hour here.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">We could have turned right here and hit Canada in half an hour...but no passports.<br />
Maybe next time.<br />
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After stopping for the night outside of Spokane, we decided to take a quick spin through town. It's main claim to fame is its waterfall of the same name and it was quite impressive. The power and amount of water allowed the city to build the first hydroelectric plant east of the Mississippi at that location - it still stands today.Back then it powered the city's street cars and streetlights. The city showcased its falls with a lovely park and a couple of foot bridges that span two sections of the river as the water cascades over the falls.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spokane Falls as it cascades down through the center of the city.</td></tr>
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We wandered around the city on foot, three dogs in tow. Some historic old buildings stood out but mostly it was a mix of new skyscrapers and tacky 60's moderne pasted onto and around the older, historic buildings and I thought that poor judgement had been used in preserving their downtown. One glaring example was a gigantic, ugly parking garage that overwhelmed a major downtown intersection. Another was an awful pedestrian overpass, spanning the street below. Why?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was very peculiar: a pedestrian brdige used to cross the streets.<br />
Behind it a historic old building. Thoughtless design I thought.</td></tr>
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After our Spokane tour (for what it was worth), we continued on through Washington state.<br />
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An interesting side note on Washington state: Reading the <i>Times </i>on my laptop each night, there was an <b><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2013/09/07/business/afl-cio-has-plan-to-add-millions-of-nonunion-members.html?smid=pl-share" target="_blank">article </a></b>that discussed the need for revitalization of labor in this country. Washington state has a strong labor movement that has built long lasting relations with communities throughout the state. The state already has the highest minimum wage in the country, $9.19 per hour and now in the town of Seatac, just south of Seattle, labor and community forces are pushing to organize the low-paid workers at the airport of the same name. They are pushing for a public referendum that would create the country's highest minimum wage, $15.00 per hour. Which just goes to prove the adage that <b>when labor is strong, everyone wins</b>. By "everyone" I refer to the 99 percent of us who make up the great majority of our country.</div>
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Back to our trip: The eastern half has vast areas of wide open and arid grasslands - actually a desert. But much has been reclaimed. During the Depression, FDR constructed the Grand Coulee dam (the largest concrete structure in the world!) which was used to electrify the area plus supply water for irrigation that turned the desert into productive farmland. As we traversed Interstate 90, one could see out to the remote horizon at this incredible spread of farmland.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eastern Washington's wide open spaces - converted desert that<br />
now produces apples, pears and fabulous grapes for wine.</td></tr>
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The Columbia basin dominates the eastern two-thirds of the state. The dividing line is the Cascade mountain range which begins after you cross the mighty Columbia River. We wanted to stop and see the Grand Coulee dam but that would have added quite few hours to the trip. As Woody Guthrie called it in his famous song, <i>Roll On Columbia</i>, "the biggest damn thing ever built by the hand," the construction put thousands back to work in the hard-hit West of the depression years and helped build prosperity for Americans out of despair -- a tremendous lesson for today. Listen to Country Joe McDonald sing Guthrie's song <b><a href="https://app.box.com/s/y2qg8pwra84j4u2ij70w" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">here</a> or click PLAY below:</b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We crossed the Columbia River as traveled into western Washington.<br />
Took our breath away with its awesome beauty!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stacey looks out over an incredible valley carved by the mighty Columbia.</td></tr>
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The western third of the state contains the Cascade mountains beyond which are Seattle and the Pacific. We finished our trip and reached Poulbo and Dani and Eric's new house late Thursday afternoon. We were tired and exhilarated. I don't know the next time we'll make such a trip but if we do, it'll definitely be without three dogs in the back of the car. There will plenty to explore out here over the next two years (that's the length of Erik's assignment). So fly or drive ... we'll be back. </div>
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I sincerely hope you enjoyed taking the trip with us.<br />
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Happy trails!<br />
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<b>To see ALL the photos from our trip, just click <a href="http://bicyclist.smugmug.com/Travel/Our-Trip-Across-Country-August">HERE.</a></b><br />
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Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2435319426951063592.post-65991258353686974222013-09-06T00:27:00.002-07:002013-09-06T11:22:22.723-07:00Chillin' Out In Glacier National Park<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Sep 6, 2013</div>
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<b>Note: To see the rest of my Glacier National Park photos, click <a href="http://bicyclist.smugmug.com/Travel/Our-Trip-Across-Country-August/Chillin-In-Glacier/i-FtZgmTB" target="_blank">HERE.</a></b></div>
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also note, that you can click on any photo below to see it larger.</div>
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We left the lovely town of Missoula on Wednesday morning and headed north up towards Glacier National Park. But first we stopped to pick up sandwiches for a picnic enroute at a highly-recommended Italian deli: Tagliare.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWprhvq-P4jrX0CjuAmWbcQeTDFCtbMRL_o7a-XInJ-Ie2CZcEQmH3dpmL_WgT63NDxGjf32KKm9k7ZX1vlAfsFvY1GwiXimfGboTQCF3UjcHtg7NeBYfi5aC3tvaW7mw9Qw7H2-kLaw0l/s1600/DSC_2926.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWprhvq-P4jrX0CjuAmWbcQeTDFCtbMRL_o7a-XInJ-Ie2CZcEQmH3dpmL_WgT63NDxGjf32KKm9k7ZX1vlAfsFvY1GwiXimfGboTQCF3UjcHtg7NeBYfi5aC3tvaW7mw9Qw7H2-kLaw0l/s400/DSC_2926.jpg" width="263" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Missoulian sandwich shop, Tagliare. Super!</td></tr>
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We took I-90 for five miles out of town and then left it for U.S. Route 93 North. This took us through the Mission Valley with stunning view of the Mission Mountain range to the east. A sign explained that as late as 1910 the valley was almost entirely "virgin prairie, unplowed, unfenced and beautiful to see." Well, it was certainly still beautiful and still wide open spaces. But I felt a sense of wonderment that the land around us was not that far removed from the days when bison roamed these grasslands free and unimpeded and the native people subsisted off, and in harmony with, the land and its creatures. I love the idea of being able to touch history and here it felt like you were.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The magnificent Mission Mountain range. </td></tr>
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It was here that we got our first sight of the wild fires that are ravishing the west this year. Wisps of smoke were visible and a local told us that they were unable to land fire fighters because the fire was on a knife edge of the mountain that was too hazardous to get to. The hope was that rain would put it out or that it would burn its way uphill and run out of fuel, in this case trees. If bad luck prevailed though, it would run downhill and "there are houses there and ... " Her voice trailed off before completing the sentence.</div>
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As we got closer to Glacier National Park we stopped in a small town on its southern end and I picked up an Americano at one of the many espresso shacks that are so popular out here, probably coming east from nearby Washington, coffee capitol of the country. They are everywhere on the roads that we traveled. I'm thinking that espresso was probably unknown in these parts ten years ago but now these little roadside kiosks are ubiquitous. And, good news, they all seem to be <i>local </i>enterprises and the coffee was great!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We saw dozens of these little espresso shacks. Each one is decorated by its owner in a<br />
bright and lively design. Cute and very good coffee too!</td></tr>
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Driving on, we came to Flathead Lake, an enormous body of pristine water, along whose eastern shore we drove as we approached the park. It was here, in Yellow Bay State Park that we stopped to enjoy our picnic as we looked out at the beautiful lake.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4bGZtsXwmK517-IUszHr_jzF86v4xwMbXBndhaJgz9d3A2cOIpG5gZO6LjAiufom7DNAGqqCdsd-9l6yAbMFVNvFRDBkPMOgewNuiEU58WvJoPxgFVcB46GMSJBIFc1nzViRydqE8axAN/s1600/DSC_2944.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4bGZtsXwmK517-IUszHr_jzF86v4xwMbXBndhaJgz9d3A2cOIpG5gZO6LjAiufom7DNAGqqCdsd-9l6yAbMFVNvFRDBkPMOgewNuiEU58WvJoPxgFVcB46GMSJBIFc1nzViRydqE8axAN/s400/DSC_2944.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A picnic lunch on Yellow Bay - Flathead Lake.</td></tr>
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After lunch we drove a bit more and reached the entrance to the park. The road took along McDonald Lake, the largest lake in the park. At the northern end of that beautiful body of water stood one of those old, rustic and magnificent mountain lodges. We decided to check it out and entering decided that this would be a nice place to spend a few days - a comfortable and cozy headquarters for day hikes or boating.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPx8CQA1tUyQhyxA-gW_GHQhxqwSlS6-FQVMsRIJza6r9KxM51OXrWwIlkceHELfgSJwUvF62H9q9INJjO2oRp8PCmaf741yKZGGetlIYEuQ132eV81Sv2HmhzaE8iWV8NH4Fg0ZKz76s_/s1600/DSC_2977.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPx8CQA1tUyQhyxA-gW_GHQhxqwSlS6-FQVMsRIJza6r9KxM51OXrWwIlkceHELfgSJwUvF62H9q9INJjO2oRp8PCmaf741yKZGGetlIYEuQ132eV81Sv2HmhzaE8iWV8NH4Fg0ZKz76s_/s320/DSC_2977.jpg" width="211" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">McDonald Lodge. It's perched on a pristine lake and<br />
surrounded by towering mountains. Rutic - inside and out</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeoH35UmGcF-tsiVipQAdgTGnuy5oXc5-07mnd9S-3FtvhI1SsL511OkHb4iJ0L7oTdfu0FyCSUATZr_-kJLyMal8dg4HtT51FxMctDwoXyqlbtwr3B2d1ZNhLiT1m4xDDYwxKYTa5eiFw/s1600/DSC_2953.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeoH35UmGcF-tsiVipQAdgTGnuy5oXc5-07mnd9S-3FtvhI1SsL511OkHb4iJ0L7oTdfu0FyCSUATZr_-kJLyMal8dg4HtT51FxMctDwoXyqlbtwr3B2d1ZNhLiT1m4xDDYwxKYTa5eiFw/s400/DSC_2953.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stacey at the entrance to Glacier.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPx8CQA1tUyQhyxA-gW_GHQhxqwSlS6-FQVMsRIJza6r9KxM51OXrWwIlkceHELfgSJwUvF62H9q9INJjO2oRp8PCmaf741yKZGGetlIYEuQ132eV81Sv2HmhzaE8iWV8NH4Fg0ZKz76s_/s1600/DSC_2977.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPx8CQA1tUyQhyxA-gW_GHQhxqwSlS6-FQVMsRIJza6r9KxM51OXrWwIlkceHELfgSJwUvF62H9q9INJjO2oRp8PCmaf741yKZGGetlIYEuQ132eV81Sv2HmhzaE8iWV8NH4Fg0ZKz76s_/s400/DSC_2977.jpg" width="263" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful McDonald Lodge, perched on the northern end of the lake of the same name.</td></tr>
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Now the road was climbing higher and higher, clinging precariously to the side of the mountains, an amazing engineering feat. The views, as we turned each curvy switchback, awesome. We were headed to Logan Pass in the middle of the park. Snow was packed in crevasses at the higher elevations. Waterfalls came pouring down ravines that the water had carved over time - some spurted out from the side of a moutain and free fell hundreds of feet down into the valley far below. Truly breathtaking.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZE_tVrTLnzOn8nBbKJ0VQO2vut9lo3j9LmQMPVAJGOkA7BDXb4Xk1GXlin_THbsl6yki01WlIFsjUdFU00olfYw-wqFpVSwvv2f7-ZaIbMeKeIlzKIrUiDpyU-yjaUu-4IM6XzTpJ-NiM/s1600/DSC_3024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZE_tVrTLnzOn8nBbKJ0VQO2vut9lo3j9LmQMPVAJGOkA7BDXb4Xk1GXlin_THbsl6yki01WlIFsjUdFU00olfYw-wqFpVSwvv2f7-ZaIbMeKeIlzKIrUiDpyU-yjaUu-4IM6XzTpJ-NiM/s400/DSC_3024.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The road is carved into the edge of the mountain - driving is a little daunting<br />
but the views -- awesome and breathtaking.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy9CrKQQwCTC0UR89yhz6MX8JHx48M_ljqEZEM5IhNqHA8QrgZOkNPeNu2imuNJ4s7-ac5PvKmCEiAU0jSfm8cvRSOEhCvGXjdV3g4J4sh1pkSggi6zNc-Dq9TVgDJnVomV0a6vPrGCO54/s1600/DSC_3048.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy9CrKQQwCTC0UR89yhz6MX8JHx48M_ljqEZEM5IhNqHA8QrgZOkNPeNu2imuNJ4s7-ac5PvKmCEiAU0jSfm8cvRSOEhCvGXjdV3g4J4sh1pkSggi6zNc-Dq9TVgDJnVomV0a6vPrGCO54/s400/DSC_3048.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking out at from where we came. </td></tr>
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Reaching Logan Pass we turned back. We had a several hour ride to reach our hotel in Kalispel, Montana. From there we would drive into and across the Idaho Panhandle and stop in Spokane, Washington, our last night out before reaching Poulsbo and Dani and Erik's new home.<br />
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But more on that in my very last post. Stay tuned. Ciao, baby! - Matt<br />
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<b>To see the rest of my Glacier National Park photos, click <a href="http://bicyclist.smugmug.com/Travel/Our-Trip-Across-Country-August/Chillin-In-Glacier/i-FtZgmTB" target="_blank">HERE.</a></b></div>
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Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2435319426951063592.post-23582800175833493432013-09-04T22:05:00.003-07:002013-09-05T07:05:37.982-07:00Missoula, Montana. A Sweet Little Town.Sep 5, 2013 - (Writing From Spokane, Washington)<br />
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** At the bottom of this post you can see the rest of my Missoula photos by following a link **<br />
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After the mini-fiasco of a late day visit to Yellowstone and then a long, long nightime drive to Bozeman and a hotel, we needed a rest. So leaving Bozeman we headed further west on Interstate 90 to Missoula, Montana, a sweet college town nestled in mountains with the Clark Fork river running through it, it has a youthful and liberal sensibility.<br />
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Missoula had been a sleepy little crossroads until the Northern Pacific railroad came to town in 1883 and transformed it into a prosperous commercial center and helping build the local lumber industry. Today, the lumber industry has long departed and the University of Montana is the largest employer.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimhK-kQaFqa9S0T59NrH7KerYKMGQHei6AHe0yZjnrKF1SwFunMHjvqNbOyD-F4pb0ff6Dzqm3s0P09fG5SuDzKTYLMnc__yvZS7pM61bFkZceBmsutTvOlSTuLyhd-TQgF5mudXw2jnxg/s1600/DSC_2873sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimhK-kQaFqa9S0T59NrH7KerYKMGQHei6AHe0yZjnrKF1SwFunMHjvqNbOyD-F4pb0ff6Dzqm3s0P09fG5SuDzKTYLMnc__yvZS7pM61bFkZceBmsutTvOlSTuLyhd-TQgF5mudXw2jnxg/s400/DSC_2873sm.jpg" width="263" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Missoula Country Court House</td></tr>
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It was good to sleep late and not to have to drive for hours. So we took our time and wandered around the town. Our friend Jane has family in Missoula. She supplied us with a list of restaurants and other points of interest and that helped us explore.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQZ4WF06V5UHvCLZu88Cbh3P0jBfh1rhM7PR-MTnRwJkND3geA82CL92FZxqdi9bX6mjIhVVc9HXY2I-q0giWIK1q_bFTq2RtNHpGUCPkB95PzJIZQmeFKh8c5SIxe0BHEn4NmJsJKxuZj/s1600/DSC_2879sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQZ4WF06V5UHvCLZu88Cbh3P0jBfh1rhM7PR-MTnRwJkND3geA82CL92FZxqdi9bX6mjIhVVc9HXY2I-q0giWIK1q_bFTq2RtNHpGUCPkB95PzJIZQmeFKh8c5SIxe0BHEn4NmJsJKxuZj/s400/DSC_2879sm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A "mirror" shot</td></tr>
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One of the things we had been noting as we were driving through the west was the popularity of bicycle touring. We saw cyclists, fully loaded with bags and supplies, rolling up steep mountains, bound for destinations far away. One guy replied, when I asked him where he was coming from, said "Jackson, Wyoming.," That was hundreds of miles distant. Impressive. Some people are very adventurous and I love that. The town itself was very bicycle oriented with lot of dedicated cycle paths and lots and lots of people commuting around the city on two wheels and under their own power. Many of those were students but I also saw many older people going here and there by bike - the town has made it very easy for them.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvbUi8tfC9vUFKpgc6iC7gh5eb4DMlksWJ4jEeJQHONq3Do758CF_L2J_a-cSI4p7C3mHbW1n6LacK-3c3e6U4WS8RnffNRz55P7gswu7bL3VrHAoq6ftTKomQ5nhwVkmbm93rUMhWWxwi/s1600/DSC_2881sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvbUi8tfC9vUFKpgc6iC7gh5eb4DMlksWJ4jEeJQHONq3Do758CF_L2J_a-cSI4p7C3mHbW1n6LacK-3c3e6U4WS8RnffNRz55P7gswu7bL3VrHAoq6ftTKomQ5nhwVkmbm93rUMhWWxwi/s400/DSC_2881sm.jpg" width="263" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Missoula actively promotes cycling and it's a destination for cyclists from all over.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1zP713B1T_BX0y3V1u4PvKZgvB5SvmTWP4uJS_Sda4JDsWpS_D7IZZ__ZbEV1_ql6qNyE1E5AxLyFiC6BQ0X4JuLDZ2XhqxixGpgqsw7iyg5k4BJ-fhKYyaZyb10kp9CuNt-SgMVTg6mm/s1600/DSC01121sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1zP713B1T_BX0y3V1u4PvKZgvB5SvmTWP4uJS_Sda4JDsWpS_D7IZZ__ZbEV1_ql6qNyE1E5AxLyFiC6BQ0X4JuLDZ2XhqxixGpgqsw7iyg5k4BJ-fhKYyaZyb10kp9CuNt-SgMVTg6mm/s400/DSC01121sm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bikes all over town. Nice!</td></tr>
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We really loved Montana. There are less than a million people in the entire state. But what amazing beauty! After two nights inMissoula, we'd travel north through the Mission Valley, past enormous Flathead Lake and into the remote and incredibly beautiful Glacier National Park. What a great trip this has been! Later!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVjFNrNo_brwrh-To_kX7xuTfdzX_mf8c1RqTF-QB2A3Wn9Y8FU_vPSe50Xk2i8Q1GgC1Hz1NxdiyL1Y6h2z8qIYB4SOWoiNWejKDuwCOC2huR-KrvBIB0_vDcKqQqsGKanGBk0QKDBA8V/s1600/DSC01124sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVjFNrNo_brwrh-To_kX7xuTfdzX_mf8c1RqTF-QB2A3Wn9Y8FU_vPSe50Xk2i8Q1GgC1Hz1NxdiyL1Y6h2z8qIYB4SOWoiNWejKDuwCOC2huR-KrvBIB0_vDcKqQqsGKanGBk0QKDBA8V/s400/DSC01124sm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Missoula is nestled in the mountain. It's a center for lovers of nature, bikers and hikers.<br />
In five minutes you can leave the city and find yourself in rugged and beautiful forest and mountain.</td></tr>
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<b>See the rest of my Missoula photos <a href="http://bicyclist.smugmug.com/Travel/Our-Trip-Across-Country-August/Missoula-Montana-Its-A-Nice/i-Q5rWF6H" target="_blank">HERE.</a></b>Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2435319426951063592.post-63699908436893234272013-09-02T17:25:00.001-07:002013-09-03T08:26:18.234-07:00Oh Yellowstone! But Oh So Short!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Sep 2, 2013</div>
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Labor Day weekend was a day away and we were having trouble finding a hotel room in Missoula for Saturday and Sunday. Checking various hotels on my computer in our hotel room in Sheridan, Wyoming, I came up with, er, zero availability. Why had we been so tardy in checking?<br />
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We've become very laid back travelers in recent years. I blame this, partly, on the advent of smart phones and partly on being jaded and experienced sojourners. Now we no longer buy tour books or maps, believing, stupidly, that we can do everything on a phone or computer. That got us into a lot of trouble last summer in the U.K. when driving, with friends Janie and Mark, from the Cotswolds to Wales. "Don't worry, I'll use Google Maps and GPS on my phone," I had boasted. The only problem with that idea is that you have to have cellular service for it to work and that turned out to be very spotty or non-existant in rural sections of England. As a result we ended up going around in a big circle leaving Stow-On-The-Wold and then finding ourselves right back where we had started an hour before! Likewise, when we crossed from England to Wales and within striking distance of our destination, an hour later we came across a sign that said "Welcome To England" ... we were back at the border! Funny but it didn't <i>seem </i>funny when it happened as it turned a four hour trip into seven!<br />
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Anyway, what to do about that problem of no hotel rooms (remember, travelling with three dogs in the back seat, leaves us with fewer choices to start with)? Finally we decided that we'd cut west through Yellowstone Park instead of skirting it and heading to Missoula. And after Yellowstone, we'd stop for Saturday night in Bozeman instead of Missoula, pushing our arrival there forward to Sunday and Monday. That new combination of room requests worked. But we didn't realize how long the trip to and through Yellowstone would take and how late in the day we'd reach the park (almost at sunset).<br />
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Truthfully, Yellowstone deserves a week not a late afternoon excursion. Sitting in a Mexican restaurant in the sweet town of Cody at 4 o'clock, Stacey suggested we stay there for the night, tour Yellowstone the next day (Sunday) and then hit Missoula on Monday. A perfectly sane and logical idea which I, as a stubborn old man, thought ridiculous. She was right. I was wrong. Having said that, Yellowstone was gorgeous and Bighorn National Forest, which we had to cross first, took our breath away with its rugged mountains, twisty-turny road with a multitude of switchbacks and spectacular views.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI-Vnvpz8u7GIIoCefbjOVq931sNCRucphmR-ACFbqL5KY2Bh7d4NsndOku0y3CvOTXGmtPzMOLFinwakE5Hy0vAJ1lF1UDCk4bVzeuvoazsgD8Gs_D6W5nTIOxxmbZdpYWUY6X7gUpfHH/s1600/temp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI-Vnvpz8u7GIIoCefbjOVq931sNCRucphmR-ACFbqL5KY2Bh7d4NsndOku0y3CvOTXGmtPzMOLFinwakE5Hy0vAJ1lF1UDCk4bVzeuvoazsgD8Gs_D6W5nTIOxxmbZdpYWUY6X7gUpfHH/s400/temp.jpg" width="400" /></a> </td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beginning at Sheridan, we crossed Bighorn, had a late lunch at Cody, then continued into Yellowstone.<br />
Finally a long, long (and dark) drive to our Saturday night hotel in Bozeman, Montana.<br />
<b>CLICK MAP to see it large.</b></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pyramid Peak viewed from a turnout in Bighorn National Forest.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIyVBAhy6cwpJ9wpDhIpzKguXdx_crRktry0FN9GmWuSRueEKKMAw8v56KA8N8c7eaazyLI9LlKeJczYU3KMzuY15OthlG6rEjkey4HvujRSA_BMKldTjGBQgp_ft4bJvGB_EjiBpJBPQ_/s1600/DSC01003sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIyVBAhy6cwpJ9wpDhIpzKguXdx_crRktry0FN9GmWuSRueEKKMAw8v56KA8N8c7eaazyLI9LlKeJczYU3KMzuY15OthlG6rEjkey4HvujRSA_BMKldTjGBQgp_ft4bJvGB_EjiBpJBPQ_/s400/DSC01003sm.jpg" width="265" /></a> </td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More people live on my block in Brooklyn than in Shell, Montana.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The sun was about to set as we finally hit Yellowstone Park. The first things to greet us as we rounded a curve were a trio of enormous bison. They plodded slowly right toward us, giving us a jolt and a scare though they didn't even look at us as they passed our car.<br />
<div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7JDqby8Pnz3obtfZmdUxhGMuDV6oDYcZPXpa9GEzmX7FnZDjLTaNaNOHUEi5cOB3x7iOCkAkYcjVMssQNleCVI5LQh7vJxTcAozw8qbV40yIXL1UQHGlapzDHKn6X6lTqIzy18lRdINi1/s1600/DSC01011sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7JDqby8Pnz3obtfZmdUxhGMuDV6oDYcZPXpa9GEzmX7FnZDjLTaNaNOHUEi5cOB3x7iOCkAkYcjVMssQNleCVI5LQh7vJxTcAozw8qbV40yIXL1UQHGlapzDHKn6X6lTqIzy18lRdINi1/s400/DSC01011sm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rounding a bend in the road, who should we see but three beautiful beasts.<br />
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<div>
Though it was late in the day it was still beautiful to see vast Yellowstone Lake. It brought back memories of my last trip there in 1965 with my dear friend Lonnie. But this time, sadly, huge areas of the park had been hit in recent years by forest fires and blackened stalks of pine trees lined the sides of mountains. New growth was already replacing the old, burned trees but news reports say that this season out west is the worst one ever. Another sign of the fragile and perilous state of our environment (GOP foolish naysayers notwithstanding).</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTjcdoVxSZKAwUdmgR2IVQltKKbbHaMp7tEqIz-4IlxM_TLHtjebyNLBbY7rO03VIgWqMSn-Dg45lRpenzZtqQMpEKFh9_1bGhQvHk9emsK-gYgIpTs7cPZWAPFW1_7K0ZA3aUDtBkymWl/s1600/DSC01025sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTjcdoVxSZKAwUdmgR2IVQltKKbbHaMp7tEqIz-4IlxM_TLHtjebyNLBbY7rO03VIgWqMSn-Dg45lRpenzZtqQMpEKFh9_1bGhQvHk9emsK-gYgIpTs7cPZWAPFW1_7K0ZA3aUDtBkymWl/s320/DSC01025sm.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful Lake Yellowstone brought back memories of my last trip in 1965.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxBxT2Im6_uUi7PStTfbZORA4Ct1hQpjfYRg41fTTNRs9ATIqJrCzh6Dg6DZHUhvTTx64M3vOtKoY7cmPP_VWPbAiqPBoLfVWBHgKGkaWiGbCUysVw3m65r6gf9exebUy3o16mPmQa80OC/s1600/DSC01017sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxBxT2Im6_uUi7PStTfbZORA4Ct1hQpjfYRg41fTTNRs9ATIqJrCzh6Dg6DZHUhvTTx64M3vOtKoY7cmPP_VWPbAiqPBoLfVWBHgKGkaWiGbCUysVw3m65r6gf9exebUy3o16mPmQa80OC/s400/DSC01017sm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Large tracts of fire-damaged pine forest greeted our view.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
We drove half way around the lake and saw still more bison feasting on long grass next to a campground. They ignored the humans who were ogling them, preferring the long grass to chatting with people. With one last view of the sunset-lit lake, we continued on for another two hours in the dark, to our hotel room in Bozeman. Tomorrow we would head for Missoula where we'd stay two days on the recommendation of our friend Jane who has family there. She visits regularly and highly recommends exploring this sweet college town. On that, more in my next post.<br />
<br />
Can you wait till then?<br />
<br />
- Matt<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8i4Gvv8GNDmG0Sh7Q3tawMcc2KMuecFmKiUxA_VRIRhy9N7133i6Q72B93c0e-eE5mPKXEXu_NyVIE_biVDY7jhZXJzb7xrTvVbfV1YAI95y8KFjLQoMHUE88rGB_SeIeHrnEfwxEHrLw/s1600/DSC01036sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8i4Gvv8GNDmG0Sh7Q3tawMcc2KMuecFmKiUxA_VRIRhy9N7133i6Q72B93c0e-eE5mPKXEXu_NyVIE_biVDY7jhZXJzb7xrTvVbfV1YAI95y8KFjLQoMHUE88rGB_SeIeHrnEfwxEHrLw/s400/DSC01036sm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bison feeding on long grass right next to a campground. Humans? Whatever.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3wz9cifwZtnpRICXJ9Bw3KO_Es9a25wF0ngCEUGX_f0JP4xnsqJTkS4lWbWr_P-18VmF7AFcgNDvE9AxxychwF8gVg032Orum6w9eO8NXM3bGqxlA9bTLr624AAx9ByqFY5kyK8zJzp82/s1600/DSC01067sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3wz9cifwZtnpRICXJ9Bw3KO_Es9a25wF0ngCEUGX_f0JP4xnsqJTkS4lWbWr_P-18VmF7AFcgNDvE9AxxychwF8gVg032Orum6w9eO8NXM3bGqxlA9bTLr624AAx9ByqFY5kyK8zJzp82/s400/DSC01067sm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our last view of Yellowstone Lake, lit by sunset.<br />
<b>Again, click to see full size!</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div>
<b>To see the rest of today's photos go <a href="http://bicyclist.smugmug.com/Travel/Our-Trip-Across-Country-August/Bighorn-National-ForestAnd/i-BWnhjqX" target="_blank">HERE</a>.</b><br />
<br /></div>
Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2435319426951063592.post-42815533931920094652013-09-01T18:55:00.002-07:002013-09-01T21:16:25.773-07:00Spectacular South Dakota<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sep 1, 2013</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span> I'm writing from Missoula, Montana but you won't get to read about that until ... whenever.<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm always a day or three behind on my blog. First, driving many hours a day leaves me very tired at the end of the day to edit photos and extract words to put down on "paper" a composed blog post. Like George Bush said about his job at the White House - "it's not easy." And, by the time I get around to it, I've forgotten where we've been on what day. Looking at the photos helps a bit. But, by <i>George</i>, it's not easy. Also, and this may only be a perception, I'm more tired at the end of the day than I used to be.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: inherit;">I left you last time while we were crossing the Mississippi River from Minnesota to South Dakota. If Minnesota was wide open with vast corn fields, western South Dakota was even more so. We had spent the night well off the Interstate in Kasson, Minnesota, a speck of a town, sixteen miles wet of Rochester, home of the famous Mayo clinic. </span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwzmCpspK7fqf2vmNqzpU497lKIMeoSg8hMM_rzW3nSjldNPC7_Sl5HQgh1qiv7IEoCei2PrVzCpX-Vyvej2mURRLF-ALXA-rwWg3jKhOzgcjEUB93WqnvYpCwv7sYYjK3JCQGpXoVLnFF/s1600/DSC00804.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="277" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwzmCpspK7fqf2vmNqzpU497lKIMeoSg8hMM_rzW3nSjldNPC7_Sl5HQgh1qiv7IEoCei2PrVzCpX-Vyvej2mURRLF-ALXA-rwWg3jKhOzgcjEUB93WqnvYpCwv7sYYjK3JCQGpXoVLnFF/s400/DSC00804.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Entering South Dakota just east of the state's<br />
largest city, Sioux Falls.<br />
<b>Note: you can see any photo larger and clearer </b><br />
<b>by simply clicking on it.</b><br />
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The next morning we stayed off the Interstate, driving west instead on U.S. Route 14. That took us through tiny towns and endless farmland as we drove 235 miles from our motel in Minnesota to South Dakota and that state's largest city, Sioux Falls. We met the kids there to give Ethan his video game charger that had been left in our car by mistake. We also stopped for lunch after visiting the falls that gave the city its name. The Big Sioux river had been diverted during the ice age, causing it to cut an impressive waterfall through red rock that was scattered all around the city's park.<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYxOK1k2P9-aFUzKvk2g_7YOKCoGmDXMhW7LjLKCWy74yFdtyPg4gr16Oujyf-GG3r565UDFILzwFut283gko9ukvWh3YW6SWeO8bPypeiBM1UrXo8yL2vuZJ0H0WsW2b284DGsSXSGUmM/s1600/DSC00820.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYxOK1k2P9-aFUzKvk2g_7YOKCoGmDXMhW7LjLKCWy74yFdtyPg4gr16Oujyf-GG3r565UDFILzwFut283gko9ukvWh3YW6SWeO8bPypeiBM1UrXo8yL2vuZJ0H0WsW2b284DGsSXSGUmM/s400/DSC00820.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The waterfall that gives SD's largest city its name: Sioux Falls.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">After lunch we continued on our way and made a quick stop in the small town of Mitchell whose only claim to fame is its <b>Corn Palace.</b> This building, a multi-purpose arena, community center, meeting place has a facade that is decorated, and changed annually, entirely with corn products: cobs, husks, fibers and other grains. It's quite a site to see. Otherwise, Mitchell Shmitchell. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqsNYbISN-MWFolzURUzF0nRTTDcezQmSwObTFzVVoNe1h3mbxQc0WKvrZGChBb55yGmBBnV4dGtfV2IKDla2bBECVavVrS_cdWgpU8FwdjX6dy0TcQpmywJQCr-zzHeimSp2tqMwCUoLt/s1600/DSC00845sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqsNYbISN-MWFolzURUzF0nRTTDcezQmSwObTFzVVoNe1h3mbxQc0WKvrZGChBb55yGmBBnV4dGtfV2IKDla2bBECVavVrS_cdWgpU8FwdjX6dy0TcQpmywJQCr-zzHeimSp2tqMwCUoLt/s400/DSC00845sm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mitchell, South Dakota's famous Corn Palace, decorated<br />
entirely with corn cobs, husks, etc.<br />
<br /></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-XbyRTRC6DtpIp0FZe8K7AzCqa5n5kWWyirGa3B69rq7v6D2H8E2fi-9X9ZGP4Ws3s01KXwJIr-HCd-NaAUL1-Bz8fbYcNnhBJKrN5LScjLf7LxTnqUjo8heSC46hGv_PNrfCLZiPMxFy/s1600/DSC00850sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-XbyRTRC6DtpIp0FZe8K7AzCqa5n5kWWyirGa3B69rq7v6D2H8E2fi-9X9ZGP4Ws3s01KXwJIr-HCd-NaAUL1-Bz8fbYcNnhBJKrN5LScjLf7LxTnqUjo8heSC46hGv_PNrfCLZiPMxFy/s400/DSC00850sm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look closely (click the picture for a larger view). Corn cobs, husks, fibers<br />
and other grains are used to decorate this enormous building. Changed annually.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Further west we crossed the Missouri River and staying, again off the Interstate, in South Dakota's very small and parochial city of Pierre. Even though we had driven west after crossing the river on I-90, our hotel in Pierre was on that great river as well. That's because the Missouri <i>comes </i>from way out west - its headwaters are in western Montana. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">I Googled "Missouri River" to find out that it's the longest tributary in North America running some 2,341 miles to join the Mississippi just north of St. Louis. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: inherit;">Read <b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Missouri_River" target="_blank">more here</a> </b>about this important river that was explored by Lewis and Clark as they were looking, unsuccesfully, for a Northwest Passage. It's a treasure that's rich in American history.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdhyhncljvYUks6TUA3K71R98xkDuq-wc1eV1rBs4VSPOYnmPn8dm98FawErg4GfcR-Ei-Ggi_cHU75P8tlwZ6SkV-x8LpkxCxXHlfyj7BNtX2z889lZmxzu1WAatVnU_95OstLira6HeG/s1600/DSC00861.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdhyhncljvYUks6TUA3K71R98xkDuq-wc1eV1rBs4VSPOYnmPn8dm98FawErg4GfcR-Ei-Ggi_cHU75P8tlwZ6SkV-x8LpkxCxXHlfyj7BNtX2z889lZmxzu1WAatVnU_95OstLira6HeG/s400/DSC00861.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crossing the Missouri River . You're looking north at I-90 below.<br />
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We left Pierre and again drove along U.S. Route 14, preferring to see the non-Interstate America. All along the way we were being beckoned to stop in Wall, SD, which is the gateway to the Badlands, one of our must-sees for this trip. In Wall was the famous Wall Drug Store, which might have been a pharmacy once upon a time (founded in 1937). Now it's a hokey collection of stores that sell South Dakota shtick, western art and Dakotan tourist mementos (made in China). It wasn't worth the stop.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix9lZ0pPzd17g9mx0pE9rnYQyNn1OK2afje7TyRBbXCfKInWbYvLLHaygDxl7rHlba0xaFMXFE55RKa1svQY_WQQFsrsu8tgloEOtm1Z0pykvmK519dzzADRDab5ZqxsBZe5-EomBPu9PU/s1600/DSC00906sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix9lZ0pPzd17g9mx0pE9rnYQyNn1OK2afje7TyRBbXCfKInWbYvLLHaygDxl7rHlba0xaFMXFE55RKa1svQY_WQQFsrsu8tgloEOtm1Z0pykvmK519dzzADRDab5ZqxsBZe5-EomBPu9PU/s400/DSC00906sm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wall, South Dakota's <i>Wall Drug </i>store. A tourist stop if you<br />
want some SD shtick and other hokey souvenenirs. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMYdhZ9hCQBr79kWKFItJC9Z2dQ9daWincYG_OhHJr-Lw72Sr6r4GOiFA89OdHSRKWywnyPPXZBAHHRlvpjJFIRUWLbzAaRqx4g4zhM8PihQMXijQpSV6lPs4wFvAZ93qE0ml2_s10JBY5/s1600/DSC00905s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMYdhZ9hCQBr79kWKFItJC9Z2dQ9daWincYG_OhHJr-Lw72Sr6r4GOiFA89OdHSRKWywnyPPXZBAHHRlvpjJFIRUWLbzAaRqx4g4zhM8PihQMXijQpSV6lPs4wFvAZ93qE0ml2_s10JBY5/s400/DSC00905s.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Biggie meets bison (stuffed).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Wall Drug was not worth the stop but it was, indeed, the door to the Badlands. Right outside of town we got on the loop road into that amazing area which is hard to describe in words. Here's the Wikipedia description:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
A badlands (also badland) is/are a type of dry terrain where softer sedimentary rocks and clay-rich soils have been extensively eroded by wind and water. It can resemble malpaís, a terrain of volcanic rock. Canyons, ravines, gullies, hoodoos and other such geological forms are common in badlands. They are often difficult to navigate by foot. Badlands often have a spectacular color display that alternates from dark black/blue coal stria to bright clays to red scoria.</blockquote>
In 1935, the famous architecht Frank Lloyd Wright wrote --<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"I've been about the world a lot and pretty much over our own country, but I was totally unprepared for that revelation called the Dakota Bad Lands... What I saw gave me indescribable sense of mysterious otherwhere." </blockquote>
And Matthew Weinstein wrote -<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"This is one hell of a crazy, unworldly, moon-like landscape unlike anything you can imagine." </blockquote>
It took us several hours to traverse the beautiful loop road that took us around and through this breathtaking geography. The National Park Service, which has been slashed to shreds by the GOP-inspired sequester and cutbacks and their loathing of "big government," has done a magnificent job of preserving this spectacular region and allowing Americans an easy but gentle access to it. I cannot imagine what would be left of our precious National Parks if they were allowed to carry their extreme positions to fruition. And say thanks to that Park Ranger and the NPS. They do such great work with so little in resources.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Beautiful and the Bad. Stacey at a viewpoint in Badlands National Park.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Other worldy Badlands. (Click for a large view).</td></tr>
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<iframe frameborder="0" height="240" scrolling="no" src="http://api.smugmug.com/services/embed/2737483512_c7DMd2q?width=425&height=240" width="425"></iframe><br /></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Press PLAY ► (above) </span></i><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"> for a short video tour of the Dakota Badlands.</span></i></span></i></div>
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After completing our Badlands tour we continued driving, out of South Dakota and into Wyoming. We stopped in Sheridan. From there we'd venture into Yellowstone, the crown jewel of the National Parks system. But that was more of an adventure than a venture. But to find out why, you'll have to stay tuned for my next post. Until then....a bientot. - Matt<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welcome to Wyoming - wild and wide open!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Driving toward our motel in Sheridan, Wyoming -- our first view of the Rockies. Wow!</td></tr>
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<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To see the rest of today's photos just click <a href="http://bicyclist.smugmug.com/Travel/Our-Trip-Across-Country-August/Moving-On-From-Ohio-To-South/i-cVVCDKd" target="_blank">HERE.</a></span></b></div>
Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2435319426951063592.post-12537720334341251072013-08-30T05:33:00.002-07:002013-09-01T16:53:11.208-07:00The Wide Open SpacesAnd Lots Of Corn!Aug 30, 2013<br />
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Writing this post on Friday, August 31st from Sheridan, Wyoming, just outside Yellowstone Park. We've been putting on the miles and I'm tired at the end of the day. I feel like the guy in Woody Gutrhie's song, <i>Hard Travelin' -- take a <b><a href="https://app.box.com/s/22etvj4jhd8bmje5enku" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">listen</a>. </b></i><br />
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We left Duba and Buddy on Wednesday, bound for the Chicago area where we'd exchange kids for two more dogs (we already had our Biggie with us): Brooklyn and Annapolis - Dani's cocker spaniels and our <i>grand-dogs</i>. We were worried about travelling another full day's drive with the kids but that concern was misplaced - they did well and were tuned in to the countryside and towns that we were passing through. There was a constant banter and lots of questions about things that we passed.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik5n_wFW-zSJZ0hyphenhyphen5pU3JD2FHhJvCcS9vNqyRlmrLwh2ndhChU3W_16YC_jbVeE-M4lrzcTSLJK8zn-8YameXeceqTVLnU8BbMT5msfsBGIfk8ktKm20q_Iqw2oVG16fTuHAn2sEeml9wM/s1600/DSC00707.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik5n_wFW-zSJZ0hyphenhyphen5pU3JD2FHhJvCcS9vNqyRlmrLwh2ndhChU3W_16YC_jbVeE-M4lrzcTSLJK8zn-8YameXeceqTVLnU8BbMT5msfsBGIfk8ktKm20q_Iqw2oVG16fTuHAn2sEeml9wM/s320/DSC00707.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Note: CLICK ON ANY PHOTO TO SEE IT LARGER</b><br />
We left Duba and Buddy and continued on our way. <br />
Destination: Merrillville, Indiana - just south of Chicago. <br />
This is the main crossroads in the small Ohio town of New Philadlephia: <br />
"Welome To Our City."</td></tr>
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Driving through Ohio we ended up in Merrillville, Indiana. I guess there might be an actual town there but, as you must know if you've ever traversed America's Interstates, each exit is a horrible collection of chain hotels, chain eateries and other signs of corporate domination of travel. Stacey and I try our best to eat healthy food but it really is a severe test of one's commitment to do that when you're on the road. Family-owned restaurants with home-made fare have largely disappeared from the scene. We've managed, like detectives, to find them here and there in our travels and it's always a reward when you do, but, travelling with kids who don't eat a wide variety of foods makes it even more challenging. So after unpacking in our Merrillville hotel, we tried an <b>Outback Steakhouse</b>, thinking "how bad could it be?" This is how bad: the bill came to $100.00 (yes, we had a few drinks - we deserved them, didn't we, after 10 hours of driving)? For that we got two disgusting <i>inedible </i>hamburgers with fries for the children. Why inedible? Because even Ethan complained that he couldn't eat it because "it's too salty Grandpa." I tasted it -- it was awful! Our so-called steaks didn't resemble meat either in taste or texture. It had obviously been brined or rubbed in some concoction. <b>Outback </b>prides itself on its "down under" origins so all its food is "seasoned" with spices that supposedly reflect Australian cooking. Basically, that comes down to SALT and more SALT! That was the flavor of the steak that they served. Regarding texture: none; just easy-to-chew, tenderized meat rather more like chewing on a soggy sponge than steak. Awful, awful, awful!<br />
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The next day I ruminated over this beautiful country of ours and the contradictions - the magnificent open spaces, the incredible variety of landscapes, the beautiful old towns and farms that we passed. And the vast wasteland of corporate-dominated crossroads at Interstate exits offering nothing to dine in but McDonald's, Wendy's, Hardees, Subways, Outbacks, Pizza Huts and on and on, ad nauseum. So very sad what they've done to our land and to our people. Talking about people, folks fed this stuff as a constant in their lives become used to it and actually begin to crave it, seeing it as the normand the gold standard in dining. That's even more tragic as the impact on American's health is evident in the obesity epidemic when your diet consists largely of fat and salt. Disease such as diabetes, high blood pressure and heart disease is on the rise as well. <i>Outback Salthouse</i> is what it should be called - maybe that would warn people to stay away.<br />
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Back at the hotel, after that disastrous dinner, the kids fell asleep quickly and so did we.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVwOvGSDZUARzjb9l9Wl6-o8OwapY7LDrI606wS3K5-P6ZBkNXcpJSbXdsEgYZHA1WoRFi3x7o9exZM-A_Gu1A2w9qN8FpLF6sVFYC4puqP1hlDMKW-cWal8L7tsAQPS26-2CNAK5jAzVf/s1600/DSC00720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVwOvGSDZUARzjb9l9Wl6-o8OwapY7LDrI606wS3K5-P6ZBkNXcpJSbXdsEgYZHA1WoRFi3x7o9exZM-A_Gu1A2w9qN8FpLF6sVFYC4puqP1hlDMKW-cWal8L7tsAQPS26-2CNAK5jAzVf/s320/DSC00720.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stopping on the road for a<br />
chocolate dip.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSVIHJDvhKf_Z_egc8bb07MPrfx9_sj1BrYGQQTAvPzl1eVZgyby3Uopvl9CCCayRWJmPwGN6oF1JdycweSg4EsGJ53Z129SyOjcpcV-1qv9dVHMF9mjXPEeWL0BS1IrbmQH1Uim3eOepy/s1600/DSC00721.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSVIHJDvhKf_Z_egc8bb07MPrfx9_sj1BrYGQQTAvPzl1eVZgyby3Uopvl9CCCayRWJmPwGN6oF1JdycweSg4EsGJ53Z129SyOjcpcV-1qv9dVHMF9mjXPEeWL0BS1IrbmQH1Uim3eOepy/s320/DSC00721.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sammy - Yummy!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOHHZKxvk6MtEbklKjYDKBWhkN-DY9bqwB_ZaEht4J1_sOV8oBxsjg8AoITJX6kzNcexkyzNBmbSxm0lmsSlUSXgHGEH0Mpc2pokbjDdO7PNUYaIIspUDVqN7qdjSNmhu2MiZN0LMF0nym/s1600/DSC00738.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOHHZKxvk6MtEbklKjYDKBWhkN-DY9bqwB_ZaEht4J1_sOV8oBxsjg8AoITJX6kzNcexkyzNBmbSxm0lmsSlUSXgHGEH0Mpc2pokbjDdO7PNUYaIIspUDVqN7qdjSNmhu2MiZN0LMF0nym/s400/DSC00738.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sammy sleeping with his teddy.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8-LLExxgDBsfU7AeXng_7yL_jUFw8Zthw7NzRRrM_zc0ASkQF54dJFNqy3lepmhYLic3w475Hr4-rflmzKBqhIeD2NI1GsiaiGTI7z75frJpbGXYMfcxtJq_PR1CmHXyHG9QBoSdkRPtB/s1600/DSC00740.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: inline !important; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8-LLExxgDBsfU7AeXng_7yL_jUFw8Zthw7NzRRrM_zc0ASkQF54dJFNqy3lepmhYLic3w475Hr4-rflmzKBqhIeD2NI1GsiaiGTI7z75frJpbGXYMfcxtJq_PR1CmHXyHG9QBoSdkRPtB/s400/DSC00740.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why being a grandparent is about the best thing<br />
that can happen to you in life: our grandsons!</td></tr>
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****</div>
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We met Dani and Erik the next morning at a Starbucks in a Chicago suburb. We changed cars - they took the Toyota Highlander, we the Camry. Suitcases and other items were changed. The kids continued with them - it was hard to say goodbye because of the great few days we had spent together. The dogs were secured in the back seat of our car and we went our ways. They drove through Wisconsin and into Minnesota, spending the night in <a href="https://www.google.com/maps/preview#!q=Albert+Lea&data=!4m16!2m15!1m14!1s0x87f13692a78b34ff%3A0x1893faf939bed86c!3m8!1m3!1d90576!2d-93.3665824!3d43.650371!3m2!1i1600!2i753!4f13.1!4m2!3d43.6478145!4d-93.3686829!5e1" target="_blank">Albert Lea</a>. We followed on but behind them, stopping along the way to admire the sights. We crossed from Wisconsin to Minnesota over the mighty Mississippi just as a modern paddle wheeling tour boat was making its way through a lock as it plied its way north.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl_BaZTf6a7Bey2_XxYOmXEESTHhfdzCctvvNMDCv8EpOGtK0PgqVtA_jspgBckvgwXBnm9mrvljQC7za4fHjvJ_VhEPKnOpxWc9y06d11pIIQTAh4PYWYE4DB8vkKmSsv55WJLT1M9RhM/s1600/DSC00750.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl_BaZTf6a7Bey2_XxYOmXEESTHhfdzCctvvNMDCv8EpOGtK0PgqVtA_jspgBckvgwXBnm9mrvljQC7za4fHjvJ_VhEPKnOpxWc9y06d11pIIQTAh4PYWYE4DB8vkKmSsv55WJLT1M9RhM/s400/DSC00750.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stacey, Annie, Brookie and Biggie at the Wisconsin / Minnesota border.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge7k-uTR43thTVUGbQHsqZnuOXCkhcHlqCQ4ecXFm65St-JLzuvZtzmf6z4sV43K6vvEGv4GcG0TPQCv8FQinbW9tHMQ3a_n8jrkWG8sjqkU1BUhW7WjbOjDuqwZRbm_kX9Z5AGE2xKVV8/s1600/DSC00751.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge7k-uTR43thTVUGbQHsqZnuOXCkhcHlqCQ4ecXFm65St-JLzuvZtzmf6z4sV43K6vvEGv4GcG0TPQCv8FQinbW9tHMQ3a_n8jrkWG8sjqkU1BUhW7WjbOjDuqwZRbm_kX9Z5AGE2xKVV8/s400/DSC00751.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paddle wheeler approaching a lock on the Mississippi River, heading north toward Minneapolis</td></tr>
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We had a more difficult time than Dani and family finding lodging. We had the dogs and most motels don't accept them. A few chains do, though many add exorbitant fees, up to $100 extra, <u>per pet</u>, non-refundable! But a very few, La Quinta and Americinn, are truly pet-friendly and don't charge any fees or if they do, mnimal amounts. So we had to hunt for those and sometimes get well off the interstate to find one. So we ended up in Kasson, Minnesota, about 20 miles west of Rochester, the home of the Mayo Clinic. The latter town, a big, upscale burg (because of the clinic no doubt) allowed us to shop for dinner at a Trader Joe's and we ate salads and sushi in our hotel room that night - no more salt licks for us!</div>
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Dani discovered that Ethan's DS (a video game) charger had been left in our car. So we agreed to meet the next day in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. That, by the way is the largest city in the state with a population of 105,000.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYL7V7d38UtdKV1zBmSrUjlAYKO86c05lKAjDhItE7YTsPaCrMVISCArb82aE8Cp0bXi86S3W6eXknWqoEPrAFr-rNhZpC4vm8wDNtqGu1xVBPusLors1jbqp-QFBAi2tR_tYxkt8Fe5ea/s1600/DSC00820.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYL7V7d38UtdKV1zBmSrUjlAYKO86c05lKAjDhItE7YTsPaCrMVISCArb82aE8Cp0bXi86S3W6eXknWqoEPrAFr-rNhZpC4vm8wDNtqGu1xVBPusLors1jbqp-QFBAi2tR_tYxkt8Fe5ea/s400/DSC00820.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The falls at Sioux Falls, SD. The Big Sioux river,<br />
diverted by the ice age carved a new path and<br />
cut through the red rock of the area.</td></tr>
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South Dakota is a very <i>large </i>state with a very <i>small </i>population. It's beautiful beyond words. We had driven across Minnesota, land of 15,000 lakes, and were impressed by the vast farms that surrounded us on both sides of the road, stretching away to the horizon. As in Minnesota, the fields contained infinite amounts of corn or alternately, soybeans, but it was the corn that amazed us because we now saw, in person, just how dominant this crop has become. Corn production is subsidized by you and me (the taxpayers) to the tune of hundreds of billions of dollars over five years that goes into the pockets of huge agri-businesses. This makes corn prices artificially so low that corn sweetener - high fructose corn syrup - has replaced sugar as the sweetener of choice in many American food products. And that's bad for our health.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisQxDGMbVFc-OkdxaJP26vznmqojpRlHJdpnxceCf6tGV-K4v7wqPEDvLKaAAZw-YCfruuHLUWxMS1xWd7qLr3kHjK0D-hYrspj4GT2cyJ3l-cEi6qBavFqJz-HgU2_zEhwOjk_KJR2DOY/s1600/DSC00852.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisQxDGMbVFc-OkdxaJP26vznmqojpRlHJdpnxceCf6tGV-K4v7wqPEDvLKaAAZw-YCfruuHLUWxMS1xWd7qLr3kHjK0D-hYrspj4GT2cyJ3l-cEi6qBavFqJz-HgU2_zEhwOjk_KJR2DOY/s400/DSC00852.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mitchell, South Dakota's Corn Palace - redecorated each year with<br />
a different motif and made from thousands and thousands<br />
of corn cobs, husks, fibers. Crazy and corny!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUnFrE_dIBn0ayQpEWjvi26uSfibWsxmlC4pleUFxzV81d0rROSojsOEeQilgpeJqQVWdSnr8uDMYcOaJrK_-NK2BsJbf0TyLNDSgttfLAx1a0cKSKDm7X53idT28iM8GnSFPdjuvKIM2e/s1600/DSC00774.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUnFrE_dIBn0ayQpEWjvi26uSfibWsxmlC4pleUFxzV81d0rROSojsOEeQilgpeJqQVWdSnr8uDMYcOaJrK_-NK2BsJbf0TyLNDSgttfLAx1a0cKSKDm7X53idT28iM8GnSFPdjuvKIM2e/s400/DSC00774.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Corn is king in Minnesota and South Dakota<br />
Endless miles of cornfields stretch out to the horizon <br />
and hundreds of these corn storage and processing plants.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcytc_6hx0Wxw-q9wVNL2FHWpyvoZWOVt1hM6y9_mwGMYbGqsbFwpJcG4Zzo2ZKvuNDUqvQlVBqi1glzpwcPeS1ffJ_9vFRmeXDeEJZqsPJf6ZtWYwC6Tpy1As_4mfHLPdG8fgGMThCQC4/s1600/DSC00798.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcytc_6hx0Wxw-q9wVNL2FHWpyvoZWOVt1hM6y9_mwGMYbGqsbFwpJcG4Zzo2ZKvuNDUqvQlVBqi1glzpwcPeS1ffJ_9vFRmeXDeEJZqsPJf6ZtWYwC6Tpy1As_4mfHLPdG8fgGMThCQC4/s400/DSC00798.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A vast wind farm in Minnesota with hundreds of turbines <br />
stretching as far as the eye could see.</td></tr>
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When we crossed the Missouri River somewhere around the middle of South Dakota, the topography changed quickly. Now there were more rolling hills and more cattle. Instead of corn we saw vast fields of sunflowers - golden fields that stretched out to the horizon. South Dakota, to our surprise, is the second largest producer of that plant.<br />
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But more of that part of South Dakota, its awesome Badlands and then Wyoming in my next post. Right now: sleep.<br />
Zzzzzzzzzzz - Matt</div>
Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2435319426951063592.post-68478663541433334572013-08-27T19:25:00.002-07:002013-08-27T19:42:32.276-07:00It's Monday - A Day Of Rest<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The four of us: Stacey and I and the two grandsons, Sammy and Ethan, are at Duba's lake house in southeastern Ohio (about an hour and a half west of Pittsburgh, Duba's hometown). Dani and Erik, meanwhile, are exploring the city of Chicago. That's the plan and so far, so good.</div>
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Duba and Buddy have a lovely house on a conservation lake. The latter refers to a non-profit preservation entity that owns and manages the lake and its surrounding properties with an eye to keeping it environmentally sound and maintaining its natural beauty. That means there's a strict limit to the size of motors on boats that are permitted and restrictions on oversized construction, buildings, etc.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ethan and his Aunt Duba. We're out for a boat ride.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5_yyytYB63OHXqbimm8qApCbjOMklmMbsRjdcQUXiaX4Uop69Ap4StvH8aXa5tgbX99DNKVIQH6vW-NTCFU_StQYac8mweeevW_z0yH8BnQPMDjXnCIu9tOuZd4_ge3x2IE9wJ7dHY1KQ/s1600/DSC00597.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5_yyytYB63OHXqbimm8qApCbjOMklmMbsRjdcQUXiaX4Uop69Ap4StvH8aXa5tgbX99DNKVIQH6vW-NTCFU_StQYac8mweeevW_z0yH8BnQPMDjXnCIu9tOuZd4_ge3x2IE9wJ7dHY1KQ/s320/DSC00597.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"This is how you drive the boat Ethan."</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sammy got a lesson also.</td></tr>
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We spent the day just replenishing our spirits from the long 10-hour drive on our first day out. We'd have another one of those long days on Wednesday as we head to the Chicago environs to hook up with Dani and Erik and return the kids to them (in exchange for their two dogs). It was a lovely summer day on the lake and we took advantage of it to loll around the place take a leisurely boat tour of Atwood Lake and enjoy a dinner at a lake restaurant on the opposite shore.<br />
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Buddy, Duba's husband, was not at the house when we arrived last night. He would arrive today. So we set out on Duba's pontoon boat (a so-called <i>party boat</i> because of its flat and wide construction and stable bearing in the water). It also afforded an opportunity for Ethan and Sam to help steer the boat, something that Duba had promised them. Wow! Did they love that! And did they love the lake as well.<br />
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When we finished our tour and returned to the house we found Buddy waiting for us. We had a hamburger lunch, some naps and relaxation. The high point of Ethan's visit was a few hours with his newly-discovered Uncle Buddy as he was taken down to the shoreline and given the fine points of casting a line. Ethan caught three fish! Sammy and I joined them, not for fishing but for a dip in the refreshing waters. Ethan ran back up to the house to get his bathing suit so he could jump in too.<br />
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Later in the evening we set off by boat once again - out for dinner at the Lighthouse Bistro - a place that we've always enjoyed. The food is quite good, the view of the lake magnificent and usually, weather permitting, the sunset never fails to thrill us as we head back home by boat.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhczDeZ4kPQ5uyYM4DC34Lly18ZJG2J1nCXqfVHf_GkJp3W-Mk_-GqibbgzlYToFt1P2zZLNrgO6aWyq1F0gU_8jMjLOT6zfA5-WR_KEa1vD0OPBCRhitPbGvqKHez3LX9bqPVKK2zJYTbI/s1600/DSC00631.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhczDeZ4kPQ5uyYM4DC34Lly18ZJG2J1nCXqfVHf_GkJp3W-Mk_-GqibbgzlYToFt1P2zZLNrgO6aWyq1F0gU_8jMjLOT6zfA5-WR_KEa1vD0OPBCRhitPbGvqKHez3LX9bqPVKK2zJYTbI/s320/DSC00631.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ethan enjoyed the fresh air aand the sun on his face<br />
as the boat sped along.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfCAAygPpRXjGqy61kafTTQSL-w6GzHuWm4j6XrJd34CW3IikN2Lol9onyPbhPWCPX0l9KWYaD79Bo3Yj8Obr9wDXwTBzX6A1EPtywahmta-MwiRChTHEGBaMgPYj4vYMBExbLhJYUbzII/s1600/DSC00632.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfCAAygPpRXjGqy61kafTTQSL-w6GzHuWm4j6XrJd34CW3IikN2Lol9onyPbhPWCPX0l9KWYaD79Bo3Yj8Obr9wDXwTBzX6A1EPtywahmta-MwiRChTHEGBaMgPYj4vYMBExbLhJYUbzII/s320/DSC00632.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stacey in late evening sun. Atwood Lake.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCo8ZE49HPrqDn4RK0XZd3CJFckipogARKebBExWMIwL2Nj-yAw5cpbDmoDi8GrJhkMieM1J0rI2vPv9NrRvHr2tephnHHg7xm_drXCkDKDbkQ9JzX06TRZ6XpadSfXk1b39erTrp4zgEK/s1600/DSC00644.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCo8ZE49HPrqDn4RK0XZd3CJFckipogARKebBExWMIwL2Nj-yAw5cpbDmoDi8GrJhkMieM1J0rI2vPv9NrRvHr2tephnHHg7xm_drXCkDKDbkQ9JzX06TRZ6XpadSfXk1b39erTrp4zgEK/s400/DSC00644.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sammy at the Lighthouse Bistro.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfLRYjcwbPzmft9hyphenhyphenNa_2Ta-_eSMseNIsXni7_NCS-8hJndf2bZJBHpbxCmjg_s18JX9j70kwwAFPzSKHjoIncgCWmdOFbnHD3-h3s1dtUUA-Yr9pUK6dPTJB65ehttbambCLxn9aKjhrO/s1600/DSC00656.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfLRYjcwbPzmft9hyphenhyphenNa_2Ta-_eSMseNIsXni7_NCS-8hJndf2bZJBHpbxCmjg_s18JX9j70kwwAFPzSKHjoIncgCWmdOFbnHD3-h3s1dtUUA-Yr9pUK6dPTJB65ehttbambCLxn9aKjhrO/s320/DSC00656.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Sammy and Uncle Buddy - coloring at dinner.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCu9w_tLCfuqmAdd67x67IMRuyz8azFXbOh3oq5QIiiHh4kzYY2tMQ0QeKnRWmAjTmjJFYJDVt2FKla2GxA3ZieiZMAJxsPSQdLWDV8dc-SFyayiVwzec4Lw2m5svVb3DB8nBLUW4Mn6UP/s1600/DSC00654.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCu9w_tLCfuqmAdd67x67IMRuyz8azFXbOh3oq5QIiiHh4kzYY2tMQ0QeKnRWmAjTmjJFYJDVt2FKla2GxA3ZieiZMAJxsPSQdLWDV8dc-SFyayiVwzec4Lw2m5svVb3DB8nBLUW4Mn6UP/s320/DSC00654.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Us - Lighthouse Bistro.</td></tr>
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It was a short and sweet visit - the kids had a great time. We loved visiting with Duba and Buddy. Tomorrow was to be another long ride, across Ohio and into Indiana just short of Chicago. And the forecast said rain which would make the trip even longer. More about that in my next post. But for that you'll have to wait ... sorry.<br />
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From the road. - Matt<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOpsVb3k7USG_N3FveOMuPqBuo5Osgj8j1GWLN_jfum8pVxzTKy1we0nHYPGbaoDepvniXR_CcE8az1ldw3s65GGArSOgi5kLohCr2cVVY9zaBaQb8VB0HSVp_uuSGZMC4CzboXl-gscIv/s1600/DSC00694.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOpsVb3k7USG_N3FveOMuPqBuo5Osgj8j1GWLN_jfum8pVxzTKy1we0nHYPGbaoDepvniXR_CcE8az1ldw3s65GGArSOgi5kLohCr2cVVY9zaBaQb8VB0HSVp_uuSGZMC4CzboXl-gscIv/s400/DSC00694.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What a way to end the perfect day!<br />
On the way home from dinner - Sammy in silhouette.</td></tr>
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<b><span style="background-color: yellow; color: #cc0000;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="background-color: yellow; color: #cc0000;">To see <u>all</u> of today's photos, click <a href="http://bicyclist.smugmug.com/Travel/Our-Trip-Across-Country-August/Day-2-Hanging-In-Ohio-On-A" target="_blank">HERE</a>.</span></b>Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2435319426951063592.post-21838353337399839562013-08-23T09:04:00.003-07:002013-10-17T09:06:10.534-07:00On The Road To Ohio (And My Sister)Aug. 25, 2013<br />
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Spent a good part of Saturday packing. We're not taking our car but driving one of the Lundberg's two autos -- that's part of the reason for our inclusion: they need to get their cars out to Poulsbo (pronounced <i>Pauls-bow</i>, I'm told).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUfZqCHfWMP3RF02WA1rh_YHO6nspovbI0IU3KXPwpemh2Z4eLwqa06obM3LNTx-d7xkrVl2hAnqWivChfwPglX7R8kuM-Cct8CdGPCkSug91yo3pSRyjCDdaM6slJzMkevLTlNuDugi4f/s1600/DSC00506.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUfZqCHfWMP3RF02WA1rh_YHO6nspovbI0IU3KXPwpemh2Z4eLwqa06obM3LNTx-d7xkrVl2hAnqWivChfwPglX7R8kuM-Cct8CdGPCkSug91yo3pSRyjCDdaM6slJzMkevLTlNuDugi4f/s320/DSC00506.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Ethan checks out the Toyota<br />which has been pack to the gills with stuff needed<br />at their new house in Washington state.</i></td></tr>
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We left New York early Sunday morning. Not as early as we expected though. Ethan had been up during the night with an upset stomach so we let him sleep a little later and left Brooklyn at 8:30 instead of our planned departure of seven. With two cars packed up with four adults, three dogs, two kids and lots of 'stuff', we headed west through the Holland Tunnel and toward the route we'd be following for a long while: Interstate 80. Our destination: my sister's lake house in Sherrodsville, Ohio - about 465 miles door-to-door. I wanted to stop on the way for the night, given the fact that we're travelling with two small kids, our 3-½ and 6-year old grandsons. But Stacey said that would throw our schedule off (and add to the cost) - we have to meet Dani and Erik outside of Chicago which they will have been exploring while we're at my sister's.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/preview#!data=!4m24!3m23!1m6!1s128+Underhill+Ave%2C+Brooklyn%2C+NY+11238!2s0x89c25ba6db489d33%3A0x3b1499276a782d6c!3m2!3d40.6766999!4d-73.966396!5e1!1m5!1s8725+Locust+St+SW%2C+Sherrodsville%2C+OH+44675!2s0x8836eea312ac2acd%3A0x9c5c921c7e52ee61!3m2!3d40.5301296!4d-81.2633116!2e0!3m8!1m3!1d1521196!2d-77.6148539!3d40.5797874!3m2!1i1600!2i753!4f13.1&fid=0" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"><img alt="" border="0" height="95" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiH8Ub3SZUGszrKr5JmLwkPcFTLpsL3aDlWz3TDRSqGjVKglV1BT01i1830wnjdRdiNsBTsuhWUYAGmt_wYDESWpAqHAzNQ3RNcFldfF-r3rS34pIc0_HZxee7AQEMb8-EwHM4Fg4eL0GQ/s400/temp.jpg" title="First Day - Brooklyn, NY to Sherrodsville, OH" width="400" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/preview#!data=!4m24!3m23!1m6!1s128+Underhill+Ave%2C+Brooklyn%2C+NY+11238!2s0x89c25ba6db489d33%3A0x3b1499276a782d6c!3m2!3d40.6766999!4d-73.966396!5e1!1m5!1s8725+Locust+St+SW%2C+Sherrodsville%2C+OH+44675!2s0x8836eea312ac2acd%3A0x9c5c921c7e52ee61!3m2!3d40.5301296!4d-81.2633116!2e0!3m8!1m3!1d1521196!2d-77.6148539!3d40.5797874!3m2!1i1600!2i753!4f13.1&fid=0" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Our first day's route from Brooklyn NY to Sherrodsvile, OH - 465 miles!</a></i></td></tr>
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So we drove on.And on and on. The kids were amazing: wonderful travelers both and both very easy. We stopped several times - for gas and snacks. But lunch we ate on the go. And we reached Duba's house at 6:30 pm. I was exhausted, having driven the lion's share. And I may have picked up a bit of Ethan's stomach upset as I felt "out of it" for the entire day.<br />
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I-80 is a spectacular drive. It cuts through vast areas of the Pennsylvania <i>Wilds</i> - state forests and mountains that are sparsely settled and offer wonderful vistas as you ride along. It also has much less traffic than our usual route on I-78 and 76 (Penna Turnpike). Google says it's about seven hours if you drive straight through without stopping. It took us ten! Why?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRTDLfHIUwQxjRyBNjRd2vl2YukkNTlFA8XX2XyTh00PapteTOnghkchb9OG09jLFCe2ODwk3x_HR8b1FEEUsZCSDdIqsPaB3BbQvuQXeIB3P-GCey88JOJHRZyQKcdX1YzAMkClI65AU0/s1600/DSC00521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRTDLfHIUwQxjRyBNjRd2vl2YukkNTlFA8XX2XyTh00PapteTOnghkchb9OG09jLFCe2ODwk3x_HR8b1FEEUsZCSDdIqsPaB3BbQvuQXeIB3P-GCey88JOJHRZyQKcdX1YzAMkClI65AU0/s400/DSC00521.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Through the windshield --</i><br />
<i>I-80 -- beautiful views as it cuts through the Pennsylvania Wilds.</i></td></tr>
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Truth be told, we did get a little lost at the end as my phone lost its connection and Google Maps faded into obscurity in the middle of nowhere Ohio. We switched to the car's built-in GPS and it guided us the last hour of the way to Duba's house, albeit through some very back road routes - an adventure that we all enjoyed. My sister prepared a wonderful pasta dinner which everyone devoured and then a story for each kid and bed -<br />
a great first day!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sammy enjoying a pasta dinner at Aunt Duba's.<br />
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Oh, and by the way, Ethan agreed to "write" his own blog and you can find it <b><a href="http://www.ejlund.blogspot.com/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">here</a></b>. He already (almost) knows the list of thirteen states that we'll be travelling through. If Dani and Erik prod him to keep at it and have him dictate for five minutes at night, reviewing the day's odyssey this will be a great keepsake for him, not to mention adding a little variety and focus to his trip. Sammy, at 3-½, probably won't even remember this trip except from photos he'll see sometime in the future.</div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">My parents, who took my brother, sister and me on many car trips as kids, inspired in me a life-long love of travel and exploration. Here's to the same inspiration for Ethan and Sam as they travel through life!</span></div>
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¡Hasta mañana amigos!<br />
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<i>Disclaimer: Ethan's blog is in his very own words and include his very own photos taken with his very own camera (except for the first picture of him). But, yes, an <u>adult's</u> typing and minimal editing.</i></div>
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Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2435319426951063592.post-23364905374074815072013-08-22T17:58:00.001-07:002013-08-27T18:28:29.935-07:00Seattle Or Bust --A Cross Country Car Trip<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Aug 22, 2013</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Excitement is building at our house as we prepare to depart on our historic cross-country trip from Brooklyn to Seattle. Dani and Erik and family (including their two dogs) are re-locating to <a href="https://www.google.com/maps?hl=en&ll=47.698672,-122.641754&spn=0.603541,1.674042&t=m&z=10" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Poulsbo, Washington</a> for the next two years. Stacey and I are accompanying them on this epic road trip, driving one of their cars (the one with the three dogs: two are theirs, the third is Biggie). This should be good! Hopefully it will be.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDZqEanXp-YsD3OA3ftHu85IT-yJ5qHOMQpJdM69fbKOJeMGTZpFrjoWnyCBychcuvKWnW3nH5jwzdws2oMSToiJRPSxy2Kshb-D9H6wQINt2KdkouwnnS0IwAnmdcknbPpDxWzTYa2D0V/s1600/temp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDZqEanXp-YsD3OA3ftHu85IT-yJ5qHOMQpJdM69fbKOJeMGTZpFrjoWnyCBychcuvKWnW3nH5jwzdws2oMSToiJRPSxy2Kshb-D9H6wQINt2KdkouwnnS0IwAnmdcknbPpDxWzTYa2D0V/s320/temp.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Poulsbo, WA -- about an hour and a half <br />(by road or ferry) west of Seattle.</i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The last time I drove across our country was 1965. My friend Lonnie and I drove someone's car across and ended up in Berkeley. That was a long time ago but we took the same northern route (for the most part) that we are planning this time. It'll be interesting to see how much the country has changed in almost 50 years. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This Sunday is Day One. We hope to get an early start. Dani and Erik will drive toward Chicago, a city that she's always wanted to explore. Stacey, Ethan, Sammy, Biggie (the dog) and I will head to my sister's lake house in Southeast Ohio for a couple of days of fun at her place. We'll meet up on Wednesday near Chicago where they'll take the kids and, lucky us, we'll take the other two dogs: Brooklyn and Annapolis.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I've suggested to Ethan that he write his own travel blog accompanied by photos that he takes, thinking that this would be a great<i> show and tell</i> at his new school where he's beginning second grade. So far he hasn't seen any value in that proposal. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4E9x5M-dm5khxDKHFZ32z7-NnHcQuOdD52F7qOaVKvVZQCKUHRVlMrRkw5rQnejnTOgG1yp9NsPCSRRY6wCkl9CxpP06oj71x7CObTHlP5OTG44eOT3jXd_HoXsYXqhCJUGWEqEGuhhCs/s1600/DSC00268.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4E9x5M-dm5khxDKHFZ32z7-NnHcQuOdD52F7qOaVKvVZQCKUHRVlMrRkw5rQnejnTOgG1yp9NsPCSRRY6wCkl9CxpP06oj71x7CObTHlP5OTG44eOT3jXd_HoXsYXqhCJUGWEqEGuhhCs/s320/DSC00268.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>My 6-½ year old grandson, Ethan.</i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So now dear reader - please stay tuned for the <i>Tales And Trials Of Our Great American Road Trip. </i>I promise you some interesting, perhaps, writing. And some great, immodestly said, photographs. Then again, you could always hit the delete key should you get bored. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">See you on the road. Until then, <a href="http://www.thefreedictionary.com/%C3%A0%20bient%C3%B4t" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">a bientot!</a> - Matthew </span>Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com0Brooklyn, NY40.673212395128573 -73.9589994724609640.625042395128574 -74.039680472460958 40.721382395128572 -73.878318472460961