Vino.

After a nice, restful sleep, we headed out for some breakfast, and then it was on for some wine tasting. To my knowledge, neither Bill nor I have been wine tasting before, so we were both exctied and a bit nervous – it seems that wine snobs are a particularly rough bunch. The concierge at our inn gave us a map and some advice on which wineries to hit up, so we were on our way.

Stop one was at Korbel where we sampled some of California’s finest sparkling wine (apparently, the term Champagne is reserved for the sparkling wine that originates from that region in France). Next, we were off to Belvedere, where we ran into a large group who were on a Hummer limo tour of wineries, and a much less obnoxious trio of ladies, one of whom was in town (SF) for an American Psychological Association conference. We sampled and Bill bought some chardonnay – we also pretended to be a group with the nice ladies so we could all get a 15% discount. Our next stop was at Porter Creek, where our options were limited to red wine only. Not only were the wines great, but the rustic shack in which the tasting room was found was the least ostentatious place of the day. While the wine was on the pricier side, it was too good to pass up.

Hop Kiln was the next stop, on recommendation from the guy at Porter Creek. He said “tasty gourmet mustards” and Bill and I were there like moths to a flame. After sampling some nice wine and even better mustard (curry, raspberry jalapeno) we were off to Moshin, where we ran into the three nice ladies again. Moshin is known for their pinot noirs, and it did not disappoint. While the psych professor (from Rutgers, no less!) ordered by the case, I was more conservative and got one bottle. We said our goodbyes and went on up the big hill to Gary Farrell, which we had been warned was a bit snobby. It was, but since Bill and I had been actually drinking, and not really “tasting” all of our samples, we didn’t mind. They had crackers and some grapes to sample, as well as some nice wine and a gorgeous view of the Russion River Valley. This was our last wine stop, as Bill and I had appointments for some well-earned massages back at our inn.

Later that night, a little more limber than before, we went out for dinner and then into the hopping town of Guerneville for a few drinks. It’s a really nice town – definitely the more down-to-earth part of wine country. After another restful night of sleep, it was off to San Francisco, to get me moved into my new place. It was really hard to realize that our roadtrip adventure was over, and that now the next chapter of my life was to begin, in San Francisco.

Nev(erending)ada

When we decided to drive straight through to California, Bill and I knew we had a long drive ahead of us. Google Maps estimated the drive from Salt Lake City to Guerneville, California to be about 11.5 hours, and it took every bit of it even with the time change from MST to PST.

Nevada is really big, and is beautiful for stretches, but mainly it’s just really big. Not much else to say. We stopped in Reno for dinner at the Pneumatic Cafe, and then pressed on into California, marvelling once again at the gorgeous mountain scenery. Since we were both really tired, we drove on until we got into Sonoma County, and after some very curvy roads, we got to our destination, the West Sonoma Inn. Bleary-eyed and exhausted, we settled in for the night excited by the thoughts of the next day, when we could really relax and embrace being on vacation.

Hot Springs*

Waking up from a restful sleep, for once, Bill and I ate breakfast at the campground’s restaurant – Dutchie’s – and were treated to both a great meal (with free pancakes), and the nicest cook/waiter ever. After driving through winding mountain roads, the big pay-off came into view – the east entrance of Yellowstone. There had been some question as to whether this entrance would be open, and we would see why just after entering the park. Wildfires had been burning for days, and we saw huge plumes of smoke from deep within the mountain valleys. Luckily, right after we entered it started to downpour, so maybe the fire volunteers were aided by mother nature for once.

As we drove (40+ miles) into the park to get to Old Faithful and the geyser field, Bill had me come to a few abrupt stops to get some pictures of wildlife (bison, coyote, mule deer, moose). It’s funny how the dozens of cars come to screeching halts, passengers hop out of the car and maintain their respectful distance while snapping away with the camera. Bill got pretty good at jumping out with his camera into the rain.

Eventually we made it on to Old Faithful, and we had about 45 minutes to kill until the next eruption. We walked around to some of the other hot springs and geysers, dodging tourists left and right. We stationed ourselves at the best photo spot, fought through the pungent sulphur steam from some of the hot pools, and snapped our share of cheesy photos. Check out the flickr page to see them. Soon, it was back into the car, and on our way to Utah.

Initially, our plans were to stay in Pocatello, Idaho, but we decided to push on to Salt Lake City, Utah and stay in a hotel instead of camping for the night. After choosing a random exit into the city, we came across the Hotel Monaco. One quick phone call later, we were checked in and ready to go out in a city again – the quiet of the plains and mountains were getting to us. Much to our surprise, Bill and I discovered that Salt Lake City is both gorgeous (surrounded by mountains and the Great Salt Lake) and fun. We saw not one pioneer-outfitted Mormon. It must also be noted that my obsession with Big Love is what prompted the stop in SLC. After a fun night, we slept in a bit and decided to push on all the way to California on Sunday, skipping over our planned stop in Reno/Lake Tahoe.

*and we don’t mean Gene. that’s a joke, folks. a pun, really.

South Dakota…er…Rocks!

After finally getting up early in the day (7:30am!), Bill and I headed out to the Badlands National Park, where we were highly impressed and awed by the moon-like rock formations. We hiked a bit, and even wandered off the trail to get some better angles on the magnificent scenery.

Later, it was on to Mt. Rushmore, where the throng of people, in addition to the high temperature, prompted us to hop out of the car, take some pictures, and then hop right back in. After a pleasant, winding drive through the mountains, we came to the Crazy Horse memorial, which is still under construction more than 50 years after it was started. Probably something having to do with it not being federally funded…

After our scenic forays, it was back into the car to drive as far as we could into Wyoming in order to visit Yellowstone tomorrow. As the elevation increased, we were treated to a beautiful sunset behind the burgeoning Big Horn mountains, and we finally arrived at our campsite tonight, tired but ready to reenergize for another long and exciting day tomorrow.

More photos have been posted over at

http://flickr.com/photos/gowestyoungman. Enjoy!

Photos!

Finally, photos can be found here:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/gowestyoungman/

Roughing It

After leaving the gleaming, gotham city of Chicago (no, really, it is Gotham in the new Batman movie, The Dark Knight, filming as I write this in downtown Chicago) we drove through traffic (thanks O’Hare) and non-traffic to Rocester, MN, getting there just as night fell. Being new to the whole KOA experience, we got the tent set up as quickly as possible, before heading out in Rochester in search of food. We settled on Outback (see title of entry is roughing it…get it?), and were back at the campsite before 11pm, ready to sleep and rejuvenate after a late previous night in Chicago.

For those unfamiliar, both Bill and I snore. I don’t mean delicately, and I don’t mean every once in a while. We both snore, loudly, and with disturbing frequency. So, our first night of camping included a steamy tent (we had the rain tarp up just in case, and it stifled any air flow we might have enjoyed), two too-warm sleeping bags of the mummy variety, and an on/off chorus of snoring that was sure to wake even the heaviest of sleepers. Once again, instead of getting an early start to the day, additional sleep was needed, with Bill in the car and me in the tent; we left Rochester (after having some great smoothies at Inta Juice) by noon. Imbued by our impending visit to the Badlands, Mt. Rushmore, and the Crazy Horse memorial, Bill and I drove along uninterrupted, at great speed (75mph speed limit in South Dakota) listening to David Sedaris’s Naked and Me Talk Pretty One Day on audiobook.

South Dakota is a pretty, if slightly monotonous drive. We jumped at the chance to check out the Corn Palace, a building whose exterior is decorated entirely in corn cobs and husks. Also, there is a high frequency of roadside billboards that are, shall we say, pro-life in nature, extolling messages such as “Fetuses Feel Pain.” They break up the drive, at least. Our campsite tonight is definitely more rustic than the one in Rochester; our site is nestled among rolling hills and fields adorned with cattle, with a small, scenic lake nearby. The KOA store/restaurant is serving buffalo burgers, so an authentic Plains meal is to be had.

Since I am a total WordPress neophyte, and I haven’t (yet) had time to sit down and fiddle with things, I will be creating a flickr site where photos of the trip can be viewed as they are added. I’ll have that link in the next post.

Chicago, Finally.

We rolled into Chicago Tuesday afternoon, after spending the night in Toledo. Which was not memorable, in any way; Chicago was quite memorable. We stayed with a friend of Bill’s on the southside of Chicago, almost on the Indiana border. From there we did the oft-PBS-broadcasted architecure tour through the Chicago waterways, which was spectacular, if a bit hot. Hands down, Chicago has the most impressive buildings I have seen, at least in this country. After a brief respite which invovled naps and a Flavor of Love marathon, we headed out to experience some Chi-Town nightlife. It didn’t disappoint.

After a late night and getting an oil change, we were back on the road, straight through to Rochester, Minnesota, where we had our first camping experience. More on that later.

Last Days in Jersey

I arrived in New Jersey on Tuesday, at about 11:30pm, a mere 7.5 hours after leaving Chapel Hill – a new record for me. I hit no traffic whatsoever, and drove a wee bit over the speed limit, I suppose. I listened to frequent NPR This American Life contributor David Rakoff’s Fraud on audiobook for about 4 hours of the drive. I’m not sure what it is, but I seem to go into a driving trance when I have an audiobook to listen to.

I had a good time this week – I got to see my oldest and dearest friends; catching up on copious wedding plans, eating way too much, and heatedly debating politics can never get old. Additionally, I made it into Brooklyn to see a few of my SILS friends. My fun city day included brunch with a ridiculous view of lower Manhattan, an African Festival in Prospect Park, cheap Yuenglings, great burgers, and a late night of dancing and carousing in Williamsburg. I’m so not 22 anymore, apparently, because Sunday was a lost cause of a day for me, aside from getting to see Beck, Becky, Ditto & Apollo. Because of total inertia, Bill and I did not leave on our adventure until Monday.

By the time the car was packed and re-packed (I had managed to not have any room for Bill and his travelling necessities), small errands had been run, and a caffeine fix met, it was 3pm and we were just on our way. After a brief dinner pitstop in Clarion, PA, we finally made it out of Pennsylvania and into Ohio. I’m writing this from our hotel room in Toledo, OH, the only planned hotel room of the trip aside from the one in Sonoma at the end of our excursion. Monday was such a rush that no photos were taken – there will be some photos Tuesday, I promise.

Leaving Carrboro

The time has come for me to leave Carrboro. It’s not the first time I’ve left this area–I did it once before in 2000 when I graduated from Carolina for undergrad. It was a lot easier to leave then–I was going “back home” to New Jersey, to be reunited with my childhood friends. College was over (which was mostly a good thing, as I was a relatively lazy and unmotivated undergrad), and nothing but possibilities lay in front of me, with a new career (publishing) and a long summer before starting work.

Things that summer took a sharp turn when my grandmother, my last remaining grandparent, passed away very suddenly (and dramatically, I might add) at her friend’s funeral. I was with her in her final conscious moments, which was a very tough thing to get over in the ensuing months. However, with a heavy heart, summer turned into fall, and work began as a peon in the publishing industry. Many of you have heard the stories from FoF, so no need to go into detail. Short story: 17 months later, I was no longer working there and was in North Carolina chillin’ at my parents’ house.

A few years later, after a brief stint working as an elementary school librarian in New Jersey, I returned to Chapel Hill to start grad school at SILS, on my way to becoming a functioning professional librarian. Grad school was a great time for me, both academically and socially. I made some truly great friends, but, as most of you know, I lost my mother to a long and protracted battle with cancer at the end of my first year. I don’t think words can describe what it’s like to lose a parent–and unfortunately, I had to re-learn what it felt like this past spring when my father passed away after his lengthy struggle with pulmonary fibrosis. Sorry for this entry to be such a downer, but the past three years of my life have been rich in many ways: good and bad, fun and terrible, enriching and exhausting. I don’t think I could strike out on my own and head to San Francisco for my new job without having gone through all of the positive and negative experiences of the past few years.

That said, I bid adieu to Chapel Hill once again. I will sorely miss many dear, close friends, in addition to my local watering hole, and the wonderful libraries (Stone Center, Duke, Ford) I worked at over the years. I’m certainly not leaving this area for good–Carrboro feels like home to me–but it may be a while before I make it back for a visit.

Look for upcoming posts over the next few weeks as I make my way across the country, stopping at several national parks and monuments along the way (there will be photos–I finally caved and bought a digital camera). I won’t be travelling alone–one of my oldest and dearest friends, Bill, will be accompanying me on my drive and various adventures. Did I mention we will be camping out? In the “wilderness?” It should be a very interesting trip.