6/24: The West

South Dakota to Yellowstone:  I got up at 5 (yesterday’s 6am and Sunday’s 7).  Watched the sunrise kind of unintentionally.  Hour-long shower in beautiful bathroom.  Got out and Tim was just waking up or just getting out of the tent.  Lazy.  He broke down the tent and I cooked breakfast.  Very efficient.  The whole maneuver probably took an hour tops.  Tim took a shower while I packed the car.  I took first driving shift across Black Hills to, eventually, Mt. Rushmore.  We got there and realized there was a charge to see Mt. Rushmore – or a “parking fee” which effectively meant the same.  We decided to cheat and take pictures from a couple miles away.  Same experience.  Some would call us cynical or cheap.  We call ourselves patriots.  Took off on 14W to Wyoming.  Incredible delays because of construction.  Soul-crushing stuff.  We finally passed into Wyoming, which I found to be even more beautiful than SD.  Tim pointed out that all of Wyoming seemed to be in a valley even though that wouldn’t seem physically possible.  Played a lot of the “distance game,” guessing how far we were from this or that landmark in the distance.  More often than not our guesses came within a half mile and we were very impressed with ourselves.  Towns in Wyoming were depressing.  Lots looked like junkyards.  Oil towns?  Stopped in Gillette around noon and got food supplies at Kroger and some lunch (chicken in surfeit for me, a bag of spinach, yes, seriously, for Tim).  We saw a few flags at half mast but never did find out why.  I offered that in the world of mass media one would be callous to ever hang a flag at anything BUT half mast.  Tim wasn’t impressed and maybe justifiably.  Tim took second shift driving out of Gillette and immediately hit upon Bighorn National Forest.  Up a mountain, down the other side, all the while (qualifier: we did some Fresh Air and some cowboy music beforehand) listening to a Tom Ashbrook program on maternity leave.  Somewhat a one-sided conversation but that seems to have been inevitable. Stuck behind a bus on the way down from BNF.  Gave me plenty of time to look around and get nervous about the crevasse next to us.  Emerged uninjured and got stuck in a crazy-looking thunderstorm that stretched away across both sides of 14 for miles and miles and onto the scrubby plains beyond.  Lots of lightning to be seen.  Just like in Iowa, though I’d say more dramatically, the rain itself proved impotent and our anxieties were for nothing.  Tim’s right to suggest that you want to reckon with SOME kind of life-or-death, high-stakes weather when the build up is so enormous.  Still the sensible side of me sides with my mother’s mother: Nature is the enemy.  It wants to kill us.  Why tempt it or wish it upon ourselves?  After Cody every turn of the road was a better view.  A crescendo of views.  Valleys, rivers, promontories, snow on the tops of mountains, recently fallen boulders and rocks on the road, orange clay all around, precarious rock formations centuries old.  Also notable: the river rushed with a vitally unfamiliar to us.  Tim points out that the Mississippi and Michigan were comparably “static” and I agree.  We were spoiled by the prettiness.  Hard to take in all at once.  Saw some houses and ranches out there and reflected upon the gangsterness of living effectively in Yellowstone, waking up and walking outside and surveying your land which would be not only some of the most beautiful in America but some of the most beautiful in the WORLD.  Later: $25 to enter Yellowstone; another 30 per night to camp; ten for wood and kindling; four showers granted but any additional would cost more.  "Buy more showers."  Are we not men?  Driving to campground ruminated on federal penalty for killing bison at Yellowstone.  Mutated into Bohemian Rhapsody parody about killing bison in Yellowstone and being sentenced to prison: "Nothing really matters, / Anyone can see, / Nothing really matters / Except killing that bison last weeeeeek. / Never kill a bi-sooooooon.”  General unimaginable beauty by Lake Butte for the whole time we were creating this musical monstrosity.  Forgetting so easily that we were on God’s own half-acre.  Rainstorm as soon as we found the site.  Set the tent up in record time with some urgency behind us.  Turned out fine, as usual.

Learned that Tommy would not be joining us due to a work snafu.  Big blow.  We decided we needed to re-plan the rest of our route but would save that ordeal for later.

6/23: Your Love Is My (Wall) Drug

Sioux City to South Dakota:  Woke up around 6am (beat the alarm) and took 29N to South Dakota.  Crossing the border we saw a billboard with a picture of a gray wolf wrapped in an American flag under which was written: “Eat steak, kill animals, keep your guns. The American Way.”  Midwestern billboards are consistently this colorful and charming.  We then visited the World’s Only Corn Palace in Mitchell.  How to describe it but to say that it was a large building sided with corn husks?  It had spires too, and those also seemed to be made of corn.  To be honest it looked more like a Corn Castle or a Corn Fortress than a Corn Palace per se.  Lots of corn-themed tchochkes inside, which we laughed at and picked up but didn't buy.  We ate lunch on the porch of a Corn Palace-adjacent restaurant and were the youngest people there by at least thirty years.  Later in the day we crossed the wi-ide Missouri, which was bright blue. Tim agreed that it was “impressive.”  Beautiful plains along 90W.  Yellow flowers everywhere and cows grazing.  We had a Ke$ha sing-along for about fifteen songs straight, though there were 30 on the playlist.  We passed through the Badlands ($15 admission fee, Big Government strikes again!).  The views were...staggering.  We saw a billy goat by the Ancient Hunter Overlook (“We have reason to believe that ancient hunters once looked…right over here!”).  We passed through Wall Drug Store later on but were too tired to explore much. Ate dinner at a Gastro-Pub called “Murphy’s” which was comfy and decent of food.  I had chicken while Tim had a burger (POINT: ME!).  Drove to our campsite in the mountains.  It was very, very nice.  In the lounge (it had a lounge) we met up with a senior citizen who was paid to act as the camp's caretaker.  He gave us lots of tips as to what to do in Vegas.  “Go to a small casino called Ellis Island and ask, ‘What deals do you have for me today?’  They won’t tell you unless you ask.”  (A metaphor for the greater American experience, perhaps?)  We will probably not follow this advice but appreciated it all the same.  At night we could see our breath and we made a fire.  It got down to a chilly 51 degrees.  Both slept very well.  (Tim DIDN'T SNORE!!!!!)

6/22: Further Adventures

Indiana and Iowa: At 7:30am we drove to Highland Park and ate breakfast with Laura "Danger Nose" Christianson (Williams ’11).  The diner was spacious and apparently famous.  Some combination platters were listed as “Obama’s Favorites,” and Tim got one as if to demonstrate his lack of independent thinking.  (I, by contrast, got the “Glenn Beck Special,” which just FELT like it had more integrity, you know?)  The wait staff was curt but efficient.  My order of three eggs and corn beef hash was met with a resigned head shake.  There was no corn beef hash to be found here, nor would there ever be.  Driving out of Chicago we saw mist on the buildings.  Eventually got on US Route 20, which was very scenic and very “Midwest.”  Drove on it for approximately 700 hours.  At some point the cruise control went on strike due to harsh working conditions.  Hillier than expected but still satisfying corn country.  Shiny metal mills and silos.  Stopped on a whim at Ulysses S. Grant’s house, which we would have seen more of had there not been a suggested donation.  Galena, IL.  “Galena” means “sulfide of lead” in Latin, which is much more forgiving than “sulfide of lead.”  Mrs. Grant was incidentally very ugly and there were only pictures and sculptures of her all around.  Crossed the mighty Mississippi, which Tim immediately called “unimpressive.”  He recanted before we’d crossed to the other bank.  Monstrous looking rainstorm in Iowa turned out not to be that bad.  600 hours later we checked into our campsite in Sioux City and were "greeted" by a park ranger (?) who shook our hands but didn't give us his name and was hugely obese and chain smoked cigarettes.  "Only YOU can prevent (or start) forest fires!"  We called him "Ranger Rick" but not to his face and we never saw him again.  Cooked a delicious repast and were confronted by two baby raccoons.  They would have been cute if they hadn't been so terrifying.  We went to bed reasonably early and Tim DIDN'T SNORE!  We got showers in the morning (SHOWERS!!!) and set off.

6/21: A Retrospective

Chicago: Tim and I met up with Eric "Phipps" Phillips (Springstreeter '09) who took us on a tour around town.  Beautiful city.  Tim and I sang its praises while derisively comparing it to NYC.  Very spacious, clean.  The architecture gave it a lot of character.  Admired a public fountain/wading pool/art installation in Grant Park where we saw a be-underweared kid marching and triumphantly pumping his fists while screaming, “Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!”  Walked the perimeter of the lake before getting caught in a deluge.  Some tension at the suggestion that the storm had been avoidable.  Found cover in a parking complex where Phipps looked up and recited Lear’s “blow, winds” speech.  The storm did indeed blow and continued to do so for many minutes and finally we decided to make a run for the nearest bar.  We were drenched by the time we got there, but for the most part our cheeks remained un-cracked.  The rain stopped the moment we walked in.  Pub called “Pattie’s,” whose few patrons looked Boston expats.  Extras from THE DEPARTED.  Took a cab elsewhere.  Driver chatted with us about the Forbes list of billionaires.  Turns out Oprah has a net worth of $2.7 billion, which translates to a near-endless supply of Pattie’s whiskey.  Got fancy cocktails at a fancy cocktail place.  The hostess ID’d us and then asked cheerfully, “Won’t you join us at the bar?”  Why, yes.  Yes we would.   Actually there were two hostesses, who were physically identical.  Flagrant job creation.  Drank fancy cocktails surrounded by Chicago’s Future Leaders of America, who were very well dressed and polite and dry. Somehow they had managed to avoid the totally unavoidable rain.  Afterwards walked to dinner.  Thai place called “Butterfly Sushi.”  Met up with the inimitable Anna Silberstein (whom Tim does a GREAT impression of) and the incomparable Maddie Jacobs (who was like a vital fire in both character and fragrance).  Afterwards I (Greg) decided to go to bed.  Phipps’ cat kept cuddling up to me.  No, cat, go away.  Eventually I’d relent and pat its head at which point it would run away.  Slept really well.  Woke up at six because of the hour's time difference (Chicago is an hour off Eastern time, tres exotique!) and so had time to write this, dear readers.

One Day More

Hi, Friends --

It seems that I've already fallen behind my posting schedule. Whoops! I was supposed, dear reader, to drive from Philadelphia to Chautauqua, NY to drop my brother off at camp. I had planned to update you all as to the events of the drive (including, but not limited to: how much Andrew "Snorlax" Lengel slept, at what pitches and amplitudes his snores interrupted my carefully cultivated driving playlists, and just how helpful he was as navigator) after my arrival, but the best-laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft agley, as they say, and what was initially planned as a relatively straightforward drive turned into a bit of a haul.

Why did we log an extra six hours of driving, bringing the daily total to an even 13 (More than my self-hatred, that is)? All for want of a bocce set. "But Tim," I hear you exclaim, "A bocce set?" Yes, dear reader. I drove six hours out of my way for a bocce set.

Those of you who are acquainted with me, Greg, and Tommy know precisely how athletic the three of us are; very. Paragons of physical virtue, we; I once saw Tommy outrun a gazelle at USC, and Greg once beat Jack Lalanne in an arm-wrestling match.

In fact, We Three Adonises are so equal in stature and body fat percentage that it can be difficult for us to solve disputes. Arm wrestling matches are useless; sprints a waste of time. What good to compete on purely physical grounds when we will always tie? Nay, the only means of competition left to us is that most noble of games -- where strategy is as important as skill, guile as prized as gold. The Sport of Kings and Queens. Yes; bocce is our game.

For years, we have played with a particularly fine bocce set donated to the cause by Mama and Papa Lengel; we played it on college roadtrips, we played it every Sunday at school, at reunions, and... You get the point: bocce, good; bocce set, necessary. How wonderful, we thought, how fitting a plan to play bocce at the various stops on our roadtrip? All agreed the plan a just one. There was just one hitch.

I had left the bocce set in Williamstown, Massachusetts by accident. Yes, one bracingly cold April morning, after helping the Springstreeters celebrate a wonderful concert, I had arisen and driven all the way home to Richmond, VA -- a distance, mind you, of about 500 miles (and I would have walked it!) -- before realizing that my prize set was sitting in the yard of the house where I stayed. A terrible thing, to leave behind an old friend like that! Thankfully, friend of the blog, professional meme-generator, and all-around-good-gal Sarah "Sarah Dewey" Dewey had agreed to look after the set. It was for this reason that, fresh of face and of lumbar region, I made the executive decision to head to Chautauqua by way of Williamstown.

My plan was something of a surprise to Andrew, who crawled into his passenger seat yesterday morning and promptly fell asleep after giving me instructions to wake him when we reached Chautauqua. Instead of awaking to the sight of a beautiful blue lake, he instead awoke to an even more beautiful mountain view; lucky kid!

After getting a lovely Tunnel City lunch with Sarah and retrieving the bocce set, Andrew and I headed on our way to Chautauqua. The drive itself was rather exciting -- nothing like some YouTubed lectures on American history to get the blood moving, eh, Andrew? (I mention here that Andrew is that rare child who has an American History teacher for a father and a brother. Can you say "jackpot?!") and we reached our final destination (not, you know, our Final Destination) without incident. In sum, Andrew was delivered and the bocce set was retrieved. I'll call that a mission accomplished.

Tomorrow, dear readers, I head to Cleveland, OH to meet up with Greg "Craig" Kaskan. But first, time for sleep...

An Introduction

Hi, Folks!


Tim here. The official start to TNT's Great American Roadtrip is four days from now, but I'm heading out on a pre-Roadtrip roadtrip tomorrow morning. I'm planning (planning) on updating this blog from the road with pictures and some thoughts to document our travels. But Oh! I forget myself; here are some important details:

Who Are We?

We are: Tim "Sleepyhead" Lengel, Greg "Craig" Kaskan, and Tommy "The Lord Admiral" Nelson. We sang together in college from 2008-2011 and have been making fun of each other ever since. Why "TNT?" In the words of prominent World War II scholar John "Bluto" Blutarsky, "Why not?" Our noble steed? A Hyundai Elantra. Our plans? Loose. Our camping knowledge? Largely untested. Our bocce skills? Unmatched. 

Where Are We Going, And When Will We Be There?

Great questions! We're heading out on the Great American Roadtrip. After many, many emails back and forth, here's the itinerary:

6/21: Cleveland, OH to Chicago, IL

6/22: Chicago, IL to Sioux City, IA

6/23: Sioux City, IA to Mount Rushmore National Park

6/24: MRNP to Yellowstone National Park, WY

6/25: YNP

6/26: YNP to San Francisco, CA (go Niners!)

6/27: SF

6/28: SF

6/29: San Francisco to Las Vegas, NV -- Tommy joins the trip!

6/30: LV to Grand Canyon, AZ

7/1: GC to Pagosa Springs, CO

7/2: Pagosa Springs

7/2: Pagosa Springs to Santa Fe, NM

7/3: Santa Fe to Memphis, TN

7/4: Memphis to Nashville, TN for 4th of July festivities

7/5 Nashville, TN to Cleveland, OH

That's right, folks -- 18 of these United States, 9 nights of camping, 8 National Parks, 3 dudes, 1 car. If you'll be in any of those spots, let us know! Otherwise, uh, check in here for some hopefully-going-to-happen updates and absolutely-going-to-happen pictures of the three of us playing bocce in dozens of places around the country. After all, who doesn't love bocce? (Everybody loves bocce.)

And now, time to pack the car...