We Touched the Atlantic

I dabbled my toes and Evan swam for a while. Coming from Oregon, it's still a novelty to see people on the beach in attire that isn't made of neoprene. There sure wasn't a body image problem at this beach on Isle of Palms! People of all ages, shapes and sizes were cooling off. Although swimming in tepid water is hardly cooling off. But the breeze was pleasant and the fact that we were looking toward Europe was fun for us west coasters.


This morning I toddled around historic Charleston, making a well-earned blister on my little toe. All worth it for the pleasure of wandering down lanes that echo history. I started off with a carriage ride and our guide thoroughly loved her job and appreciated us tourists. After all, we're the reason Charleston has recovered some of its former glory. Most of the buildings in the downtown have been lovingly restored and are a treat to look at.

Did they forget that trees grow quite a bit in 300 years?

There weren't many old cobbled roads left. I'd never seen one up close. Bless the man who invented paving.

After the ride, I set off in the general area we'd toured, pretty sure I wouldn't get lost in the 90 square blocks of historic city.

Charleston Harbor, a small part of it. It's huge!

Meanwhile, Evan and Ryan were sweating out on the golf course. They came to get me after lunch and we headed out to the beach. I admit I was pleasantly surprised at how nice it was out there. I think I expected the heat to beat the breezes. Don't get me wrong - it was still stinkin' hot but bearably so.

The beach 'cottages' were pretty amazing. They're all really tall, to accommodate the tall ceilings, I guess. Which nobody needs any more because all the houses are air conditioned. But it looks impressive. They didn't appear overly hurricane-proof either, but (thankfully) what do I know about that?

Ramsey stayed home today. Ok, I admit it - I forgot him. But I promise I'll make it up on the next road trip, to...?

Charleston or Bust

We've made it to the end of the road! I'm tucked up in a hotel in historic downtown Charleston and Evan is with his friends, who live about 18 miles out of town. I wanted to be able to explore before it gets unbearably hot tomorrow, which will be for about 15 minutes between 7:30 and 7:45 am. Just as well I brought nifty cool-max clothing to wear.

Evan has done the bulk of the driving and I've knitted. I decided to knit a "something" with each state's colors. Upon discovering that only about four states actually have official colors, I went to a Crayola website where they've assigned a color to each state. My finished "something" depicts our journey in chronological color and size, though Montana (sky blue) looks disproportionally large because of the yarn I used. At the end of the Montana day, my backside thought it was pretty dang large too (the state, that is!) My very clever daughters-in-law will no doubt have excellent suggestions as to how I can display this project.


Our day yesterday, through Ohio, West Va. and halfway through Virginia wasn't one of our most stellar. Evan was tired from too much socializing so I drove most of the day. It rained, the only time on the trip of course, so hard I couldn't see the road at one stage. Must have stayed on it ok because we're here to tell the tale.

Tobacco fields in Ohio

Virginia farmland

I confess to being cranky, so by the time we got to our lovely stop in Wytheville, VA, we were barely speaking to each other. But, a good nights sleep worked its wonders and we're back on good footing today.

It took forever, but finally there was an overlook to take in the vistas of the Appalachian hills. They were every bit as spectacular as we expected. We were looking over the Bluestone River in West Va here.

Tunnel in West Virginia

I was amazed at how like New Zealand the part of Virginia is that we zoomed through. Green pastures, hills, and leafy trees. And cows too.

North Carolina was mostly trees-lining-the-highway pretty. I'm sure there was other land out there but we couldn't see it for the trees.

We crossed into South Carolina, ready for lunch and stopped at a busy exit. We were pulling in to the Burger King when I spied this across the road...


Wouldn't you stop there to join the locals for home- cooking? I had the best beef-vegie soup ever and a grilled cheese sandwich and Evan had a prime rib sandwich. These are the stops that make a journey's shining memories.

So now we're done, almost. There's a day of sightseeing tomorrow in this most historic of cities...

Cuyahoga Valley National Park

Ohio has a National Park! Who knew? And you don't have to pay to get in. It's about 15 miles from Chad and Jenna's house and we explored a section of it today, Brandywine Falls.




Actually, we explored a bit more than that due to Evan's navigation. All I'll say is that I'm glad he's doing the bulk of the driving on this trip and I'm calling out the directions.


The park, 33,000 acres between Akron and Cleveland, was formed as a National Recreation Area in 1974. Administered by the National Park System, it became a National Park in 2000. The park protects the Cuyahoga Valley, the namesake river and the Ohio & Erie Canal that flowed through it from 1827 - the 1860's when the railroad replaced the canal system. Today the towpath is a paved bike and hike trail.

The forests in this area are leafy hardwoods which stay cool, green and shady all summer. Today was much cooler than other days, a perfect temperature for exploring.




Chad is getting into photography, and today Evan was his flunky. Even though digital has sped up photo-taking, there's still an element of waiting for the perfect shot.




There is a town called Peninsula that's surrounded by the park. The homes there reflect a New England look due to its settlement by citizens from Connecticut in the late 1700's. On the charming house scale, this place is off the chart!


We finished the day by stopping by Chad and Jenna's favorite ice cream shop, called Handel's Homemade Ice Cream, since 1945. It is now our favorite ice cream shop too. I had a scoop of coconut cream pie and Evan licked his way through a cone of chocolate raspberry truffle.


So here's my perfect fantasy - sitting with my loved ones outside a historic barn, on soft grass under a leafy, green tree, having a picnic of sandwiches from Wheat Montana (our new favorite meaty sandwich place), then savoring the taste of Handel's ice cream.

In a Tangle

Here is a pictorial metaphor for life.












Sometimes it seems that no matter how we try to keep it all straight, tangles happen. No matter what methods are applied - the gently persuasive, let's-try-to sneak-around-this technique, or the give-it-a-yank-and-hope-for-the-best approach - things still get messy. Sometimes it's just best to cut ourselves loose and roll along with what we've got so far.

This has nothing to do with our road trip, except for the fact that my yarn for Ohio got into a terrible mess when I tried to wind it enroute. I'd forgotten to do that task while we were in the civilized confines of JR and Becky's where there would have been willing hands to hold it. Hint to all you knitters out there...it doesn't work to try to wind a ball of yarn by hanging the hank on the Garmin holder.

I missed much of the part of Indiana we were passing through while I was trying to get my mess straightened out. Evan tells me it was pretty scenic.

I think I've got enough yarn to represent Ohio. Thankfully it isn't a huge state.




In Ohio we saw the first small livestock since about Missoula. There was a herd of Boer goats lounging in a small pasture, and further on, a small flock of sheep. And a noticeable absence of corn, at last.









We're staying with Evan's friend from high school, Chad and his wife Jenna and their wee fellow, Zane. Jenna is about to start a OB/Gyn residency at a hospital in Akron.














I'll confess we didn't look for anything of historical consequence today. I think we might have been frustrated at any rate. We did find a Starbucks. If that is the most noteworthy part of the day, I'd say it was a bit uneventful.

Indiana or Bust

We're visiting Evan's good friends, JR and Becky in Brownsburg, Indiana.




It's a suburb of Indianapolis and what a lovely spot. The neighborhoods are green and leafy with abundant soft, green grass. The homes are brick (to withstand the tornadoes?) and even the new ones look somewhat established.


On our way here, we discovered a hidden gem in Andover, IL. We pulled off to get gas at this sweet country town of about 600. It is a historic site, home of the Jenny Lind chapel, which is the mother church of Swedish Lutheran community. Jenny Lind was a prominent Swedish opera singer who provided funding for the chapel (info garnered from Wikipedia). We went over to the park to play with the Green Giant frisbee. Evan was astonished by my ability to catch the thing, and I confess, so was I.


The hot, humid unseasonal weather saw us coming and scampered off to bother someone else. It's been a lovely two days. My favorite thing about this state? All those green lawns. Though I shudder to think of the gas it takes to keep them trim. Where are all the sheep?


JR took us hiking around a park yesterday, a cooler place to be under the canopy of the hardwoods. In the afternoon he and Evan had a round of golf, Becky had a wedding shower to attend and I lounged on the couch watching movies. What bliss.



Tomorrow we head to Akron, Ohio, to visit with another of Evan's friends. Evan's popularity and propensity for making lasting friends is sure coming in handy.

Did Mother Nature Forget Iowa?

What do you do when you get somewhere that doesn't have nature's grandeur to amaze you? You go to places like the Jolly Green Giant statue in Blue Earth, MN., of course!



We arrived at the same time as two young men from New York who were heading west to Yellowstone. We took their photo and they took ours. That's a pretty touristy experience right there.

I was tickled to see the Jolly Green Giant immortalized. Who among you can show your age and sing the jingle? Apparently, Green Giant vegetables are out there again so keep an eye out. Like he says, there are no bad vegetables, just misunderstood ones.


I had no idea so much corn was grown in southern Minnesota. I can't help but wonder, how much of it goes into the Green Giant's cans and how much gets made into the devil high-fructose corn syrup?

This part of the country is a barn lovers delight. There are wonderful examples everywhere, and since Evan drove all of today, I got to rubberneck to my heart's content. Sigh...I hope there are barns in heaven.

Our jaunt southeast across Iowa (taking I-35 for you mid-westerners) started with a visit to the most amazing rest area/visitors center I've ever seen. Of course, the fact that it was fashioned after an iconic red barn may have had something to do with my enthusiasm. Upstairs was a dizzying array of brochures and maps, and lovely ladies who looked like everyone's Grandma roaming around to answer questions. There was even a gift shop full of locally made crafts!



So, Iowa is kind to visitors, and the part where we were was devoid of pig farms and feedlots. Actually, it was devoid of almost all creatures with four legs and cloven hooves. I saw about 10 cows. But lots of corn...

By the time we were about two-thirds of the way across I was getting grumpy because there didn't seem to be any incentives to pull off the highway. No enticing natural wonders or historical markers, and the exits to the one town we picked out to visit were closed due to roadworks.

The day was saved when we spied a sign, at last, for a National Historic Site. It was West Branch, the town where President Herbert Hoover was born. He's the pres who ended up in Newburg, OR, after he was orphaned at age 11 and sent west, with ten cents sewn into his pocket, to live with an uncle. (We learned all this from the very helpful ranger who was counting visitors to the cottage where Hoover was born.)

Those helpful interpretive signs...

We gravitate to that which we know. Me at the hitching post...

Evan in the schoolhouse.

Walking around in the 90-degree heat was all worth it to discover that nature might have forgotten Iowa but history hasn't.



At the end of the day, it was over the mighty Mississippi River to IL and our blessedly air-conditioned cabin near the town of Rock Island. The sign said the population is over 40,000 but we wonder where they all are. We drove around for a while and ended up in a whole other town and never found Rock Island.

Definition of a Tourist, Part II

Today we traveled across the half of SD that is east of Belvidere, about a third of the way into Minnesota. Those of you who have gone this route before might think that there isn't a whole lot more to be said about that.

Unless you are a make-your-own-things-to-look-at kind of tourist. Which we decided to be today.

The views out the windows were very pleasing. We'd been told that South Dakota is boring with a whole lot of nothing between silos. What's wrong with that? It's eye candy to someone who likes the big wide open. The cattle looked healthy and the prairie was showing off lovely shades of green.

The speed limit is 75mph, which doesn't allow for great out-the-window photos but I'm not that great a photographer anyway. I just hope I don't get Alzheimer's, because there are an awful lot of missed photo ops stored in my head.

We saw a sign for the town of Vivian, my niece's name, (and my sister-in-law's too but she spells hers differently) and decided to pull off and take a photo or two. This town is so small the bank is open from 8-12. But, they have a sweet iron sign complete with flower baskets welcoming you to the one street. Of course, the moment we stopped to set up the photo, a rush hour ensued and four cars went past.

The next stop was in Chamberlain, SD, where I-90 crosses the Missouri River. That called for a photo, but first we had to stop at Al's Oasis, to get donuts. Then we found a little spot by the river and stopped to imagine the culture of the river in the days before there were sweet looking bridges across it.

The Missouri River

I confess, we didn't find a place to stop in Minnesota before we reached our KOA campground. It's in Jackson, a charming little town with baseball games happening on every field we drove past. The Des Moines River runs alongside, and there's a nice walking trail. Which was nearly devoid of walkers because they all must have been at the baseball games.

In Jackson, MN

I like thinking about that contrast - we're so far away from home and they're basking in summer in a small town.