Cross-Country Road Trip! Day 66-68, Mile 10796: The Badlands Aren't Bad.

Unfortunately, O's cold has gotten worse. It's a very bad cough combined with a lack of energy. She taken Covid tests twice--negative. All we can do is wait for her body to heal itself.

We have, however, decided to curtail the rest of the trip. We had planned to spend a couple days in Bozeman, Montana, seeing some very dear old friends, and then two days in Missoula visiting O's sister Jovita. 

But instead, we're going straight home from Billings, Montana, which is where we are now. It's about a 10-hour drive, but at least O will be healing in the comfort of her own home at the end of it. We're deeply disappointed, but it's the right thing to do.

So here's a brief description of how we got from Wausau, Wisconsin to Billings, Montana in just three days. 

Last time, you might remember, we were staying at a lovely historic B&B in Wausau. They sent us off the next morning with an incredible homemade breakfast featuring a light and flavorful benedict soufflé with asparagus and Canadian bacon. Delicious.

We headed north through the Wisconsin woods to Ashland on Lake Superior.

From there we turned west to Duluth, which was completely socked in by fog, obscuring any views of the lake or the city. Next, we crossed the Mississippi, as small here as the Boise River, and ended the day in Park Rapids, Minnesota, a small town filled with Memorial Day tourists.

The next day took us through Fargo into North Dakota, across the continental divide to Dickinson, ND.

Now Dickinson doesn't have much to recommend itself, though the North Dakota oil boom has made it one of the fastest-growing cities in the US, but it is only a thirty-minute drive from Theodore Roosevelt National Park, a place we very much wanted to visit.

The weather was drizzly, but the landscape was beautiful, especially with spring grasses covering the usually arid badlands. 

Our first view of the park was the aptly named Painted Canyon.

Other than the scenery, wildlife is the main draw to the park. 

This is one of several prairie dog metropolises. Unfortunately, the cute little critters do know enough to come in out of the rain, so we caught only a few glimpses of them scurrying from mound to mound.

We saw a few of the park's feral horses and heard them whinnying to each other, but they stayed well out of camera range.

No elk, either.

But we did see a bison!

No, make that four bison.

No, make that a whole herd thundering past the car!

And into the road in front of us. 

Where they slowed to a traffic-blocking saunter.

They were in no hurry to get wherever they were going, so they just walked down the road, pooping and peeing, stopping occasionally to see if we wanted to make something of it.

We were happy just to keep pace with them for a while, enjoying the presence of these massive creatures and their young calves.

The process of shedding their winter coats gives them a mangy, wild look.

So cool to see them wandering freely through this wonderful landscape.

And a wonderful landscape it is.

We also saw several white-tailed deer.

And a pronghorn antelope taking a rest.

The weather and O's cough weren't conducive to any major hiking, but I did manage a brief nature walk through Wind Canyon. 

Here the wind has etched the soft rock into fantastic shapes.

There are sweeping views of the Little Missouri River from the bluff at the end of the trail.

At the visitor's center you can see the cabin where Theodore Roosevelt lived while managing his two Dakota ranches when he was in his twenties. The man was a racist and an imperialist, but he loved this land, and I'm grateful for his efforts to preserve it.

Tomorrow is our last day on the road. It has been quite an experience, emotionally, mentally, and physically. We've made indelible memories, deepened ties with friends and family, and generally had a hell of a good time. 

I hope you've enjoyed following our adventures. Please send O plenty of healing energy.

To be continued.

P.

Cross-Country Road Trip! Day 64-65, Mile 9715: Giant Mosquitos and a Moment of Zen.

From Chicago, we raced north for the tip of the mitten that is Michigan---Mackinaw City!

We had reserved a lake view room at a little motel on the south side of town. Unfortunately, the day was was gray and windy with occasional drizzle.

We would have braved it, but the minute we stepped out of the car we were beset by clouds of large and aggressive mosquitos. We stayed in our room behind the screens while squadrons of bloodsuckers nearly the size of hummingbirds waited for us to emerge.

We made our escape the next morning when the cool air kept the mosquitos sluggish.

The Mackinaw Bridge that connects the tip of the mitten to the upper peninsula was still wreathed in fog.

We drove south and west along the shore of Lake Michigan. The country is mostly flat and heavily wooded with occasional glimpses of the huge, brooding lake. Another amazing landscape among the many we have encountered on this trip.

Our destination du jour was Wausau, Wisconsin, the town where my dad was born in 1910.

We were lucky enough to find a one-of-a-kind B&B. The Stewart Inn was built as a private residence in 1905 by a local timber baron. The house has remained untouched since then except for electrical and plumbing upgrades.

It is truly a beautiful old house.

The original fireplace.

We're a little sorry that we're only here for one night.

O was still feeling under the weather, so I walked around town on my own. There were several cool pieces of street art.

There's a lovely walk by the Wisconsin River.

Though my father was born here, his family moved to southern California when he was four, so he had no real memories of the place.

It's a beautiful little city of about 40,000, hardly bigger than the 17,000 that were here in 1910. The streets are green and lined with mature trees. The houses are old, but well-maintained. There's a cute historical downtown with thriving restaurants and shops, an art museum, and a municipal theater.

As I walked around I was struck by the calm, bucolic energy of the place. It's reminiscent of the energy I remember my dad had.

Wausau also apparently has a significant Hmong population. Wisconsin winters must have been a major readjustment.

Bob and Ray still run the Grill and Swill.

Later, I made my way to the aptly named Isle of Ferns Park. The small island in the middle of the Wisconsin River is part of Wausau's extensive park system.

Other than a few dirt trails, the island has been left mostly in its natural state.

Very peaceful.

And now, here's your moment of zen.

P.

Cross-Country Road Trip! Day 61-63, Mile 9244: Learning to Toddle.

 After a couple of days in Chicago, we can easily see that it is indeed a toddling' town.

Some here toddle fast. So fast that you almost don't notice the insolent twitch of the hip. Others toddle slow, more a dawdle than a toddle. 

Then there are those who put a waddle in their toddle, working those hips to the point of caricature.

And everything in between.

It's Chicago. And I love it.

This iconic view of the Wrigley (chewing gum) building and the Tribune Tower is now marred by the Chicago Trump Tower just to the left (purposely cut off). Trump Tower is the second highest building in Chicago (more about that later) and is labeled TRUMP in obnoxiously large letters , the sight of which I have spared your eyes.

The city fathers didn't try to hide their racism back in the day. Behold this pier of the Michigan Street bridge that celebrates the triumph of the white man defending his women against marauding savages bent on rape and slaughter.

For some reason, Chicago is a hotbed of high-end Mexican cuisine. Tzuco is the brainchild of Carlos Gaytán. He has earned a Michelin star for his innovative cooking. 

This is probably the best guacamole I've ever had. The well-seasoned avocado mash is delicious enough, but the big chunks of smoky, crispy pork belly put it over the top.

I'm always looking to try interesting new cocktails, so I was intrigued by this: Mexican corn whiskey, mole syrup, mole bitters, and chile ash. It didn't quite do it for me (too sweet, needed more bitters), but it certainly was interesting.

We love sitting at the chef's bar whenever it's available. It's like watching a floorshow while you eat.

Mussels with chorizo and grilled sourdough. So delicious.

And for dessert, sweet cornbread topped with honey toffee, caramel popcorn, and saffron ice cream drizzled with smoked, caramelized condensed milk.

To walk all that off, we strolled down Michigan Avenue to the river.

We passed the world-famous Billy Goat Tavern and Grill made famous by the SNL "Cheezeborger" skits. Alas, we were too stuffed to visit.

The evening was clear and breezy. We had to bundle up against the wind.

The next morning, we wandered through the city, finding this wonderful old home in the midst of the teeming high-rises.

We took a lake and river architectural cruise to gawk at Chicago's remarkable architecture.

The St. Regis Tower is the third tallest building in Chicago, just after Trump Tower. Its roof is actually higher than Trump, but Trump's added spire makes it taller. Oddly enough, the spire was added not by Trump, but at the insistence of Mayor Daley.

Still, the St. Regis is the tallest building in the world designed by a woman, Jeanne Gang. So there's that.

This view shows a better view of the "blow-through floors" that reduce the pressure of the Windy City's ever-present winds.

In the late 1800s, the sewage outflow from Chicago to Lake Michigan got so bad that, in 1900, city engineers actually reversed the flow of the Chicago River to carry the city's waste south to the Mississippi River watershed. In order for our boat to sail out onto Lake Michigan, we had to go through a lock that raised the boat about five feet from river level to lake level.

From the lake, the views of the skyline are stunning.

Back on the river, these circular residential towers offer shops and parking. Cars have plunged from the structures only twice, but neither time by accident. One was a stunt for Steve McQueen's last movie, The Hunter, and the other for an insurance commercial.

I love the precarious look of this seemingly-poorly supported tower.

The Willis Tower, formerly known as the Sears Tower, is still the tallest building in town and the tallest steel-frame building in the world. It's actually nine separate towers clustered for mutual support.

Chicago has 52 bridges, over thirty of them working drawbridges.

The Leo Burnett building houses the ad agency that invented the Jolly Green Giant, Snap, Crackle, and Pop, Tony the Tiger, and many other American pop culture icons.

The golden top of the Carbide and Carbon Building still stands out amid the crowded skyline.

Designed and built in 1929, local legend says that the top, which is covered in actual gold leaf, was meant to resemble the top of a Champagne bottle as a protest against Prohibition.

One of Chicago's culinary gifts to the world is the Chicago hot dog, and Portillo's has been dishing them out since Dick Portillo opened his first hot dog stand in 1963. Neon-green relish, spicy mustard, onions, tomatoes, and sport peppers make this a special treat. But for me, the grilled polish sausage with just mustard and caramelized onions is the perfect dog.

State Street, that great street, with a tribute to the great Muddy Waters, king of Chicago blues. When I first visited Chicago in 1976, I was warned not to wander too far down State Street. Now it's home to every high-end brand in the world.

The facade of the Tribune Tower is embedded with pieces of history, from a brick from the Alamo to one from the Great Wall.

For the Chicago celebration of our anniversary, we visited on of the city's old line steakhouses: Gene and Georgetti, a Chicago tradition since 1941, located, fittingly, under the L.

After a horseradish-intensive (in a good way) prawn cocktail, we had the world's best wedge salad. Big chunks of charred bacon!

45-day wet-aged prime NY strip grilled at 1400 degrees, broccolini perfectly sautéed with garlic, excellent onion rings, and one of our favorite cabs. Definitely an anniversary-worthy dinner.

Next on my list of Chicago must eats: deep dish pizza.

The caramelized cheesy crust and the fennel-rich sausage make it a hot, gooey flavor bomb.

On our last night, we'd planned to go out for Greek food, but O was feeling poorly. She tested herself for Covid--negative we were glad to see. But she decided to stay in with her pizza leftovers while I went out.

My first trip to Chicago for the 1976 Machine Tool show at McCormick Place included my first trip to a Greek restaurant--the Parthenon in Greektown. Every time I have returned to Chicago since then I have returned to the Parthenon for  their excellent food.

Unfortunately, they closed in 2016.

Fortunately, there was a Greek restaurant just a couple blocks from our hotel.

They were full, but I found a seat at the bar. I made friends with the bartender, and he set me up with a flight of Greek gins, a thing I didn't know existed.

They were all interesting, but the Stray Dog was excellent.

The Parthenon claimed to have invented saganaki--cheese flamed in high-proof ouzo. The claim is debatable, but I love the dish, so I was pleased to see it on the menu. No flame-driven theatrics, but delicious toasted cheese with lemon and, in a different twist, a touch of honey and topped with pickled fig.

When I was in college, my next door neighbor was an older Greek man who made his own wine. It was terrible, so to disguise the taste, he added pine resin and called it retsina, even though it was red. Having drunk more than enough of it, I acquired a taste for retsina, which I indulge whenever I can.

A beautifully cooked lamb burger with roasted papers and tzatziki was the perfect end to a lovely stay in the Windy City.

Then I toddled back to our hotel where O was still under the weather, but looking forward to a good sleep and better health tomorrow.

P.