Colorful Colorado

Before I reached Colorado, I had to drive through a few more hours of Kansas. When I thought it couldn't get any flatter, it got flatter, and flatter still. Endless plains on either side of me. I got very tired despite a full night of rest, so it may have been the straight boring highway and lack of landmarks that wore me out. I made a few rest stops here and there just to ease the pain.

When I crossed into Colorado I was anxious to see mountains. I forgot whether or not Denver was close to the state line. When I saw a pale blue object along the horizon, I thought I was looking at mountains. For about an hour, I drove toward this thing trying to decide if it was a big blue cloud or a faded mountain range. It turns out that was no mountain range, but just a coincidental cloud formation. Denver and the Rocky Mountains are not very close to the border. It was some time later that I finally saw the true Rockies.

From Cross Country

Denver's another great looking city that's cleaner than New York. Paul arranged for me to crash with some of his old friends, Molly and Irene, who now live in the suburbs of Denver. I got there much too early and they were still busy. Conveniently, beside their building is a bar with wifi, so I managed to entertain myself while I waited for them.

When she got out of her class, Irene met me there, we had a drink and she invited another friend along. We all went out for Japanese at Sushi Tazu. Really tasty sushi. Then we went to downtown Denver and hit the bars. It was Tuesday and Denver was virtually dead. Either way, I was tired. I had woken up extremely early, and it was getting late. As the group was just starting to have fun and Molly got out of work and joined us, I was falling asleep at our table. Not long after, they took me home and I went to sleep on their couch.

I awoke, again, bright and early. I heard Molly getting up a little later, she had to teach her kindergarten class. We left the apartment together and that concluded my time in Denver.

Denver sits just east of the Rocky Mountains. Drive west on I-70 for just a little while and you'll find yourself climbing up higher and higher. You'll be in a neighborhood where peoples homes sit on the tops and sides of big brown mountains with even bigger snow-capped mountains way off in the distance. It's like nothing I've seen before. The Honda Fit barely maintained its speed going up the hills. Then, going downhill is a frightening experience. You shift to a low gear and you try not to rely on your brakes as your car just begins to accelerate on its own. The confident local drivers just breeze past you and take the hill at full speed. I was too focused on driving to truly appreciate the view at that moment, but once the highway leveled out, I got to see the Rockies from within.

From Cross Country

From Cross Country

From Cross Country

From Cross Country

I saw four rams just wandering by the side of the highway and I noticed a dead coyota being pecked at by a couple of crows. There were a few cool mountain tunnels to drive through, too. It's such a beautiful ride with nice curving roads. I wish my car wasn't so packed so I could've had a little more fun on those turns.

Some Photos

From Cross Country

My car, filled to capacity.

From Cross Country

I want that.

From Cross Country

Kingsley Street Band of Indianapolis. They were awesome.

From Cross Country

Saint Louis, after dinner.

The Most Beautiful Place, so far...

I was nervous about Kansas. It's a big state, which most people will tell you, is full of nothing. From the east, it starts off a little hilly, but the further you go, the flatter it gets. Each new city and state I reach, the reality of this trip washes over me more and more. Kansas has been no exception. It looks like no other place I've been. It's a beige plain on either side of the highway until it hits the horizon of smeared gray-blue clouds. This is the most beautiful state I've seen so far. It's not about architecture or clean streets. It's about endless plains, grazing cattle with no farms or houses in sight, and wondering whether living in such an isolated place is better than being in a big city.

My first stop was at a gas station. I had a quarter tank left and didn't wanna risk going any further without filling up. It was a road perpendicular to the interstate. The road ran off beyond the horizon. The only thing at the intersection was the gas station and a small general store. Me, with my Honda Fit, New York plates. Pickup trucks that all say Kansas. Fat bearded burly middle-Americans with worn-out cowboy hats. I didn't hang around there too long.

My second stop was Abilene, the birthplace of Dwight D Eisenhower. The billboard on the highway said it was a mansion, but Eisenhower's home is tiny. I followed the signs to the Eisenhower Presidential Library and Museum. I can't stop thinking about my plates. I imagine that they are giant neon signs that say "this guy is lost". I didn't check out the Library or the Museum, I went straight for the "mansion". There's a side door that reads "exit", I walked around on a small path and found the entrance. The door said "open" and listed the hours, but I didn't seem open. I opened the screen door and then the main door. A bell chimed as I pushed it from the frame. When I stepped inside I saw nobody and fought the urge to say "hello?". Too many horror movies involve a young man from out of town stepping into a creepy 19th century home and asking "hello?". So I stood in the hallway for a moment and then heard some movement at the other end. A short old lady crept around the corner and immediately began reciting the history of Eisenhower and his home. "This is the birthplace of Dwight D. Eisenhower. To your right is the bedroom where he and his brothers slept..." Creepy! I could only just stand there and listen and look through the doorways of the rooms she discussed. She showed where each person slept, the piano where Dwight's younger brother played, a quilt their grandfather wove. It really was pretty neat. As we got around to the dining room, the woman made her first gesture, this whole tour, toward two pictures hung on the wall above a plastic case filled with donations. And so I realized the tour was over.

My third stop, the city of Hays. It's a lot busier than I expected. There's a museum of natural history here, but I'm gonna skip it and just use this day to relax before my drive to Colorado.

Kansas City, Missouri

I want to announce that before I reached my next stop, I had the honor of driving through the hometown of David Cook, American Idol's 2008 winner. Jealous?

Since I left St. Louis so early on a Sunday, I reached Kansas City before noon. Every corner I turned, I could count the number of people on one hand. I was really worried that Sunday would be so dead here, I would miss out on anything interesting. The center of the city is pretty small, but there's some really neat contemporary buildings to look at.

I wanted to stroll around, but first I wanted to find a hotel. After my experience with the Congress Airport Inn, I wanted to make sure I chose a nice place. I was willing to pay for the comfort and safety of a reputable hotel. Now it's Sunday, so the city should be empty and rates should be low. But it just so happens that all hotels were nearly full because of some convention going on. Marriott wanted $199, Crown Plaza, Hilton, and Holiday Inn were sold out. I roamed around a bit but couldn't find any other hotels.

I came across the Power and Light district, a plaza of restaurants, bars and shops with a giant outdoor television screen playing the Chiefs - Giants game. Gordon Biersch, a restaurant/bar in the plaza, was pretty lively so I went in and asked the bartender if they had wifi. Fortunately, she said yes. So I had a snack and a drink while researching hotels online and I found a cheap room in a Sheraton just fifteen minutes away, but right along the interstate. An hour later, I checked in. Beautiful room for just a little more than what I paid at the Congress Shit-Show Motel.

I wrote for a bit, but I was getting hungry. I didn't want to go back into the city just yet, so I asked a girl at the front desk for a food recommendation. She told me about Gates & Sons BBQ which is a competitor for best BBQ spot in KC. She said it's a 3 minute drive, which led me to ask how long it would take to walk. She said 5 minutes. I suppose in Manhattan a 3 minute drive could be a 5 minute walk. Either way, I didn't really think about how it didn't quite add up and I decided to walk. She gave me written directions and I was on my way. Through an eerie suburban neighborhood, I walked, along a state highway and across all four lanes, one and a half miles later, I was at Gates & Sons. Good food, would've driven there if I had to do it again because the food isn't worth the walk. Plus, I still had to walk the whole way back.

Kansas City, despite what I saw early in the day, is not dead on Sundays. The Power and Light district is actually open until 3am every day. It hosts a very energetic crowd that I think is from the nearby university. I cabbed it out there, had a few and chatted with a few people. Met a couple from New Jersey that was there to watch the Giants destroy the Chiefs. Nice town.

Saint Louis, Missouri

If you’re playing the radio as you enter Missouri from Illinois, you’ll know you’ve arrived when you find a station telling you to “do the stanky leg”. My first stop was the Congress Airport Inn, as recommended by a road-trip guide that I was given. $50 cash, 1 room, 1 night. Just wanted to check in, take a leak, and then I headed right back out to check out the city.

Now here is an attractive city. The central business district is small, but clean. But go a few blocks too many in any direction and you’ll see the depressed areas. Many store fronts are empty, boarded up, forgotten. But a few quiet streets boast new trendy shops. I had a few hours to kill before dinner with some dear friends, so I spent the time strolling around.

The first thing I did was go to see the Gateway Arch. If you haven’t seen it in person, allow me to ruin it for you by saying it is HUGE. I didn’t think it would be so big. It’s gigantic. Now, when you finally come out here to see it for yourself, you won’t be as surprised because now you know what to expect. On the other hand, I think it’s so big that even after telling you that, you’ll still be blown away at how large it is.

I did not, however, go inside the arch. I wanted to and I had plenty of time, so the long line didn’t bother me. But the security checkpoint deterred me, because since I’m travelling all alone, I am armed with a pocket knife at all times. I thought about hiding my knife somewhere in the park and then coming back for it later, but it’s a great knife, I didn’t want to risk losing it.

So I strolled about. From anywhere in the central district I could hear the cheers of the crowd at the Cardinals game. Also from anywhere in the central district, you can always see a part of the Gateway Arch. It was as if the thing was following me, watching me, like the Eye of Sauron. I walked with my back to the arch and my ears caught the sound of some drums echoing off the faces of the surrounding buildings. I couldn’t quite tell what type of music was playing, but I just headed in the direction. I walked faster and faster until my steps matched the beat of the drum and the nearer I got, the more clearer the music became. There was a small fair/market in the courtyard outside one of the skyscrapers. A few tents were set up selling handcrafts and photos. A small band played up on a stage. I found the source of the drums. The song: Billie Jean.

After being treated to dinner by some real good friends, it was time to go back to the motel to relax. Walking around and looking around a city all day will wear you out. When I first checked into the Congress Airport Inn, I knew that it was a skeevy place. But upon returning, I had to truly face my decision to stay here. The bathroom just didn’t feel right. I wouldn’t even take my shoes off in this place. I turned the TV on and sure enough it was already on the porno-all-day channel. The guy penetrating the girl on the couch looked like they met each other at my motel. My front door seemed a little too small for the doorframe. Soon, I didn’t want to sit on the bed or in the chair. How was I going to climb into this bed and sleep? I grabbed the yellow pages from the nightstand and quickly flipped to H and found another place to stay. I went to the front office and left my Domino’s Pizza key card in the slot of the bullet-proof glass. I told the little Indian lady that I didn’t want to stay here.

Twenty minutes down the road, I booked into the Quality Inn. I wanted to stay somewhere that had corporate standards. I knew a place like that would be reasonably clean because they had franchise regulations and executives to answer to. Sure enough, it was way cleaner than the scumhole I left behind.

I woke up before Sunrise and hit the road.

Indianapolis

The first thing I did when I got to Indianapolis was check out the War Memorial. It's got a beautiful obelisk and some great large classic architecture. I went inside the museum and snapped some pictures which I'll upload some other time. They have a huge selection of authentic war memorabilia. It's unfortunate that they put these old uniforms and clothing on the cheesiest of mannequins. It looked like a bad clothing store window. I was more interested in the displays that didn't have any mannequins. Especially the displayed WWII Japanese swords.

As mentioned earlier, I got the job at the hotel in San Diego. The human resources department there wants me to fill out their paperwork as soon as possible, even though they know that I'm on the road. So they asked for my itinerary so that they could have me stop at one of their managed hotels to do a drug test and sign some documents. That's kind of a pain in the butt, though I know that they need to finalize things as soon as possible. I told them I would be in Indianapolis on Friday and St. Louis on Saturday. When I reached Indianapolis I got a message from HR instructing me to stop into a local hotel and ask for the HR manager there. Naturally, the HR manager was not expecting me. She and I had a confused conversation as we tried to figure out what exactly it was that I was supposed see her about, but we eventually straightened everything out and she directed me to a local Occupational Health Center so that I could do a pre-employment drug screen. I hate peeing in cups. I also hate handing my cup of pee to another human being. But the drug screen didn't take too long.

From there, it was time to find a place to stay. The hotel where I met the lady from HR, was too pricey. The one across the street, barely cheaper. I wandered for a bit, but I was getting impatient. Driving around the center of Indianapolis can be tough if you don't know exactly where you plan to end up. Many of the streets are one-way and they aren't as clearly signed as Manhattan. I eventually parked in a municipal lot and shelled out the dough for a really nice hotel in competition with my current employers, because they offered me an even better rate. My room was gorgeous, clean, and was on the corner of Illinois and Ohio streets. Most of the city's center streets are named after states, but I thought it was funny I was at the corner of the two states surrounding my current state.

When it was time to eat, I checked out an Italian restaurant called Buca Di Beppo. It's an enormous eatery with nine dining rooms and there was still a 15 minute wait for parties of 3 or more. I was alone so they sat me at the bar right away. I asked the bartender to recommend a meal and a wine. Everything was delicious.

I walked back to the hotel and hopped into a cab. I told the Somalian driver to take me to the Jazz Cooker, 925 E Westfield Blvd. Based on a suggestion in a road trip book, I wanted to see some live music. It was quite a trek out of the city to find the spot, but when we pulled onto the street, we could hear the music right away. A band played outside on the patio. Two horns, keyboard, drums, bass guitar and a male and female vocalist. The Kingsley Street Band. These guys were on fire. They don't have a CD out yet, but kingsleystreetband.com is their myspace page. After the show was over, and after three tanqueray/tonics, it was time to get home. Cabs were plentiful in that area of the city so it was no trouble to get back to the hotel to immediately crash into my bed and sleep.

My Time in Ohio

The Bruce Lee Martial Arts Museum must have been some sort of hoax. I awoke in Columbus, OH, got a quick bite to eat and checked out of the motel. The trip over to Brice street in Reynoldsburg took about 20 minutes. The GPS lead the way and I was just along for the ride. It was raining and the interstate traffic was thick. My drive took me off the interstate, into the small town and I navigated just a few turns until I reached a small shopping plaza consisting of about five storefronts. I had reached my destination. What was supposed to be the Bruce Lee Martial Arts museum I had read about in some trip advisor, was actually some dude's "martial arts college", some small town dojo with a few martial arts posters nailed to its walls. A few of the posters were of Bruce Lee. The place was closed anyway. I was disappointed. Screw this town. I have a lot more driving to do. It was time to head over to Indianapolis.

For four hours, I drove westbound. I had left the rainy weather behind by the time I passed Dayton. When the sky cleared up I was able to appreciate the scenery. More farms, more fields, more barns and more silos. It wasn't so boring though. In fact, it's rather beautiful. I wouldn't describe it as desolate, but it is so incredibly wide open. Having left Queens where my next door neighbor was across five feet of hallway, I can only imagine what it's like to have a neighbor three to five miles away.