So Long, Spring Break
Went on the Great American Road Trip for spring break this past week. It was pretty great. We left Minneapolis around 10:30 AM because we stayed up late boozing and packing. I forgot my real camera at a friend's place, so we had to rely on the little point-and-shoot digital camera I got last fall. The first day saw us through Iowa, Nebraska, and lastly into Colorado, where we slept in Denver.
The next day we got our asses back on the road at 9:30 AM and started heading down from Denver towards New Mexico - we had to get the Four Corners experience. Driving in the Rockies was the best thing. Traffic was really sparse and I was piloting a European luxury sports car. Can it get much better? It was mostly downhill curves with two lanes on either side of the road, so I was able to go between lanes and take the corners at about 80MPH. That ain't so bad. After Four Corners, the middle of goddamn nowhere, we headed out through Arizona into California. Finally, at 1:30 AM or so, we met some friends at Denny's in Long Beach. What a drive.
Spent a few days in Long Beach, but also quite a bit of time in Santa Monica getting the car repaired. The heat shield over the muffler had cracked loose and so needed to be removed. The car sounds a bit meaner now, but it doesn't bother me too much. We left for San Francisco on Thursday and killed more bugs on our windshield than I think I've ever seen in my life. The grasshoppers were ridiculous.
San Francisco was also pretty damn great. We dropped the car off to get the final repair, which we had called ahead to set up, and walked around the shops and malls in Union Square for a few hours. Once we had the car back we parked in Fisherman's Wharf and spent the rest of the day walking about the hills. That night we left for Santa Rosa so that we could get to Sonoma earlier.
We checked out Jack London's burned up old house and the museum his wife created, then we walked back to the car and headed over to the Benziger vineyard for some tasting. I ended up joining the wine club, and I'm really excited (read: totally the gayest thing I've ever been gay for) to get a couple wines a month and have a dinner party or something equally queer. After that, we headed over to the Kenwood winery, the place that processes the grapes from Jack London's vineyard. It was pretty great talking to this old man who was giving us the tasting, but we had gotten there late and they closed only a short time later.
We went on a hike up Bald Mountain because we had no other plans. Once we had worn ourselves out we rolled back into town and grabbed a room at a Motel 6. The next day we were heading back to Minneapolis, so we got a bright early start at... well at noon. Noonish. Yeah. Driving through Nevada up into Idaho with a tiny little loop into Oregon.
Reno, Nevada was right on our path, so we had to make the next stop. Just outside of Reno is a place called Mustang Ranch. It's one of the oldest brothels in Nevada, so naturally we went. The first place was filled with gross, fat whores and old, lecherous men. If these grizzled men were pricked they would bleed lech. Whatever that means. Well enough disgusted, we headed across the parking lot from the first bar to the actual Mustang Ranch. It was a bit classier and the whores were... less disgusting? Two of the nice hookers gave us tours after we finished our whiskeys and we saw all around the huge sex rooms and learned a bit of history as well.
All good things come to an end, however, and about 45 minutes later we were back on the road, laughing at the oddities and grotesque sights from the Ranch. We hit Boise late that night around 11 PM and headed to my aunt's house for a free place to sleep. The next day was where we bit the dust. The plan was to drive into Casper, Wyoming, to crash on a friend's couch before making the last drive home. Unfortunately, we woke up in Casper to a blizzard that stretched the entire fucking state.
There are two roads out of Casper, the I-25 North and South. It took them a day and a half to plow. While the blizzard was pretty ridiculous, we were shit out of luck. My friend had to change his flight home and I missed out on a lot of class. Fucking Casper.
Nothing else really happened on the trip home. Goddamn Casper.
The next day we got our asses back on the road at 9:30 AM and started heading down from Denver towards New Mexico - we had to get the Four Corners experience. Driving in the Rockies was the best thing. Traffic was really sparse and I was piloting a European luxury sports car. Can it get much better? It was mostly downhill curves with two lanes on either side of the road, so I was able to go between lanes and take the corners at about 80MPH. That ain't so bad. After Four Corners, the middle of goddamn nowhere, we headed out through Arizona into California. Finally, at 1:30 AM or so, we met some friends at Denny's in Long Beach. What a drive.
Spent a few days in Long Beach, but also quite a bit of time in Santa Monica getting the car repaired. The heat shield over the muffler had cracked loose and so needed to be removed. The car sounds a bit meaner now, but it doesn't bother me too much. We left for San Francisco on Thursday and killed more bugs on our windshield than I think I've ever seen in my life. The grasshoppers were ridiculous.
San Francisco was also pretty damn great. We dropped the car off to get the final repair, which we had called ahead to set up, and walked around the shops and malls in Union Square for a few hours. Once we had the car back we parked in Fisherman's Wharf and spent the rest of the day walking about the hills. That night we left for Santa Rosa so that we could get to Sonoma earlier.
We checked out Jack London's burned up old house and the museum his wife created, then we walked back to the car and headed over to the Benziger vineyard for some tasting. I ended up joining the wine club, and I'm really excited (read: totally the gayest thing I've ever been gay for) to get a couple wines a month and have a dinner party or something equally queer. After that, we headed over to the Kenwood winery, the place that processes the grapes from Jack London's vineyard. It was pretty great talking to this old man who was giving us the tasting, but we had gotten there late and they closed only a short time later.
We went on a hike up Bald Mountain because we had no other plans. Once we had worn ourselves out we rolled back into town and grabbed a room at a Motel 6. The next day we were heading back to Minneapolis, so we got a bright early start at... well at noon. Noonish. Yeah. Driving through Nevada up into Idaho with a tiny little loop into Oregon.
Reno, Nevada was right on our path, so we had to make the next stop. Just outside of Reno is a place called Mustang Ranch. It's one of the oldest brothels in Nevada, so naturally we went. The first place was filled with gross, fat whores and old, lecherous men. If these grizzled men were pricked they would bleed lech. Whatever that means. Well enough disgusted, we headed across the parking lot from the first bar to the actual Mustang Ranch. It was a bit classier and the whores were... less disgusting? Two of the nice hookers gave us tours after we finished our whiskeys and we saw all around the huge sex rooms and learned a bit of history as well.
All good things come to an end, however, and about 45 minutes later we were back on the road, laughing at the oddities and grotesque sights from the Ranch. We hit Boise late that night around 11 PM and headed to my aunt's house for a free place to sleep. The next day was where we bit the dust. The plan was to drive into Casper, Wyoming, to crash on a friend's couch before making the last drive home. Unfortunately, we woke up in Casper to a blizzard that stretched the entire fucking state.
There are two roads out of Casper, the I-25 North and South. It took them a day and a half to plow. While the blizzard was pretty ridiculous, we were shit out of luck. My friend had to change his flight home and I missed out on a lot of class. Fucking Casper.
Nothing else really happened on the trip home. Goddamn Casper.