HaaaaHaaaa!! Gotcha Good F#ckerrrr!

(‘excerpts from the longest drive to date’. or, ‘written whilst driving’.)

The subject line is a direct quote from my darling sister’s mouth. Allow me to explain.

We left San Francisco at 7:45am, a bit later than the compromise we’d decided on the night before of 7:30. See, I’d prefer 6am, Jan would prefer 9am. But I’d Google-mapped the distance and knew our upcoming trek would be about 12 hours. We agreed on 7:30.

Anyways. So, we left S.F. at 7:45. (Shout out to Kev-Dawg for the Californian hospitality!) Now, I realize that a bridge is a bridge, but still. I was thankful not to be from S.F. because the two-minute drive over the Golden Gate Bridge was unreal. Seen so many times in movies and tv, it was like: Wow, we’re actually driving on the Golden Gate Bridge. If we lived there and grew up with it, it definitely wouldn’t have been as cool as it was, no matter how brief.

We’re back on Hwy 1 (not I-5 through the middle of the state, but back on the curvy, two-lane road snaking up the coast). We have lunch at a place in Fort Bragg called Glass Beach. Legend has it the locals used to dump all their garbage into the ocean to the north of the city. The ocean then, serendipitously, washed all the waste back onto their beach. Ha polluters, take that! We were told there would be all of this rubbish beached upon the sand and that we could find handfuls of sea glass—regular glass from Coke bottles, for example, that had been washed over so long it was smooth and stone-like instead of jagged and sharp. The beach wasn’t exactly what we expected. No mounds of trash, no handfuls of sea glass. BUT. We did spend about thirty minutes searching for worthy pieces, and found plenty of acceptable fragments.

After the beach, we pick up Hwy 101 and we pray for a straight road where we can make up time. The spiraling, mountainous journey is getting a bit tedious. We’re both sick to our stomachs, we’re tired of driving 30mph to avoid careening off a cliff. Unfortunately 101 is much the same, except a watery death has now been replaced by one from hungry giant redwoods waiting below. We make it to Eureka, thankful the road is finally straightening out, and gas up.

This is where Jan figures out that my estimated Portland arrival time is not very accurate. She exclaims, “Crap! Bub, it’s seven hours still from Eureka to Portland.” This is at about 3pm. We’ve been driving for over seven hours already. We’re not even to Oregon yet. Whoops. Apparently my 12-hour estimate was if we’d been on I-5, which we hadn’t, and we weren’t planning on for a while. We’re now looking at about 15 hours. A bit of frustration and panic begin to set in. The Tuckfields are waiting for us in Portland! With cookies!! Fresh. Baked. Cookies!!! We’re still seven hours away. AND, the road is about to get all warped and twisted again. And it’s raining now.

The final two and a half hours of California roads are a grueling test of endurance. We pass the Redwoods in a blink; they were, um, tall? Sorry guys, maybe next time? We’ve been driving on CA highways for almost 800 miles and we’re just about done? I have to pee really bad and Jana’s stomach still hurts?

A celebration erupts in the car when we get to the WELCOME TO OREGON sign. Finally. New State Day! (Oregon marks the 12^th state) We get the Tuckfields on the phone, explain our predicament. Kym soothes us with promises of warm cookies, and then she said the only thing that is propelling us to Portland (actually propelling Jan, I really couldn’t care less). Kym promises that she’s already planning on staying up late because she wants to see the Royal Wedding!!! 1: I’m relieved because I didn’t want them waiting up for us. 2: Jana is relieved because all week she’s been scheming how to watch this whole ordeal of a production on television and every time I’ve been like, no that’s dumb.

[Insert selected quote from above] 

We’re now about two hours from Portland, barreling down the darkened I-5. (We’d also like to thank President Eisenhower for his straight, fast, and efficient Interstate Road System.) I have to pee again, but Jan has a wedding to catch. Guess I’ll dig one of the empty bottles out of the back seat…

In other news: We just passed our 5,000^th mile. Go, baby, go.

You’re Just Getting Funky with Everybody

Greeting from San Francisco!

Let’s catch up, bullet point style:

*Remember when we woke up in Vegas after that night of partying and we couldn’t remember a thing because someone had slipped us roofies and Dad was married to a stripper named Jade, Jana had stolen a police car, and I pulled my tooth out on bet?? Wait, that didn’t happen to us, did it? No, our night was pretty tame in comparison. I did win $20 though. Apparently I’m pretty magical when it comes to choosing a good slot machine.

*Cirque du Soleil is f.r.e.ak.i.n.g. a.m.a.z.i.n.g. If you ever have a chance to see one of these shows, just suck it up and splurge for the $120 tickets, get yourself a great seat, and enjoy the amazing-ness. When the curtain call ended and the house lights came back on, the three of us looked at each other in speechless awe. It was performing at it’s finest, seriously pushing the human body to limits that seem impossible. Go see it!

*After a great week, we said goodbye to Dad at the Vegas airport. Thanks again for joining us Dad, we’re glad to help you cross off some of those Bucket List items.

*California weather has been a surprise to us. Sunny San Diego was a cloudy gloomfest, LA was so windy it was unpleasant, and San Fran has been surprisingly chilly, sunny but chilly. Santa Barbara was the only stop that hit the ideal weather nail on the head: sunny, warm but a breeze, crystal sky, almost perfect. We have realized, though, that it’s taking us very little time to figure out which cities agree with us, and which ones don’t. So even though we aren’t in any one place for a long time, we know which ones we want to see again.

*Apparently part of Highway 1 (P.C.H) collapsed into the ocean last month and caused the road to be closed. We didn’t find this out until we got to the barricade and had to turn around, about two hours outside of S.B. This part of the drive was actually quite intense: it’s almost like a rollercoaster with the turns and the dips and the, you know, cliff dropoff right at your side. It’s been one of the best drives so far though, despite the turn-around and any nauseating effects. (On the flip side, the closure prevented us from getting to Big Sur, Point Lobos, and Monterey. Maybe next time…)

*Lastly, to all of the friends we’ve seen in this part of the country, catching up has been fantastic. Carly, Lutz, Jenny, Eric, Rob, Suelo, you all are amazing, and we appreciate your hospitality to the fullest. To the rest of you we haven’t yet reached: We’re On Our Way.

"All the views are great - so don't go tryin to kill yourself for one"

"Keep it for your children and for all who come after you, as one of the great sights every American should see." 
  -- Theodore Roosevelt, on the Grand Canyon in 1908. 

Where to start?
We’ve landed, figuratively, in Vegas, a day early in fact. How did we get here?

The Four Corners, as advertised, was more for the novelty of existing in four places at the same time. Why stand on a line that signifies the meeting of two states, when you can stand on a cross that signifies the meeting of four states? In reality it was a slab of concrete, with an emblem in the center, and signs marking the four states heading in four directions. Yet, the allure of it was still somehow magically fascinating. In a landscape that appeared very similar from each vantage point, it was still pretty cool to take a half turn and suddenly, instead of staring at Utah, you’re staring at Arizona. Another half turn and there’s New Mexico. A third takes you to Colorado, and then you’re back to UT. MAGIC! What was almost even more fun, was to watch the new visitors rush to the center and take an assortment of photos of themselves and their children and their spouses and their brothers and sisters laying, standing, crouching, practically playing Twister with the four states and their various limbs. (Just as we had done 5 minutes prior.)

Our trip to the Grand Canyon from the Corners was much quicker than expected and therefore gave us an entire afternoon to explore (which then put us ahead of schedule). First, read that Teddy Rose quote above again. What can I really say about this place? Raise your hand if you’ve been to the Grand Canyon. If your hand isn’t up, you need to work this place somewhere in your future plans. Let me preface it with this: I was wowed by the Little Colorado River Gorge (Much to my later surprise, I thought this was the G.C. at first.) We wove our way around the gorge as we drove deeper into the park, catching teasing glimpses of the Canyon as we made our way to the back. The plan was to drive as far back as possible without stopping and then slowly work our way out, taking time to enjoy the views. The first Canyon view that we saw literally stopped us in our tracks. You could put five Little Colorado River Gorges inside of the Grand Canyon.

How is this possible?? How is something so immense and colossal possible? The Canyon was ten miles across in some areas, it went more than a mile deep at parts, and here you are standing on the edge of it staring into SO MUCH VASTNESS. The sun was dropping, the red rocks were radiant, I’ll just stop there because there aren’t enough words that I can put together to describe the sight. You just have to see it.

After a while it was just overwhelming. We looked at it from many different viewpoints, and after a while, it was almost incomprehensible that we were still looking at the same piece of land. I hope the pictures can convey even a tiny percentage of the real magnificence of it.

It’s impossible to compare anything to the Grand Canyon. But our next stop took us to another impressive National Park: Zion. Located in southwestern Utah, Zion presented us with a separate rock from what we’d previously seen. Zion was a departure from the dark red sandstone we’d seen and a formal introduction to the brighter, whiter Navajo Sandstone. We had another bracing, mountainous drive into the heart of the park, passing more formations that took the words from our mouths. In Zion, compared to G.C, we were staring up at these formations, not down on them. We were among the formations. Zion is an ideal place for hikers and rock-climbers. That not really being our forte, not to mention we were unequipped for such thrill seeking, we decided on the two least strenuous of the five trails to traverse. Venturing up and down these beginner’s trails we hiked over three miles to see the Emerald Pools and the Weeping Rocks, both scenes of waterfalls spitting over the sandstone and chilled natural pools of spring water.  It was nice to finally get out and into a Park. We didn’t take the hike (or the donkeys) down to the Grand Canyon floor, and we didn’t tackle any of the journeys to get up close with the arches at Arches, so it was very enjoyable to be amongst the rocks and the trees and Mother Nature.

Now.

A two full-day, three night stop in the City of Sin, our longest stop in a single place to date. The Strip, Hoover Dam, Texas Hold ‘Em, Las Vegas Wedding Chapels, Buffets out the Wazoo, Strip Clubs Galore, who knows what we’ll dive into. (Don’t worry Grandmas, we won’t scandalize Jana with any strip clubs, that was a joke, we don’t even like strip clubs.) There are replicas of New York City, Paris, and The Great Pyramids all on the same block!! Since we arrived with only a little money, we don’t have much to spare, but Sis has a special $1 bill and I have $5 on Nickel Slots at Caesar’s Palace, and we wouldn’t mind walking away with enough to pay off our college debt.

On our first full day, we toured the Hoover Dam.

Hoover Dam Guide:
Welcome everyone. I am your dam guide, Arnie. Now I'm about to take you through a fully functional power plant, so please, no one wander off the dam tour and please take all the dam pictures you want. Now are there any dam questions?
Cousin Eddie:
Yeah, where can I get some damn bait?

That about sums up the damn Dam. But no, really, it was the first man-made-marvel we’ve seen in a while. It rates up there achievement wise with the Empire State Building, the Golden Gate Bridge (yet to be seen), and the St. Louis Arch. I just kept wondering what it would feel like to slide down the 700-foot face of the thing. It was almost slide-like in it’s design. But the fact that at its base it’s at thick is it is tall is just incredible.

Tonight, we take Vegas by storm.

By. Storm.   

Let’s Git It!

It’s been several days since we drove into a bright and sunny Albuquerque. The mountains there, appearing so enormous in the New Mexican desert, now seem more like mere turds of the of the Rocky Mountains, squeezed out near the end of the range. But let’s back up just a second.

Finding a parking deck tall enough to clear the Escape + giant bubble produced plenty of laughs as we pulled into the Albuquerque International Airport parking lot. We now know the Escape/bubble combo can clear 8’6”. But finally we parked, and waited until a purple Southwest jet from Kansas City brought our father into the desert. Ah, back to the world of hotels and their comfy beds and warm showers.

We departed from Albu on the first morning of his week-long tour with us and headed due north for the Colorado border. Our route was US-550 North, which would later morph into the

Million Dollar Highway

. (Conspiracy theorists give us a few options for this moniker: the scenic view, the fact it was the first highway built in the US costing over a million bucks, or maybe that it was paved with dirt used from the surrounding mines and therefore possibly contained copper, gold, diamonds, and other various precious things).

Here’s where the Rockies come back into it. As we neared the Colorado border, it was as if suddenly (seriously) the clouds parted, or maybe dissipated, and the snowy peaks beamed before us like a Heavenly vision in the elevated sunlight.

Oh man, oh man. Oh man! was all I could say. Or as Steve Snyder said, when he first saw them, Seriously?? Are you serious??

Beyond that, I was speechless. Having grown up in the Midwest, and never traveling west of Lawrence, KS, the mountains were simply astonishing in the way they jutted out of the earth, still covered in white, and glowing in the sun. They were behemoth and majestic and dramatic in the way they were tectonically smashed together a million years ago. The route we were on took us straight into their grandeur. Our road wound around and up and around and up. Our brown New Mexican mountains had become covered in aspens, firs, spruces, and snow. The Escape weaved up and up, around bends and hairpin turns where the mountainside simply dropped away and vanished. Just the geography was stunning, the rockslides, the temperate forest, the snow mounds, the mining towns, it was picturesque. We reached an elevation of about 11,000 feet before descending on the other side, ears popping and brakes burning the whole winding way down.

The night was spent in Grand Junction, CO before journeying into Utah where we were met by another jaw-dropping natural wonder: Arches National Park. A planning miscalculation forced us to hurry a bit in the park. We were unable to hike the three miles to widely-recognized Delicate Arch, but we did hike the half mile up to the best view point of it. We saw sandstone sculptures of the Three Gossips, the Garden of Eden, the Double Arch, and the North and South Windows. We were all in silent awe of God’s work. That or mumbling, “This is incredible… Oh man, oh man… look at it… where do you stop looking…” We took it in as long as we could, then we sped out of the park to make our 10:30am appointment for rafting.

We arrived at the Moab Adventures homebase in just enough time. We put on our water-wear clothing. We rubbed in the sunblock. We grabbed our Wal-Mart brand pool shoes. We then boarded a bus and rode forty-five minutes up the side of the Colorado River where we then boarded a raft with seven other gentle souls and embarked on our three hour rafting trip down the river. Now, I don’t know much about rafting, in fact this was our first time riding, collectively, but the guide said the rapids we encountered were Class One, out of Class Five. That’s kinda like a few strong breezes compared to an F5 tornado. So don’t think we were out there manhandling these waves left and right. There were a few sizeable ones though, and when we attacked them with our small raft the guy from Georgia behind me kept yelling, “Let’s git it!!” I had offered myself up as one of the front-sitters, in a way to protect the others from being splashed with the freezing cold Colorado River water. It wasn’t really the water temperature that was so bothersome, it was the raging Colorado River wind tunnel that added an extra chill to your bones. Me and Mark (a different dad on the raft) selflessly chattered and shivered our way down the river so that everyone else could enjoy the views of sandstone canyon walls, and the beautiful sunshine, and the sound of the water below.

Today was a busy day. It was New State Day! as we crossed into the big Utah. We saw amazing, I mean freaking a-mazing, rock formations in the park. We (kinda, but not really) extreme-rafted down the Colorado River. We checked out a small section of Moab, UT. And now we’re ready for bed, so we can have another day of New State Day!, in fact, tomorrow we see four states at once.

Three Gosips

Balanced Rock

Double Arches

Delicate Arch

Windows

Action Shot on the Rafting Trip

After the Trip - Andy's Soaked!

Good 'Ol New Mexico

As we approached the Natural Entrance to the Carlsbad Caverns (basically a giant hole in the ground), Jana asked, what is that smell?

Well, Sis, that is the asshole of the earth.

Not too far off, I must admit. That smell, was the smell of a million Mexican red tail bats that inhabit the Bat Cave (a lightless section of the caverns, prohibited to the public).  (I was able to identify this smell thanks to the hundreds of bats who infested my ceiling in Ghana, creating a similar smell. Thanks guys!) For however long these million bats have lived in the caverns, they’ve been dumping on the cave floor below them. At present, National Park Rangers tell us that the guano heap is over forty feet deep. Produces a pretty noxious odor, eh? Nice.

So perhaps, Sis, that is the toilet  of the earth.

The caverns were the first natural wonder we’ve seen thus far. They were amazing, and all we did was take the beginner’s self-guided walking tour. We didn’t dare to venture with rangers into the more aggressive areas of the cave. It isn’t that we didn’t want to, but apparently that extra-added bit of thrill and fun comes with a price tag.

By the way: It’s National Park Week! Fee admittance!! (Except for aggressive treks.)

Still, we spiraled (or maybe spelunked) our way around stalactites and stalagmites, beyond mammoth columns of calcite far past the reach of natural light, where your eyes start to play with you and you think you’re seeing tiny creatures moving about the rocks, down down down into the ground.

They told us it was only 2.5 miles from beginning to end, but it felt more like 5 or 6. We descended only 770 feet down, but I’ll tell you, going into that first drop, it felt like 770 miles deep. The temp was a chilly 56 for the duration of the hike. I thought we were making our way to the center of the earth.

My favorite point was the Bottomless Pit. Because obviously, it isn’t bottomless (the sign says it’s only 140 feet down—which total ruins the fantasy of it). BUT. What if it was bottomless?? What if you fell in, and never stopped falling??? Do you think, after a while, you wouldn’t care that you were falling? You’d take a nap, or read a book, or something, because there was no fear of ever hitting the ground. That would be soo cool. For a while. Then it would get boring probably. Here I am, seven years later, still falling.  

Another cool point was the Balcony, which overlooked the Lower Cave (about a hundred feet below us). The L.C. is also off limits to the public, so you could only see as far as the blue lights stretched, then nothing but dark. Dark dark. Who knows what kind of crazy cave monsters live back there, just out of sight, watching us, just waiting, waiting…

Overall, the caverns were really great, especially the 770 ft elevator ride to the surface at the end. Beam. Me. Up. Scottie.

Speaking of.

Then we visited Roswell, NM. For all you who watched X-Files, I don’t need to go into the significance of this place. We went to the International UFO Museum and Research Center located on the main strip of the town (which was much bigger than expected – the town, not the museum). On the way in, aliens greeted us from restaurant billboards and hotel lawns.

The museum, through various pictures, recounts, affidavits, and testimonies, made a pretty convincing argument that something did crash there in July 1947, and that there were little bodies carried away by the US Government. For every excuse the govt had as a cover-up, these people had an explanation. What we gathered, is that many people definitely saw something, at the same time, and the Army came and took it all away very quickly and very hush-hush, then made some silly justification about weather balloons and test dummies. Very fishy…

Maybe we’ll try to stop by Area 51 when we’re in Nevada.

We finally made it to Albuquerque, bought groceries at Wal-Mart, then set up our handy-dandy camp stove right there in the parking lot and grilled chicken and vegetables. We made friends with a small RV community spending the night there, and then we ventured into the Escape for the first night of sleeping in the car in a Wal-Mart parking lot. We also got in our first Scrabble game! (In the cramped back of the Escape, spread out on our sleeping bags, using the light from the parking lot lights.)

Since I’m here typing this right now, I suppose last night was a success. No bad guys came and took us away. We didn’t have to fight off any N.M. gangs with our weapons cache. No hobos bothered us. No bears ripped the doors off in search of food.

We lived!

Shout out to the Hasslers: without your glorious donation of luggage rack and camp stove, we wouldn’t have had dinner or a place to sleep last night. We would like to dedicate our next drink to Mindy, Steve, and Kyle, for making our first night in Albuquerque an accomplishment.

Natural Entrance to Carlsbad Caverns

Home Sweet Home

Dinner at it's Finest

Austintatious

One more state travelled since our last post. Nearly all 881 miles of I-10 across Texas. We chose Austin as a place to explore because of its motto (Keep Austin Weird) and because of its glowing reviews by Kimmie and other TX PCVs. (For those who don’t understand the lingo, that means Texas Peace Corps Volunteers) Really, we just wanted to see what the city was about. What we found was:

*UT campus, which is practically a city in itself. We really wanted to take a tour of the Tower, which is where Charles Whitman barricaded himself on the observation deck with a rifle for a 96-minute standoff that resulted in 14 people killed and the formation of S.W.A.T. teams. But unfortunately for us they only give tours on the weekends. We also toured the Harry Ransom Center, with it’s Tennessee Williams exhibit, one of five complete copies of the Gutenberg bible in the United States (and one of 48 surviving in the world), and the very first photograph ever taken. We also saw the massive football stadium.

*Shopping on

S. Congress Ave.

had its array of antique shops, boutiques, and alternative stores. Here we had lunch at Home Slice (a pizza joint) and enjoyed dessert - a nice strawberry cupcake - from Hey Cupcake! in the Trailer Park. This area is slightly similar to the Fall Festival where vendors sell their goodies out the sides of trailers, such as a 1967 Airstream.

*We wanted to visit Barton Spring which is a natural spring that stays 62 degrees year-round and is open to the public for swimming. The weather was slightly cloudy until late afternoon, at which point we just wanted to relax in a park under a shade tree. Therefore we chose the shade tree and relaxing combo over the swimming in the spring.

*For dinner, there was Matt’s World Famous El Rancho with its incredible Bob Armstrong queso (loaded with beef and guacamole).

*The largest urban bat colony in the world is not very spectacular in early spring. It is said that 750,000 bats flock to the S. Congress bridge every spring where they live all summer, while the pregnant mothers have their babies and teach them to fly. In late summer, such as the month of August, all 1.5 million bats are seen at dusk as they leave their home under the bridge to dine on insects. We didn’t get the dramatic swarm we were hoping for.

*As much as we would have liked to enjoy the Austin nightlife, these long days of walking for miles really wears us out. By 9 o’clock we are ready for beddy-bye (since Andy poopy-pants -his new nickname for when he’s grumpy- insists on waking up before the sun rises).

Our hosts in Austin, Aaron and Emily (friends of Kimmie) graciously allowed us to eat their food, wash our clothes, and play with their dog, Charlie. Thanks to them we had two less nights of sleeping in the car, eating cold sandwiches, no showering, and pooping on the side of the road. THANKS GUYS! J

 
 

Some thoughts: when leaving Texas….

It’s crazy/creepy/cool how the road disappears ahead of you. The mirage or the heat makes it just go away. I want Bill Nye or somebody to explain how that works to me.

In Indiana we don’t have road signs that say: CAUTION – STRONG CROSS WINDS. At times you literally had to fight the wind to stay on the road.

We did, however, like this sign: DON’T MESS WITH TEXAS - $1000 FINE FOR LITERING. Ha! Oh, Texas.

Also, the amount of rigor-mortis deer on the side of the road, like half intact, guts hanging out, feet all in the air, was incredible. At least ten. Granted we covered like 500 miles today, but it still seemed like a lot of dead deer.

"Get down - you're showing all of Bourbon Street your undies"...

... "That's better than my boobies!"

IF you didn’t already know… the locals pronounce it “Nawlins”.

My brother realized today that I’ll do something in which I originally dared him to do – so not to challenge me. (which includes climbing on top of a not-so-sturdy paper box to get closer to the Bourbon Street sign for a fantastic photo...in a dress >)

 Pat O’Brien’s has a pretty amazing Hurricane (it’s a drink). And Good Food, too >

The Market is not very busy during the week, but beignets are incredible any day of the week. >

It’s fascinating what you can remember about being in a place before; even if it was a short visit the first time.

The Hurricane Katrina museum is new…and very touching.

Today’s events included:

*finding a parking spot

*walking to

Jackson Square

*Making a new friend (see photo below)

*finding the Market

*exploring the streets (See Photo Below)

*visiting the Hurricanes Katrina & Rita museum

*eating at Café du Monde

*exploring the streets (See photo below)

*wondering down

Bourbon Street

*dining at Pat O’Brien’s

*looking for, finding, and watching/enjoying street performers

*venturing back to the hotel to relax & prepare for the ride to Austin, TX tomorrow

P.S. We just want to clarify for the grandma generation: pimp-ass hotel means its really nice, not that there are actual pimps walking around. Sorry for the lingo, will be more careful in the future. ( Thanks for the hotel Uncle Mike :)! )

So Good You'll Slap Your Mama!!

Trip Route:



Before We Left St. Louis



St. Louis • New Orleans • Austin • Albuquerque •Arches NP • Four Corners • Zion NP • Grand Canyon • Las Vegas • San Diego • Los Angeles • San Francisco • Portland, OR • Seattle • Glacier NP • Yellowstone NP • Grand Tetons NP • Bad Lands NP • Minneapolis • Chicago • Niagara Falls • Portland, ME • Boston • New York City • Washington D.C. • West Virginia • Pennsylvania • Ohio • Kentucky • Evansville



State #2 (#1 = Missouri)



State #3



Dammit, I love Adam Del Conte. Goshdammit, I do. Spending just one hour with him on the first day of this trip was great. And that greatness doesn't even include the 12 hours it took Jana and I to get from St.L to N.O. (where our Uncle Mike has us up in a pimp-ass hotel) in which we sang as loud as we could to Love Shack, started the biography of John Lennon out loud (who needs audiobooks?), drove through 5 states (almost entirely in hellacious rainstorms), had lunch with a loveable beast of a man, and made it otherwise completely through day one intact and unscathed. Tomorrow we start exploring.

State #4

State #5

D.N.F.



Prerace



Mile 6



There’s probably a really great quote about failure that I could find on Google. Something very inspiring and motivational by Winston Churchhill or Ghandi or someone of that character. But instead, since wi-fi at this hotel is like $15, I’m going to make my own failure quote.

“Failure sucks.

But it’s the thing that propels us more fiercely into success.”

That sounds pretty good.

The reason for such a quote? I found it somewhere between the pavement at mile 25 and the medical tent where some sort of paranoid-doom-syndrome was infecting my poor, poor mind.

I’ll spare you all the gory race details, it was going fine until about 22-23. At 24 I wasn’t sure I could get there: I was demolishing my 4 hour goal by like ten minutes, and I hadn’t stopped to walk at all, but I was sinking fast. Plummeting. My dad had planned to meet me for the last mile and drag my sorry ass in. Kimmie was just behind me. I could see the finish line.

Then I couldn’t keep myself running on the double yellow line in the middle of the street. I weaved left. Over-corrected right. Slowed. Staggered. Stumbled. My dad caught my arm. Kimmie caught up to me and grabbed my other arm. They tried to motivate me through the pain. My heart was in it, but my body couldn’t keep up.

To the pavement I went. (The rest is in and out as my mind spiraled into blackness.) I yelled, “Go Kimmie go, I’m sorry!!” (This I was told later.) Then suddenly there were paramedics surrounding me, doing paramedic things. I remember screaming, “I just want to finish!” I checked my watch and gave a countdown as I begged them to carry me over the line before my goal. Begged as in pleaded for dear life. I beseeched my father, my sister, the medics. No one could do anything—they were trying to keep me alive.

Suddenly I was secured to a body board on a gator, going who the hell knows where. My countdown continued to Barry and Craig (the medics driving me). My dear sister was also imploring the driver to just break the rules and drive across the line. I just wanted to finish. Just finish.

“Ma’am, we have to get him to the medical tent, we don’t know what is wrong. We can’t cross the finish.”

“Please, he just wants to finish. Please, sir.”

“Look, I can’t do that. But you can take his bib and go.”

“Take it Jana, take it! GO!!”

She then ripped the bib from my shirt and took off out of the gator at about 19^th Street. The finish line was at 14^th Street.

In the Medical Tent

Then the tent. The feeling of vomit curdling in my gut. Numbness in my legs and feet. Tingles all over. Cramps. Extreme dehydration. Electrolyte loss. No sodium. Fever. More medics. Kimmie, my little nurse who could. Jana and Dad. And the pain. See, I trained in the winter. I was never prepared for a sunny day when the low was 70 degrees. No one was.

I was delirious. I seriously thought the hand of death was resting over my heart. You hear all those running horror stories where people drop dead during a race, or die from dehydration. I thought that was me.

“Kimmie you’re a nurse. Tell me I’m going to be fine. Am I going to die?? Don’t lie to me, don’t you lie to me. I’m going to die. Kimmie, fix me. Fix me!”

“Jana, tell the doctor’s to just make me feel better. I just want to feel better. Make them make me feel better!!”

“Call Mom, I have to tell her I love her.”

“Jan, can we still go on the trip?”

"Call Katharyn too, I need to talk to her."

The Grim Reaper was standing at the edge of the bed pointing his long boney finger at my face.

NOT TODAY DEATH!

The pain didn’t subside, but eventually the laughs came easier. Kimmie convinced me my street cred had just tripled. Everyone DNF’s eventually. My story was just really good. And the pain, sickness, paranoia, and death thoughts only make it better.

I was there! I was so so close. To death (probably not really), and the finish line.
Eventually I sat up. Then stood. Then I was cleared to leave. And now my body just aches like I ran a marathon. (Or almost did.)

So, for me: DNF.

For brother/sister/awesome combo of 25 miles and 1.2 miles: 4:01.

But man, that quote about failure, it’s true. So here’s where that ferocity comes in.

Chicago Marathon. 10/9/11. I’m there. With a new goal, and renewed motivation.

PS: Good thing I had my clean undies on.

Dinner This Evening... Alive =)