tRipPing

The Sisters Gottwald traveled from New York to California in 8 days flat. In a Ford Escort. With a Bassett Hound named Sherlock. It was invigorating. I had one meltdown outside Chicago on the second day, but I dug deep and was able to push aside my Safety Scheme (go the nearest airport and get a flight back home to NY). I will post video shortly so that you can experience the trip first-hand. In the meantime, here are some highlights and photos:

Kirsten and I took Amtrak to Albany from Penn Station to meet Gretchen (and Sherlock). Although I had researched the first leg of the trip with road atlas, google directions, Lonely Planet USA guide book, and a proof from Chris Cooper, I made a serious error. While driving in the Adirondacks and seeing a sign for Montreal, I realized that we were going north. Google directions told us to go from Albany to Montreal in order to go to Buffalo. [Pause for reader to think about that one]. We were two hours north of Albany and I decided that we should revert to the original plan, which had been to drive west from Albany to Buffalo. I panicked. We probably should have stuck with the google directions, but it just didn't make sense to me. So, the 10 hour drive to Ann Arbor, Michigan took us about 13. Oops.

We drove through Canada (from Niagara Falls to Detroit). A truck driver tried to run us off the road. I am quite serious. We think it was because we had US plates. And then in the middle of nowhere, Canada, it was midnight and we had no gas. We stopped at a gas station with an attendant who said that he just closed up and couldn't start up the pumps. But if we gave him a ride 15 miles down the road, then he could show us another gas station. Right. Sherlock growled at him from the backseat and would have eaten him if we had taken him up on his sketchy offer.

Driving into Canada was a piece of cake: the border agent looked at our licenses and said "Where are you going?" and we said "To Ann Arbor." She told us to have a good trip and we were on our way. I was driving.

Driving back into the US was ridiculous. The dude sat on his stool and asked us questions for ten minutes. The first question was tough, partly because Gretchen was driving (visual: dreadlocks, 2:00am, her contacts are dried out so her eyes are bloodshot...do the math): "Why are you coming into the US?" Those of you who know Gretchen can predict the tone and response (which every US citizen should rightly have, but for the older sister who is neurotic and wants everything to go smoothly, is a train wreck): "Um, because we live here." Sweet. So, the interview went on and on. He asked her why she was moving to Berkeley and she said, "because I hear it's nice. My sister used to live there. I have a cousin who lives there." He asked, "what's her name?" Gretchen responded, "Nicole." He decided to hold us up for a few minutes longer by saying, "I have a friend who lives in Berkeley." And this time, I chime in, "What's her name?" He responds, "Paulette." It was a tug-of-war between us and him. A power play. It was a waste of time. But it led to my breakdown. I defended him saying that he behaved that way because it was his job. This was an outrage to Gretchen and Kirsten. I can't pull a quote from the discussion that ensued, but basically they said he was representing the fascist regime and I wanted to make the point that terrorists have come over that border. But I never got to that point because I am easily bullied, don't like when people get pissed off and my emotions take over. I cried in the backseat with Sherlock on my lap.

Ann Arbor was cool. Sherlock took a bath at the Red Roof Inn. His confidence soared.

We listened to radio in Indiana and heard bad weather reports. TORNADOS! Grammie had planted the seed in Gretchen’s mind and now my little sister was convinced that we were going to swept away in a tornado. Just north of Chicago, with Kirsten sleeping in the backseat, Gretchen driving, and Erin navigating (again, doing a rather poor job, as we crossed over the interstate but could not find an on-ramp), the skies opened up. Rain fell like I had never seen before. Gretchen panicked, tossed some expletives my way, and my heart rate soared. We could not see a thing. We almost ran over a median. The car pack on top of the car, with its laces tied through the windows and above our heads in the interior, got drenched and water was falling down our backs. It was intense. We decided to stop at the closest hotel. We saw a sign for Super 8, and took the exit. There was no power in the entire town. Well, the gas station’s generator kicked in, but not a light on at Super 8. We pulled up to the hotel, the receptionist checked Kirsten in via flashlight, the lobby was filled with a group of young guys who were knocking back what was probably their tenth Budweiser of the night. It was hot, wet, no power so no A/C, so I decided I would take a shower. The plan quickly fell apart as I turned on the water and the entire fixture catapulted across the length of the tub and crumbled to the floor. No power. No shower. $100. What a deal. [Gretchen will comment, if I do not include this: tornadoes touched down within 15 miles of the Super 8. Yes, where we were driving. Grammie, you were wise to warn us.]

We visited Jiffy Lube in Madison, Wisconsin and the guys were really nice. They told us where to find the Willy Street Food Co-Op and I had one of the best sandwiches there.

Minnesota was really pretty. Actually, that was the most surprising to me. In previous trips, my surprises were Tennessee and Georgia. Minnesota joins them. The dam at the top of the Mississippi River has a convenient Rest Area and it was gorgeous. It also had ample recycling…the first obvious signs that we were in a more environmentally-oriented state. Kirsten enjoyed her time at the Rest Area…video to follow.

Sioux Falls, South Dakota offered us our very first Sobriety Test. In between two exits on the interstate, traffic came to a standstill, with signs in the breakdown lanes, “SLOW: Sobriety Tests ahead.” Again, Gretchen is driving. Again, it is late…around midnight. Again, she has dreadlocks. Again, her contacts have dried up and her eczema on her eyes is bothering her. And new this time, she had just changed into her pajamas for more comfortable driving. There are industrial sized tow trucks (tow trucks that can hold 15 cars a piece) piling on cars as scores of police officers are motioning for random cars to pull over. Somehow, we made it to the end where a normal (read: like Freddy) police officer bent down to Gretchen’s window and shined a flashlight in the car: “How are you tonight? Anybody been smoking?” A bit of profiling, but he was nice. “Anybody been drinking?” And after our collective “No” to each question, he said, “We’re just trying to keep everybody safe. Have a good night.” Sherlock did NOT like him or the police officer circling the car with a larger flashlight.

The Badlands were jaw-dropping. I tried to explain to my sisters that this was the reason that we were driving 8-hour days, so that we could get out of the flat grass of the east and get to the GOOD stuff. We picnicked: Gretchen-style. No utensils and vegetables custom-cut by her teeth. It was grand. We saw a beautiful sunset and went to a 9:00 information session under the stars in the ampitheater with the park ranger. The ranger was a woman from Houston. She was very nice, but it was only her 4th day doing the talk. We had to give her the benefit of the doubt and imagined that she would improve. Sherlock enjoyed being under the stars and as we listened to the info about prairie dogs, he crawled over to where the grass met the concrete and pooped.

Grand Stay Suites: Rapid City, SD. After not being able to find a hotel anywhere in Rapid City, the sweet woman at the Hampton Inn said that her boyfriend had just laid the carpet at “this new hotel” a couple exits down. She called over, asked for a pet room, and we arrived at the Grand Stay. It had a total of three cars in the parking lot. It was brand new. It was awesome. We didn’t want to leave. This was not your typical cross-country experience. We had a workout facility, free Wi-Fi, an apartment (a bedroom, full kitchen, pull out couch), a REAL continental breakfast. We need to write up some reviews of that place. It was located on Disk Drive in Rapid City. I kid you not.

Mount Rushmore and the Black Hills were cool.

Wyoming was amazing. It’s the 5^th biggest state in land area and the 50^th in population. Pretty incredible. Animals all over the place. Beautiful. We stayed in a sketchy AmericInn in Sheridan. In a “non-smoking room.” This was beginning of the “non-smoking rooms” that would last until Nevada. We visited our first Drive-Up Liquor Store where we were served a 6-pack of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale straight to the driver-side window.

The Grand Tetons and Yellowstone blew our minds. Within ten minutes of entering Yellowstone, we found ourselves in a blitz of hail. It lasted about three minutes and left an inch of ice on the car. Immediately after that, we pulled over the watch a Black Bear meander through the field about 30 feet from where we were standing. He proceeded to cross the street with his three foot stride. Then we saw a Bison about ten minutes after that, sitting in the field. His head was massive. Bison weigh two tons. We saw elk everywhere. Old Faithful was steaming but didn’t blow. Yellowstone was amazing. I do have to say for the record that we were disappointed that Sherlock was not allowed anywhere and for him it must have been like four hours of foreplay. All those smells and he had to stay back with one of us on the leash everywhere we went.

We stayed at Carrie’s place in Jackson Hole. She is a friend of mine from Bates, who was in San Francisco when I was in Berkeley. She is finishing up her Film Thesis (just got her MFA in Cinema from SFSU): it’s fantastic, we got a private screening in her log cabin situated right next door to the National Elk Refuge. She has a dog named Nellie. Sherlock and Nellie had a blast…and a little power play, too.

It’s too bad that Idaho is the Potato State. It’s beautiful. The license plates say “Scenic Idaho” and that’s even worse, when it’s stating the obvious. Idaho needs some creative folks to give it some TLC with the state mottos and license plates. It really was spectacular. Idaho Falls, not so much.

Sage Café: Salt Lake City, Utah. Vegan restaurant with a wonderful waiter. I forget his name, but am sure that Gretchen or Kirsten remembers it. When he found out we were sisters, he said “Blood sisters?” Remember, we were in Mormon land, where you refer to your husband’s other wife as your sister [wife]. It blew his mind that we were sisters and said we all looked the same age. I thanked him. He gave us free brownies for the road.

Super 8: Wells, Nevada. Another “Non-Smoking Room.” The woman at the desk pulled up my reservation and said, “Oh, yeah, you’re the one from Brooklyn.” Not a great start. Although Super 8 said the hotel had High-Speed Internet, it did not. It didn’t even have Ethernet Outlets. Kirsten asked the woman if there was internet in Wells, Nevada and she suggested that we “could go to the Brothel next door. But I don’t recommend it.” We spent a night without internet. The next morning, out our bathroom window, a car was parked in the tall brown desert grass. The driver’s door was ajar, the trunk open, and we think someone was slumped in the front seat. There was a rattlesnake next to the hotel when we took Sherlock for a walk. The snake’s head was chopped off. In some way that made us feel better. We saw that Bella’s Espresso offered free Wi-Fi, so we pulled into the parking lot and gave it a test-run. Indeed, it did work. Thinking that we should make an espresso purchase so that we were not stealing wireless, Kirsten did a quick internet search for Wells, Nevada and the first thing that popped up was “Bella’s Espresso. A Legal Brothel in Wells, Nevada.” An espresso shop AKA a brothel. Fascinating.

“One Love” by Bob Marley was playing when we drove over the mountains and got the first glimpse of Lake Tahoe shimmering in the late afternoon sun. Gretchen exuded happiness. This was home now. Sherlock loved Tahoe, especially because there were dog beaches. He rolled in the sand, played with some dogs and began to smell really bad.

Driving through Sacramento sucked. The traffic was terrible. But from Tahoe to Sacramento, I reminisced about November 2, 2004 (Election Day) when Chris and I were going the opposite direction to Reno in his 1990 pick-up. We had no heat, it was freezing. Actually, we missed a snowstorm by hours. By the time we were in Reno, it was snowing.

In Alameda, California we stayed with our cousin, Nicole. Actually, Kirsten and Gretchen are still staying with her while Gretchen looks for a place to live. It was nice to see Nicole. I haven’t seen her in about seven years. In Berkeley, we had lunch with my bosses at the new vegan restaurant. Gretchen tells me that she has eaten at Herbivore everyday since she has arrived. We showed Sherlock the dog park and he didn’t know what hit him. It is a fenced-in park filled with dogs. His initiation was a bunch of bigger dogs smelling his butt at the entrance. He passed the test and I hear he has met a 4-pound Chihuahua who he has fallen in love with. To each his own.