A Moving Road Trip

Moving sucks.  Moving your friends double sucks.  It’s hot, things are heavy, they picked an apartment on the 3rd floor without an elevator, half this stuff is gonna go in the trash in the next move anyway.  In the time that I’ve known him, my friend of almost 20 years, has moved multiple times for varying reasons.  Way back, he would hit me up to help him but I think after about the 5th move, he quit asking me.  He might have hired a company or got other friends in to help him from then on.  I’m sure my complaining had nothing to do with his decision.  In recent years, his moves have gotten greater in distance, as in, to other countries.  I’m super proud of his accomplishments in teaching abroad and seeing the world.  In return, when he is spending time back in the states, I usually jump at the chance to see him.  Different teaching jobs require their own levels of paperwork in each county, which can be simple or super difficult and with our most current situation, every avenue becomes twice as challenging.  Over the past fall season, he was home for a few months, waiting for all the appropriate overseas boxes to get checked off for employment, and asked if I’d be interested in helping him move a few things.. from California to Wisconsin.  A tiny bit of furniture and some old photos needed a safe escort to another family member’s house.  I absolutely jumped at the chance to assist in a road trip move across the country.  (Extreme caution was observed to ensure our own safety, especially as the more east we traveled, the more relaxed the Covid rules seemed to get.)

 The ideal plan was for no more than 7 hours of actual driving per day, to avoid fatigue, with an outdoor point-of-interest rest stop that would count as “seeing the sites” along the way.  Of course, hopes were not set too high knowing travel restrictions would be in place, so the schedule was largely flexible.  As we left the lively cities of Southern California, we gassed up in Vegas, and arrived in the border city of St. George for a late lunch in Utah.  (Drive thru and park to eat, as indoor dining was still shut down in most of the country.)  The sun was setting fast so there was only a small detour to the entrance of Bryce Canyon.  There’s an adorable tourist town before you get to the actual canyons with resort properties, shopping, dining, and a severely rude old man standing next to a “do not use driveway to turn around” sign.  It’s like a cargo van making a U-turn in his driveway caused him physical pain.  “OK, President Pavement!”  Whoops, my finger slipped and we laughed away.  What little of the canyons I saw were stunning in the orange light.  Planning a weekend return trip is already on my to-do list, sans The Driveway Dictator.

To see all the hues and geographical detail, viewing in person is the only way.

Our second day on the road was supposed to end with a self-guided tour of Colorado’s Red Rocks Park and Amphitheatre but of course, issues.  The rock formations give the acts that play within bone-chilling acoustics and striking painted skies.  When nothing is scheduled, visitors are free to roam the rocks and experience the sights and sounds for free until sundown.  The website listed all activities were canceled due to Covid, yet after passing way more people then there should have been, I got to the entrance and was told I couldn’t go in as there was a private event happening.  Now all those teens in fancy get ups walking the parking lot made sense.  Yet, not only was there nothing listed on the website, IT’S A PANDEMIC! I angrily soaked myself in sanitizer back in the car, grumbling about how I wouldn’t come back, even though The Rockies in Denver were autumn picturesque.  

Hard to find such great parking at other concert venues.

Day three was the trek through to Omaha, Nebraska.  Allow me to give the not surprisingly lackluster details; Corn, Trump sign, Corn, Trump sign, Corn, Corn, Corn, Trump sign.  After being immersed in such rich, maskless culture by the time we reached the hotel, my friend and I opted to stay in and order Chinese food.  We didn’t make it to the Lewis and Clark Expedition historical site marker, but that Chinese food was worth the cursed trip into this state.  The evening ended with Bob’s Burgers and a wild thunderstorm that blew in and out of town before we finished a couple of episodes.  

Yeah, that's it.  You have now seen the whole of Nebraska.

Rise ‘n shine on the fourth and finally day of the move.  The goal was to reach the lower Wisconsin area by the night's end but to do so would bring us straight across the state of Iowa.  The only slightly interesting outdoor destination for the state I could conjure up to plot for our potential stretch break was the real life birthplace of fictional character, James T. Kirk.  You heard that right, Iowa’s “on the map” moment comes from the captain of a spaceship from a show that's been in syndication for 50 years… or was it?  

The rule that’s pretty universal for a road trip is that the driver is in charge of the radio.  Since my friend didn’t put me on the insurance (my feet didn’t reach the pedals anyway), that made him the lone driver so I just rolled with whatever he picked.  He had several funny and interesting podcasts that I enjoyed but his running theme was to play music that correlated to each state we drove through.  I can’t remember all 30 hours of what we listened to but I think it was Elvis in Nevada and The Book of Mormon soundtrack in Utah, but what was curious to me was what the soundtrack for The Bridges of Madison County musical had to do with our drive through Iowa.  

The unread book on my shelf, that has a movie starring Clint Eastwood, that I’ve never seen, actually has a Broadway musical, that I’d never heard of.  This 1992 historical fiction romance novel sold so well that the movie was made in 1995 and then the musical’s first performance was in the summer of 2013.  The long of the short of it is a bored housewife meets a man visiting Madison County to photograph the historic bridges by asking her for directions, they fall in love and he asks her to leave with him but she won’t do that to her family.  No spoilers, this genre isn’t my go-to for entertainment so I’ve avoided it thus far, but my friend enjoys it so off we went to explore the bridges and the quaint town of Winterset, Iowa.  

With a large brick courthouse in the center, the town expanded out only 2 or 3 short streets including mom ‘n’ pop businesses on all sides.  The petite Welcome Center was a museum and gift shop for all things related to the novella.  All the bookcases that held the souvenirs were named after and carved with the same roofs as the covered bridges (round, pointed, or flat) which was a great way for our bubbly guide to help teach us about the history and which bridges were best to visit.  Of course, before going on our road trip within a road trip, we needed coffee.  Gifting us maps with maximized routes for time, gushing about her favorite songs in the musical, and ringing up our postcards was only some of what the delightful guide did for us.  She had a few recommendations for coffee and breakfast goodies and we went with the first one.

After passing The Cellar two times, we found it, and it was an actual cellar which explains why we missed it.  Inside was Café meets Country Cottage and as my friend placed his order, more people funneled down the stairs.  I was about to place my previously recommended order when an older blonde woman piped up behind me.  She was peppy, excited, and told me I would be her ‘good deed of the day’.  She offered to pay for my order.  I’ve never had that happen to me before.  Of course, I was all set on my order so I didn’t take advantage of her, and was grateful for her to have purchased my small House blend with half and half and a pumpkin scone.  This tiny town of farmers and commuters to the capital city, Des Moines is filled with super sweet people.  Our guide, who was a California native, gave me a perfect fall combo to take to the bridges.  The coffee was good, a medium roast, and the scone was soft, lightly spiced, and had just the right amount of icing.  The Cellar offered meals but dining inside was risky and we were pressed for time.

After two covered bridges, they started to look the same to me.  Sure they were architecturally beautiful and historically fascinating, but I can only remember so many lumber types and drive so many dusty roads.  One bridge had been fully moved to save it and some others had been taken by time.  People were encouraged to write on the wood on the inside of some of the bridges but it was disheartening to see “Obama waz here” and “Iowa Sucks” slapped onto the outside of the painted structures.  Lastly, the one bridge that was safe for cars to drive across, our cargo van was too tall to fit.  

Around the start of sunset, we drove on a long steel bridge, at the border of the state, over the Mississippi River and into Wisconsin.  The scenery changed immediately.  Corn turned into cedar and pine trees oozing in autumn colors.  Sprawling green farm properties with Biden flags lined the backroads we drove to our destination.  Over the next few days I saw the capital city, Madison, the kitschy Wisconsin Dells, the charming little town where my friend’s family lives, and all over Milwaukee before I boarded a flight back to the west.  In six days I got to see a decent amount of the United States that I otherwise would not have any reason to see.  It was a wonderful adventure with my friend and I enjoyed the time I spent with his family (and their cats), and all I had to do was bring in a couple of boxes, a lamp, an old desk, more boxes, some luggage, no wait, that was my luggage, a coffee maker, oh look, more boxes, picture frames, a toolbox, hey, isn’t that my old vacuum?..