The Road Trip To the East.

On the road again
Just can't wait to get on the road again
The life I love is making music with my friends

And I can't wait to get on the road again
On the road again

Goin' places that I've never been
Seein' things that I may never see again

~Willie Nelson (But not the ref)

First off, if you did not know, Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy have split. Kermit had informed me a while ago that this could be in the works. There was a hint here, but no one saw it. More on Kermit perhaps to come at a later date. My people are talking with his people (or should that be frogs?), however that is all I can say.

Two years ago I went on road trip half way across the country. By "the country" I mean the "United States of America." There are of course some countries that one could traverse in a matter of hours. For example, I found a train that can take me from 춘천 (Chun-chǒn)  to 부산 (Pusan) in just over five hours. (Does someone want to come and ride the route with me next year?--and notice my use of McCune–Reischauer romanization. I much prefer M-R, although Korea no longer uses it officially.) So when I say "road trip," I literally mean "road trip"-- the type of trip that takes days and is done on the road, not on the rails.

Now understandably, some readers will be bored by a travelogue. This did get sort of long. However some of my advisors for the blog have indicated that I "came across as overly bitter and crazy" in my prior posts, "almost to the point of necessitating psychiatric evaluation." I openly admit that I am completely and entirely bitter. And admission is the the first step to recovery. Moreover, let's face it, it can feel good to kick and scream. But nevertheless, since there are now entire branches of my life that no longer want to have contact with me, I am going to give a mundane travelogue--even if for no other reason than to make a pretense of being a wonderful person who only writes about frolicking and happiness. 

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Travelogue.

The setting is as follows: Two years ago I got in the car with two married people. They were married to each other in fact. In order to protect their identity, I will call the man Tung and the woman Tass. Those of you who get chemistry will know the reasons for these names. Since they now live far away, I feel pretty safe in talking about them. Yet I still feel like somehow I am taking my life in my hands......Let's hope they are not overly offended. This is Tung's "second" time being metioned on the blog by the way.

To up the ante here, let me add that Tung and Tass had only be married a month when I got into the car with them. (At the end of the journey they had been married for slightly longer). Now considering I was in confined quarters for extended periods with two newly married people, it was not horrible. Nothing catastrophic came of the arrangements. Although, I did notice that the back massages for the driver were put on hold while I was piloting the vehicle. Maybe you have to pay extra for that. That's what happens when you ride economy class I guess.

Before I get going in earnest here, let me also add that I am omitting a lot of commentary on some of the Church History sites we visited. I can only talk about so much, and this would make the post five times longer (because honestly I could tell you a lot about most of these places). 

Day 1.

The first night of the journey, we stayed in Wyoming. There are two parts of Wyoming: the Yellowstone part and the "So this is why less than 600,000 people desire to live here" part. We were in the latter. We pulled into the campground around 6 pm that evening and quickly noticed that we were in fact the only people there in tents. The rest of the folks there were RV drivers, which is something pale thighed people do when they retire and desire to tour the country in short pants. 

There also was a guy there in a black Chevy van. He had the camping slot next to us, which made Tung very nervous. (We were pretty sure the Man in Black has some "special" herbs he cooked his dinner with). But nevertheless we unloaded our gear and put up the tents. They had a tent and I had a tent. We did not share. After setting up my tent I looked over and saw the tiniest tent I had ever seen. At first I actually thought Tung and Tass had mistakenly packed a handkerchief instead of a tent. Somehow they fit both themselves and their duffel bag inside this tent. I guess it was a good thing they had been married only one month prior. Throughout the trip I had to remember the old adage "If the tent's a rockin' don't go knockin'." (To clarify however, I never did see the tent rock). 

Day 2.
We woke up the next morning and took off from Wyoming. I was at the wheel. We had this little rotation we used for driving. The order was Me, Tass, Tung. So I was first. I drove for about 3 hours until we were about half way across Nebraska. There are two parts of Nebraska: The part on the east and the part on the west. I drove the length of the latter. Tass then took the wheel (and the driver's seat). She drove the other half of Nebraska, which was pretty much like the first. Our pace picked up at this point, since Tass was a faster driver than I am. She's from Texas you see.

After crossing the rest of Nebraska we stopped at a place called "Winter Quarters." This is right on the border between Nebraska and Iowa. After I taught one of the sister missionaries (Sister Muhlsteed) there about Isaac Galland and the purchase of the City of Nauvoo, Tung took the wheel and we were off. The night ended at a campground near Des Moines, IA in a place called Lewis A. Jester State Park.

Day 3. 
We woke up at about 5:30 a.m. this day. We were in the Central Time Zone, so I think that was actually 6:30 a.m. We each took a shower at the campground and then I took the wheel and we were off. We were headed to see a wedding between the Beast and his bride. (Hence the shower). Tung hand fed me a few PopTarts while we were driving. We reached a point where we had to cross the Mississippi River into Illinois. There is a big toll bridge to cross the river and it is manned by a small Asian man who seemingly was mute. We paid our $2 and crossed the bridge. One of the first people we saw as we entered the city was the man of the hour: The Beast. He was scrambling around the motel parking lot like a skittish rooster since he had just locked his keys in the family van. This was T-minus two hours until his wedding mind you. However, we did not know about the keys being locked up until later, so we just drove on by.

The wedding happened. The Prince came. Blah, Blah, Blah.

After the wedding we went to eat at a buffet that had breaded jumbo shrimp. I had the honor of sitting next to The Beast. He had the honor of sitting next to his wife. Even at that point I think she was beginning to worry about how many crazy friends her husband had. This was solidified after four of us gave a speech.

Breaded Shrimp

After eating all we could at the buffet, we left. I think we probably gave our salutations to The Beast, but honestly by that point he had lost his grip on reality and had begun pouring sugar packets into everyone's lemonade, so no guarantees there.

We spent the rest of the day looking around town and going to a musical performance. We then went to the campground and slept without incident. (No tents were rocking. At least I think).

Day 4.
I woke up this day and felt in a bad state of affairs. The wedding was over and now we had to drive back home. Suddenly I realized that I was sort of tired--living on the road in a tent can take its toll. And I was not getting the rejuvenating back massages like the other two participants in the journey. But we had to get back home and I was first in the driving rotation, so we took off with me at the wheel. (We actually first did more things in the town where we had camped, but I am leaving that all out). Honestly, the drive from Illinois to Omaha, NE is rather hazy in my memory. (Maybe The Beast put more than saccharin packets in that lemonade....). But what is there to see in Iowa anyway? There are two parts of Iowa: the part with corn and the part with corn AND windmills. I drove the first part, which is probably why I do not remember it.  If I had been driving when there was corn AND windmills, I would have remembered.

I will pick the story up in Omaha. This is where, shall we say, it all went to heck. We had booked a campsite in a place called "The River West." I had wanted to stay in the KOA, but SOMEONE wanted to go to "The River West" since it had a shower. "The River West" is over the river and through the woods outside of Omaha. We showed up and checked into our slot. By slot I mean "6 foot by 6 foot patch of land next to tents full of inebriated people." We then drove back to Omaha to go to the Winter Quarters Temple. (Side note, the man at the desk looked a lot like Greg Wrubell).

To make a long story short, we had major reservations now about our reservations at "The River West." After looking into camping in a city park, we grudgingly made our way to "The River West." We went to again survey our plot of turf and assess the danger. Local time was 11:23 p.m. Brewskies were plentiful and I am pretty sure the Man in Black from Wyoming was there cooking with his herbs. He had even brought enough for everyone else it seemed. Mind you, we are doing all of this land surveying in dress clothes. Needless to say, not everyone was there in a shirt and tie.

A snap shot of an adjacent camper.

Tung handled the locals that approached us. He had a skill in doing that. He served a mission in the hood you see.

Seeing that the accommodations were less than regal, we pitched our tents in a big field that was next to "The River West." Local time was 12:17 a.m. At about 1 a.m., a local camper alerted the manager that someone was not in their designated spot. Mr. Manager exited his trailer, popped open a beverage to hold him over while he came down and talked to us, then shook Tung and Tass's tent. (He forgot the adage). Mr. Manager told us to move closer to the trees because otherwise "the PO-leez gonna bust [him] good." I think we ended up camping in the parking lot, which was also a field.

Day 5.
We got up at about 6 a.m. and fled "The River West." It was a Sunday, so we changed into dress clothes to visit a local church. Tung and Tass changed in a gas station restroom (a "Loaf-n-Jug"). I changed behind a dumpster in back of a bank. Nothing wrong with that.

After going to church and the Kanesville Tabernacle, we got on the road back to Wyoming. I think we went through the driving rotation twice. "The River West" had taken a large toll on our ability to stay awake and even massages proved powerless. Tass drove through the worst rain storm I had ever seen. I am pretty sure we were the only car that did not pull over. She's from Texas you see. Her work in that rain storm cemented her legacy in my mind. 

Day 6.
This was the final day of the journey. We drove home without incident. Really not much to say here.

Conclusion.
Maybe someday I will go on another road trip. I sure as heck am staying in a hotel if I ever go to Omaha. I have actually considered going on an international journey to a specific country next summer, but going back alone after seven years would be weird. And I am pretty sure there is some rule that says I am not supposed to return "before getting married" because it is "bad for the economy."

YouTube is suggesting Patsy Cline videos now, so I better just end this.
Thanks to Tung and Tass for not suing me for defamation.