Journey to the West: Days 2/3

Day 2 consisted of me lounging around Hotel de Raeyeve with Feta and meeting up with friends for shopping and supper.

Day 3 started much too earlier as I attempted to get out of St Paul at 7am. Ouch. All I have to say. I somehow made it to Faribault before almost passing out from lack of caffeine. 

As I was driving through Iowa, I couldn’t help but be reminded of the pollution of Beijing. Ah, the rising of the smogsun. 

Interesting observations in Iowa: 

Mile 568 of my journey: Silos and Smokestacks National Heritage Area. ?? 

Mile 589 of my journey: Seen on a sign: “Modern rest area 39mi. Rest area next right. Parking only.” To which I ask, if I take a “rest,” shall we say, at the non-modern rest area, am I in danger of being arrested for indecent exposure or public urination? I mean, I’m taking my “rest” at the rest area, right? 

Mile 676 of my journey: South Skunk River. Thank you God for not letting my car die at that moment. 

And then there was Missouri. Where I called up Laura and demanded that she find me a Chick-Fil-A somewhere between Missouri and Texas and if it was in Kansas City, I would be overjoyed. “Next exit.” Hallelujah!!! Seriously, Wisconsin, why don’t you have this restaurant? Their spicy chicken sandwiches with the yummy Chick-Fil-A sauce and homemade lemonade is life-changing. 

Mile 912 of my journey: “My thighs are cold. Splendid.” Granted, I had finally taken off my coat. Apparently, my thighs weren’t ready for their unveiling. 

I might have fallen slightly in love with the Flint Hills in Kansas. Cattle Country baby. ….I read too much Pioneer Woman…. I was beyond tempted to pull over, find myself a cowboy and never leave Kansas again. Then I remembered that I’m sorta allergic to horses, barns, cows, pigs, hay, grass, and well, hard-labor. I kept going. 

I greatly enjoyed the numbered bridges. I don’t know why. You look for anything to be entertaining as you enter hour number….309572897234 of your trip. 

Mile 1087 of my journey found me dancing my way through Wichita….maybe that’s why I missed it. Does an actual city exit there?

At mile 1180 of my journey, I stared out my window trying to figure out just what I was looking at. Was that car driving on the grass because they exited too early? Or where they trying to get onto the highway without using an on-ramp? Or did they just pull over too far? How do these things happen? 

Sunsets in Oklahoma are gorgeous. Abso-freaking-lutely gorgeous. 

Mile 1238 of my journey: Seen on a sign while driving out of Oklahoma City: “3min to end ofwz” Um…what? What is wz and why is it ending? And am I going that way? Come on Oklahoma! What is this!?!?!?

Also around this time I discovered that 1) I do not talk like I’m from “around these parts” and 2) My car definitely did not look like it was from “around these parts.” That whole wintery nasty that was splayed all over my car kinda made me stick out a bit. 

Finally! Finally! (Yes, that is so the Welcome to Texas sign. I can only do so much while driving and photographing. At least I think it’s the green one…maybe it was the white one…I can’t remember.)

WHAT?! 65! Come on, Texas, you’re killing me! My rear is in PAIN. Texas does this annoying little thing where the speed limit is 70 (in places) in the day, but 65 at night. Un. Happy. I knew this, but I had forgotten about it - or repressed those memories. I also knew from Marta’s complaining about Texas drivers, that speeding wasn’t the best decision. So, I made sure someone was going faster than me and scooched around in my seat. A lot. 

I arrived at Marta’s apt, unloaded my crap, and flopped down on the floor on my stomach because I couldn’t sit. Ever again.