Special: The Shoe Saga

As some of my readers became aware a while back, it was not only myself and my associate Dan who were making this trip across America. We were accompanied by another pair, namely, a pair of dress shoes owned by another associate, Matt. Matt was about to get married, and before their knot was tied, so to speak, his shoes wanted to spend some time roaming the vast country, sowing their wild oats as it were. They took these photos, which were then shown at the wedding to Matt, who until that point had no idea where they had gone.

In New York, they got to climb the Brooklyn Bridge:



And look out at the view of the city over the East River:



They made friends with some of the other diverse shoes in the city, such as these Italians:



And these lovely shoes of the female persuasion:



In Ithaca, they got to pal around with Ezra Cornell's shoes:



And moon the Cornell admissions office:



Here they are at the top of Niagara Falls, considering going down in a shoebox. (They ultimately chickened out.)



At the Hockey Hall of Fame in Toronto, they got to see what it's like to hang out in a realistic locker room:



Got to see Pat LaFontaine of their favorite team, the NY Islanders:



And touched the Stanley Cup:



Unfortunately, by the time they got to the Shoe Museum in Toronto it was closed:



But they did get to moon the admissions office at the University of Toronto:



At the Notre Dame campus, they admired Touchdown Jesus through the reflecting pool:



The admissions office there is fairly posh, but they did a quick moon and then got out of there:



In Chicago there were lots more friends to be made:



There were shoes from all throughout history and the world at the Field Museum:







And some feet that would have been hard to make shoes for:



Bowling in Chicago was fun, there were lots of shoes to meet, but they weren't allowed on the lane:



Back in middle America, they got to learn a little bit about where they came from:





But there was some eye candy there as well:





In the West they got to see the sights:



But the Wild West did have some appealing styles as well:



Yellowstone Park allowed them to get back to nature a little:



Though the wait for Old Faithful to erupt was a little annoying:



Here they were able to straddle the Continental Divide:



In Salt Lake City, they were impressed by the Mormon Tabernacle:



And even made friends with some nice young Mormons:



In Reno there were also impressive things to see, and do:



And they made some different kinds of friends:



By the time they got to California they were pretty hungry, and of course had to make a stop at the In-N-Out:



And they completed their journey by looking out over the Pacific Ocean:



So having satisfied their desire to roam free for a while, it was time to pack up and head home:



They got themselves cleaned up:



And joined their loving partners, with whom they would stay from then on:



The union of soles.

Day 20: The End?

I made it to sleep around midnight and woke up around 5:30am. Seems like a good amount of sleep, unfortunately I was crossing three time zones while it was happening. The plane landed about a half hour later. I was back in the homeland. After a slight wait to get my bag, I went outside and awaited my chariot.



By the time I got back to my apartment, it was about 7:30am. It looked pretty much the same as it had when I left.



It was basically about the time I would normally get up, shower, and go into work. So that's what I did. I did the usual thing and took the usual way in. Around the corner from my office there was a little more of a sideshow going on than usual, as a man had apparently started living on that corner. His possessions (and I use that term loosely) were strewn throughout an oddly painted car, a storage bin, the sidewalk, and the front yard adjacent to the sidewalk. Police were everywhere and the man was causing quite a ruckus.



So there I was home again, and home I am still, and what has changed? I've seen America, or much of it, and filled in some of the missing parts with Canada, and am I any different? Have I grown at all? I'm not talking about the Minnesota State Fair food here, I mean intellectual and spiritual growth. Has America made any impact on me? Have I made any impact on America? As a planner, I tend to think that significant change only occurs over time, with the seeds planted early and nurtured steadily over time. I don't feel different now, but perhaps over time the experience gained from this trip will help me blossom into a more complete person. Or at least I'll know where to park if I go to any of these places again.

While I'm at it, I should thank the many people who helped the trip along:

• Dan, of course, whom this trip was really for in the first place and to whom I wish all the best in his new life as a woman (just kidding -- I meant to say grad school)
• Amy, Sarah and Caitlin, and Gerda (I apologize for some potential bad spelling there) for lodging accommodations and so much more
• Carol and Lloyd for the finest in California hospitality
• Jenna for showing us how to party Chicago-style
• Dick and his wife, whose name I have sadly forgotten, for the whirlwind tour of Minneapolis and breakfast
  
• Rich for the Mexican food in Utah
• Ron for the ride to In-N-Out
  
• Debbie for use of her atlas and advice
• Matt for hanging onto my apartment keys in case of an unforseen emergency that thankfully didn't happen
• The waiters, hotel clerks, park rangers, blackjack dealers, and Mormons that made our stops enjoyable
• The prehistoric creatures that provided us with fuel for the trip as well as some of the entertainment
• My Mom and Dad for reading up on me and generally knowing where I am, as well as for raising me and keeping me more or less in line, even to this day
• All the other people who commented on the blog and let me know that people were actually reading
• All the people who read the blog but didn't comment and so I don't know who you are
• And all the people who didn't read, because I'm sure you were doing more productive things with the time you could have spent reading, anyway.

And now to the question you're all asking: What happens to Jeff's America next? Well I don't plan on doing anything new at the moment. However, there is a lot more America out there that I haven't seen, and there is some possibility that I will go out there to see it. So at some point, you may see further reports from me out in the field, whenever and wherever I happen to be there.

'Till then -- Jeff.

Day 19: Monterey Bay, and the Friendly Skies

In my haste, I forgot to note the best part of our Salinas day. When we got back to my associate's home, Mr. and Mrs. Associate prepared for us a delicious home-cooked feast of barbecued chicken and fresh vegetables, mostly from their own garden. After the stuff we had been eating on our trip, fresh vegetables were like ambrosia.

Anyway, after a hearty California meal and a good night's sleep, we left for yet one more adventure. First we surveyed some of the bugs we picked up on the grill across 15 states:



Doesn't look that gross? OK, take a closer look:



We then took a little time to tally up what we spent on the trip so that it would be spent evenly. (It was more difficult than it looks, because we had to convert several charges from Canadian.)



Overall, we spent about $1100 in lodging fees, about $300 and change in gas, and about $500 and change in food and other incidentals that we paid for as on (though we probably paid a little more than that individually). There were no gambling losses, which helped. So overall, we spent just over $2000 or $1000 for each of us on the trip. We also drive a little over 4000 miles. Not too shabby.

Before we started out we got a little old fashioned religion. Felt good.



Then we rode out to have lunch overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Also, felt good. Here you can also see the Bixby Bridge, which connects Big Sur to the peninsula. We didn't cross it, but I felt satisfied nonetheless.



Next stop was Carmel, where we visited the historic Mission, which was very big and interesting.



Here's the famous courtyard:



In the courtyard is a statue of Father Junipero Serra, who founded this long with many other missions in colonial California.



There are also some saintly looking people guarding the entrance to the courtyard, along with some other not-so-saintly looking types.



This sign commemorates Harry Downie, a local man who dedicated 50 years to rebuilding the basilica in the 20th century. He is buried in the cemetery with his wife.



There's a small historical exhibit in a part of the building. This cart looks like it would be particularly hard to pull.



This recreation of a residential room made me homesick for my apartment:



Apparently there is at least one Gobernador buried in the crypt. Will it see another?



We cruised through Carmel a bit afterwards to get a look at the usual sights, like the beach and Clint Eastwood's house. We continued on and it seamlessly transitioned into Monterey, and this for some reason was the best photo I got.



Unfortunately, all good days come to an end, and my final destination on the peninsula was this quaint little airport.



That was where my associate and I parted ways. Surely we'll work together again, someday.

After several minutes waiting at the ticketing counter and about 10 seconds going through security, I sat and waited for my ride to pick me up.



The nice thing about small planes is that they fly low, and on a nice, day, I was able to get a great view of most of the Bear Republic. First I got a nice look at Pebble Beach:



Then some of the California mountains:



Until I finally emerged over some of the lowlands of southern California:



I got a fantastic view of Los Angeles at night, unfortunately by that point the captain had told us to turn off all electronic devices. I figure I might have been able to snap one and get away with it, but I didn't think it was work risking detention at LAX security. So that image I get to keep for myself. Sorry.

As I was making my connection in LAX (a lengthy process for anyone who's tried it), I figured it made sense not to take any photos so as not to look too suspicious. However, as I was following the signs from Terminal 5, where the shuttle bus let us off, to Terminal 6, from which my next flight was leaving, I found myself all alone in a place that looked like this:



And it was probably the most frightening experience I've had in an airport. But just to let you know, if you find yourself in a situation like this, don't worry -- you will end up at your gate, not in some mad scientist's lab.

I still had some time before my flight, which I spent at the hotel bar. I was hoping I could use the internets, but they were controlled by T-Mobile and required signing up with some screwy subscription. So I just worked on organizing photos. For those of you who were curious, here's what it looks like when I organize my photos:



I had the tall beer as well, because I was hoping it would help make me tired enough to sleep on the plane. I was wrong, and it actually seemed to make me even more awake. On the flight, I was surprised to find they were showing Fantastic 4: Rise of the Silver Surfer. I thought that watching a little of that might help me sleep. I was right.

So that was the end of that day, and I guess the end of my trip, and pretty much the end of this blog.

Or is it?

(Hint: No, I actually have a little more I was going to show. Tune in later for the conclusion.)